The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (101 page)

Chris had been fifteen years old, struggling from the get-go.  He stayed in his room, and nobody could make him join in.  Whenever he made an appearance, his eyes were swollen, and he would eat just enough to satisfy the rest of his adopted family.

But he never saw them that way.  At least that was Jimmy’s take on it.  He always looked haunted.  By the time Jimmy thought to check the house for drugs left behind by the family that used to live there, it was too late. 

Chris had found them and one night less than a month ago, he had taken an entire bottle of Oxycodone. 

He wasn’t taking any chances that he would live, and he was successful in ending his life.

The one where you breathe, that is.  He did not stay down, however, and Jimmy’s first knowledge of his new existence was when he heard Nikki scream from the next room. 

Chris, in his new, breathless, hungry state, barreled into her room and fell upon her in the moon-filtered darkness.

Her scream was immediate, and Jimmy bolted to his feet, grabbed the baseball bat that was always at his bedside, and nearly kicked open Nikki’s door.  He didn’t have to be told what to do.

He slammed the bat into Chris’s head with all he had, and the boy-turned-zombie toppled off of Nikki and to the floor.

Jimmy stood over his former housemate and had pounded and pounded him until a sobbing Nikki grabbed his arms, making him stop.

It was over. 

Upon hearing about it, Hemp was extremely concerned about Chris’ reanimation.  Prior to that, Hemp had been fairly certain that if you had the immunity while living, you would not reanimate upon your death.

That did not turn out to be true.  For two days, Hemp had been non-communicative and immersed in the problem, trying to find a solution.

Hemp finally reached the preliminary conclusion that If someone had an immunity to urushiol and died prior to the gas coming from the earth, they never breathed it into their lungs, and therefore would not reanimate.

But if they spent time alive, inhaling it, essentially saturating their brain stem and pituitary gland with it, when they died, they would turn just as sure as if they never had the immunity.

Flex hoped there would be plenty of opportunity to determine if that was true.  Others would die, after all, and not all from zombie or rat attack. 

But Nikki was okay.  It was a relief, because Flex knew she was an important part of this team of kids.

Flex was also a bit surprised that Nikki’s terrifying experience hadn’t sent her into a state of permanent fear, but she seemed to have weathered it and become even stronger.

“Take these,” said Hemp.  “I’ll get you more.  Have you got enough food for now?  It may be a while before you can go out again.”

“Food, water.  We have enough for a week or so.”

“Okay,” said Gem.  “Take care of one another.  That’s how we’ve made it this far.  It works.”

They nodded.  It was as if they didn’t want the adults to leave.

“I’ve got a zombie in my garage that needs my attention,” said Hemp.

“Don’t ask,” said Dave, smiling at the kids.

“Wasn’t going to.  I know Hemp well enough now,” said Jimmy.  “No word from upstairs, so you’re good to go.  Be careful on the way home.”

“Back atcha,” said Charlie. 

They roused Trina from her slumber and left the group of young adults and adolescents behind, but they never left their minds.

There was hope for the future of the world with kids like them leading the way.

*****

“Radio Kev,” said Flex.  “We need to find out what they’re dealing with.”

“Ask about Lisa and Serena,” said Dave.  “This sucks.”

Charlie got on the radio.  “This is Charlie.  Kev, you read?”

Static.  Then: “We’re here,” Charlie.  “Your people safe?” 

It was Kevin Reeves.

“Yeah,” said Charlie.  “We were at the youth hostel.  Jimmy and company are safe for now.”

“Good.  I thought about them out there, but there was nothing we could really do.  Got our hands full here.”

“We cleared out our street and their street,” said Charlie, “but I’m guessing those groups got separated?  What kind of numbers are we talking about?”

“Can’t estimate,” said Kev.  “We’re under siege.  I don’t know where they all came from or how long they’ve been heading this way, but our roadblocks are all down.  Abandoned.”

“I’m not shocked,” said Charlie.  “Okay, We’re dropping some of us at the house.  Flex and Dave will find you.  Keep your radio on.”

“Always,” said Kev.    “And Charlie?”

“Yeah, Kev.”

