Dead Hunger III: The Chatsworth Chronicles (31 page)

Flex stood back, smiling.  He loved it when people took initiative. 

“Hold out your leg,” said Dave.

I did.  He turned the nozzle to spray, and began wetting my shoes and pants below the knees with the liquid.
  He sprayed all the way up to my thighs, and I could feel the cold wetness through my jeans.

“There,” he said.  “If nothing else, their feet will dissolve, and you’ll still be able to make it to the car.  If they try to bite, the minute their mouths squeeze the denim, their little heads are muck.”

“Dude, I really appreciate the blow-by-blow, but I gotta keep from over
thinking this shit.  I’m better if I just go.”

“Me, too,” said Gem. 

“Charlie,” said Lisa.

I turned toward her face, so damned worried.  “Yeah?”

“Go fast.”

The chirp! chirp! of the car unlocking sounded as Gem hit the remote.  She handed me the keys.  “Run, bitch, run!”

“One more word, and we’ll trade pants and you can go,” I said, smiling, but not really feeling
jovial.  All I knew is each step toward that car brought me closer to Hemp.

“Touché,” said Gem.  “Shutting the fuck up now.”

Flex turned the deadbolt and looked at me.  “Ready?”

“No, but open it anyway.”

“On three,” he said, and counted off.

I lowered the spray bottle toward where the opening would be.  The rats scurried around outside, their movements those of creatures that were single-minded and unafraid.

The door opened, and I sprayed as fast as my fingers would pump the lever.  The rats directly in front of the doors collapsed into goo
p
as I leapt as far over the remaining rodents as I could.

My feet landed on their furry bodies and I struggled to stay upright; it was though I were running on top of dozens of small stuffed animals, rolling this way and that.  I thrust my legs outward and pushed off, crushing them beneath me.  I felt some gaining purchase on my pants and attempting to climb up my body, but none made it past my knees before falling away.

I pushed two more, three more huge steps.  I was five feet from the car now.  I began kicking outward, trying to clear a path as I felt them behind me, thousands of them, converging on me, the one aroma they craved, the food they needed so desperately.

Two feet, and I dropped my hand and sprayed all around my legs, the mist flattening them as the juice got in their eyes and ears.  I’d left the crossbow with the others; it would do me no good here.  I reached for the door handle and pulled it, dove inside and slammed the door, catching at least four or five of the ratty-come-latelys in the steel jaws, crushing their disgusting little heads, shattering their razor sharp teeth within their hungry, ever-seeking mouths.

Two had made it in, and attached themselves to my pant
legs, but it was perhaps the worst decision they could’ve made.  They sizzled into slimy piles of fur and melted bone, and it was then that I realized they stunk like shit.  I wanted to roll down the window and throw them out, but these bastards were
fluid and fast, and I didn’t know if any were on top of the car waiting to drop down on me – the part of me not protected by urushiol.

I looked at the building now, and saw everyone jumping in the air, cheering.  I smiled at them, realizing for the very first moment that surviving that twenty-five foot run was an amazing accomplishment.

I turned to look in the back seat, and leaned over to grab the spare walkie-talkie.  I held it up so they could see it, and saw Flex fumbling for his radio clipped to his belt. 

“Guys,” I said.  “I know you think that was a big deal, but let me tell you something.”

“What’s that, Charlie,” said Flex, a huge smile on his face.

“I’m gonna make that shit look like a walk in the park compared to how I’ll close the last twenty-five feet between me and my man.”

“When we get to him,” said Flex.  “I’m sure you will, Charlie.”

I nodded.  Flex had said when, not if.  That was because we were a group that didn’t deal in ifs.  We also didn’t deal in what
-
ifs.  We dealt in what is.  We had since we’d met, and we always would.

I pushed the talk button again.  “I’ve got the other bottles of z-juice in here.  I’ll pull up close.  When I roll down the window, be ready to push the door open.  I’ll have two in the air to you.”

“Got it,” said Flex.

I put the car in gear and spun it around in a wide arc, then angled up over the curb.  I knocked the smoker’s ashtray over and it went rolling sideways, inadvertently crushing several rats beneath it.  These things didn’t avoid large things very well.  Fucked up reflexes, I assumed.

I pulled the car
up so the passenger side was
parallel to the glass, the door to the terminal centered with
the center of the car.

“Ready?” I said into the radio. “I’m going to push both doors open as fast as I can, and you’d better be ready to receive.”

I saw Gem and Dave nod, and Flex clicked on and said, “Yep.  Go.”  He clipped the radio back on his belt, and I said a quick, rare prayer. 

I nodded at them and threw the rear door open and sprayed fast at the rats just outside the car.  I looked up and saw the door open and tossed that bottle to Flex, who deftly caught it and began spraying all around their feet.

I pushed the front door open and did the same thing.  I looked up, caught Lisa’s eye, and threw it right to her.  Her hand wrapped around it and she came down spraying.

I jumped back over to the driver’s seat and sprayed with all I had as the four charged toward the car.

They had only two steps to go, unlike my trip across the sea of rats.  I saw four zombies making their way along the sidewalk, and quickly pushed the B button on the GPS screen, lined them up, and blasted them with the AK-47.  All four went down in a spray of crimson and black.  The rats ignored them.

The ones that weren’t under them, that is.

Everyone was in, but some had brought friends.

“Fuck!” shouted Dave.  “Fucker bit me!”

I floored it.  “Spray the bite now, Dave.  Flex, are there any more?”

Flex was spraying like mad all over the floorboards, as was Lisa.  I tossed the bottle to Gem and she did the same as I powered the car out of the lot and back onto the main road out of the small airport.

Flex was in the back seat, and Gem had jumped in the front with me.  As I went to turn out, two more zombies staggered in front of the car, and I hit them head on.  One of them was almost entirely without skin, and the bones of his wrist were completely exposed, the dead tendons running between them in black strips.

One of them crumpled beneath the tires of the Crown Vic, and the other bounced onto the hood, for one brief moment its face directly in front of mine, just before its skull shattered against the ballistic glass and smeared my windshield almost beyond vision.  I used the mister and put the wipers on, bring the car up to sixty mile per hour.

“Diggers,”
said Gem, almost hyperventilating.
  “Fucking diggers.”

“Get your goddamned leg up here now, Dave!” said Flex, reaching into his pocket.

Dave didn’t argue.  I readjusted the mirror so I could glance back and see what was going on now and then.  I had only another mile back to the
governor’s mansion
.

“Get the bottle ready, Lisa,” said Flex, cutting up Dave’s pant leg with his pocket knife.  He pulled it away and revealed the small punctures.

“Shit!  They did get me,” said Dave, squeezing his eyes closed.  “Damn it!”

“Don’t worry, buddy.  But you’re gonna want to bite into that shirt of yours, and I mean now.”

Dave didn’t hesitate.  He pulled his shirt up, wadded it, and put it in his mouth.  Flex cut into him, slicing north to south like he was peeling a cucumber.  A quarter inch slice of Dave’s skin and the meat beneath it peeled away as Dave struggled against the blade, his eyes squeezed tight.

Flex took the pant leg and wiped at the blood.  He ran his finger over where he’d cut. 

“I don’t see the puncture anymore,” he said.  “It must not have gotten too far in, Dave.  Hang tight.  Lisa, spray the shit out of it and don’t stop until we get to the statehouse.  Gem, radio Kev.  Tell him we need some of the pure urushiol oil in a jar.  Tell him to have it ready when we pull up.”

“Cut more if you have to, Flex,” said Dave.  “It’s a small sacrifice to stay human, brother.”

Lisa continued to spray it with the mist.  She turned the nozzle to stream, and hit directly on the slice that Flex had taken.

I made turn into the compound, and the vehicles blocking the entry rolled back early enough that I didn’t even have to brake.  I slid the Ford up to the steps and threw it in park.

“Let’s get inside,” said Gem.  She pushed the button on her radio.  “We’re here, Kev.  Meet us at the door.”

“10-4,” said Reeves.  “I’m here already.”

Dave didn’t need help.  We all ran together, and once inside, Dave dropped onto his back and allowed another slice to be taken, and the pure urushiol oil to be administered directly to the cut.

When we’d done all we could, everybody collapsed on the floor, and looked at one another.

A few minutes later, Trina and Taylor came in.  Trina ran right over to Gem and threw her arms around her.

“Mommy, you’re back!”

“I’m back, baby.  Yes, I am.  How’s my girl?”

She looked at Gem, her eyes sad.  “I’m fine. 
Tay
is still sad
, though
.”

I went to
Taylor
and sat beside her, then pulled her down onto my lap. 
When she turned her face to mine, I put my forehead against hers.

“I’m hurting, too,
Tay
.  I really am.  And I know you are.  But I’m going to promise you something, and it’s something your mommy would want me to promise you.”

She pulled away and met my eyes again.  “I don’t want to forget my mommy, Charlie?  I loved her so much, but I feel like she’s already going away.  I feel like I’m forgetting what she looks like!”

I pulled her to me, and held her tight. 

I whispered:  “We’re going to be happy again, just like your mommy would have wanted.  And we’re going to think of her when we need her strength, and when we do, she’ll always be there to give it.   Not only that, I predict that when you grow in to a woman, you’re going to look exactly like your mother, so that when you look in a mirror, you’re going to see her in the reflection.  And every time that happens, you’re going to remember her.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Her tears began to pour from her green eyes, and she said, “I love you, Charlie.”

I held her against me.  My mind went to the face I never wanted to forget.

My Hemp.  I had to find him, and I would not wait forever to make that happen.

Chapter 12

“So, Professor Chatsworth,” said Carville, standing outside my cell, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.  “Are we ready to begin our research?”

He wore a Hugh Hefner style robe and his face held a pleasant expression.  It’s funny, now that I look back on it; I was always amused by this man and his way of dealing with the press, particularly when they were critical of him.  I even liked him.  I suppose it wasn’t uncommon to be fond of someone who said what they meant and who didn’t really care what the consequences would be.

So far, there had been none.  He won most arguments, and put the critics in their places with his success.

I stood there in my comfortable, white shoes, my scrubs and lab coat, and I’d have to admit, I did look ready for research.  What I really wanted was to escape this place and get back to the people who really needed me.

“There is no cure,” I said.  “I can piddle about in the lab all day, and perform busy work, but I can tell you that the simple fact is, your daughter and your brother are dead, and there will be no bring
ing
them back to life.”

Carville stared at me through the acrylic barrier, and sipped his coffee.  He was a reasonable man who I knew appreciated straight talk.  He took a deep breath and let it out.

“Mr. Chatsworth, you know me, right?”

“I know of you.  I know the persona you’ve put out to the world, but that doesn’t mean I know you.”

“Point taken,” he said, a minuscule smile on his lips.  “Well, here’s what you’ve probably gathered from what I’ve put out there.  I’m smart.  I’m fair.  Most people like and respect me, even if they’re a bit jealous of my success.  Would you agree so far?”

“Perhaps,” I said, “but what’s your point?”

“I’m also a ruthless businessman.  I don’t pull punches.  I negotiate, but I’m not afraid to walk away from a deal or do whatever it takes to make a deal
I’m very serious about
happen.”