“Let everyone know we lost Dan Cox.”

“They just heard you.  How?”

“We believe his WAT-5 ran out.  Ratz got to him.  He took the wafer this morning, and he even had more with him.  Time must have gotten away from him.”

Charlie looked at Gem, then Flex.  “Shit.”

“Yeah,” said Kev.  “He was a good guy.  Gave everything, right to the end.”

“I know,” said Charlie.  “I don’t even know what to say.”

“I think your first reaction was similar to all of ours.  We’ll fight on for him and everyone else.”

“Yep,” said Charlie.  “We sure as hell will.  Flex and Dave will radio when they’re on the way.  How’s your WAT-5 holding up?”

“We’ve got plenty.  Been producing it 24/7.”

“Awesome,” said Charlie.  “Talk to you later, Kev.  Be careful.” 

They got to the house and Dave and Flex carried the sleeping girls inside, putting them right to bed.  It had been an exhausting day.

When the men came back down, Flex’s face was distraught.

“I’m gonna miss Dan.  I liked him a lot,” said Flex.

“Common sense personified,” said Dave.  “Good guy.”

“I’m not feeling so well,” said Gem.  “I need to get horizontal.”

“It’s been a rough morning, babe,” said Flex.  “Go down for a few hours.  We’ll buzz you with updates if we’re in range.”

“Be fucking careful,” said Gem, her eyes boring into Flex’s.  “Both of you.  And take another WAT-5 before you go.”

With regard to the immediate effects of the drug, they had discovered some good news shortly after their return from Vermont.  The wafers eaten when already under the influence of WAT-5 did not cause you to go to sleep.  However, let the effects of the drug wear off for even a couple of minutes, and you were out like a light just seconds after swallowing it. 

It had not happened to anyone, but it made sense that should you be discovered by zombies as you lay there unconscious following the consumption of WAT-5, that they would pass you right on by.  The olfactory invisibility should apply and you should not hold any savory appeal to the zombies at that moment.

Gem gave each of them a fresh wafer from the refrigerator and the men ate them down with water chasers.

“Get more from Kev and bring back a big supply of the wafers,” said Charlie.  “We’re going to need to stock up the orphans with a lot of it.”

“The orphans?” asked Hemp.

“Yeah,” said Charlie.  “That’s what they are, right?”

“Absolutely,” said Dave.  “And yeah, we’ll get the stuff.”

“We’re heading out,” said Flex.  “Wish more of you could go.”

“Not as much as I do,” said Charlie, eyeing the Parker Tornado crossbow leaning in the corner. 

Gem put her arms around Flex and kissed his neck.  “Be careful.”

“I will,” he said, pecking her lips.

A couple more hugs, and Dave and Flex left. 

“Gem,” said Hemp, “have your nap.”

He went to the door and looked through the window, then turned back to Gem and Charlie.  “They’re rat and zombie free for now,” he said.  “I want to get the girl into the lab now.  Charlie, will you help?”

“Say no more,” said Gem, staggering to the sofa where she fell down and put her legs up, pulling a light cotton blanket over her.

“That looks too comfortable, Gem.”

Charlie ran and leapt onto the opposite sofa and lay on her side, bringing her knees up to her chest, her head on a throw pillow.  “Sorry, baby.  I need to take a powder, too.  You’re on your own with the zombie chick.”

Hemp looked perplexed.  “Are you serious?”

Charlie laughed and sat up.  “Are
you
serious?  When’s the last time I refused you anything?”

Hemp smirked.  “True enough.  Let’s do it.  I think there are some interesting things to learn from that one.”

*****

After they both pulled on nitrile gloves from a ever-present box in the kitchen, Hemp eased open the garage door, but nothing jumped out at him.  The generator did not power anything in the garage but the refrigerator, and Hemp could hear the slight purr of the compressor, but nothing else.

No knocking, crashing, or even footsteps.

“That’s eerie,” said Charlie.  “Headlight time.”

He reached into his pocket for his always-handy headlight, even as Charlie slid the elasticized band of her light over her hair and turned it on.  In the front of the garage, next to the overhead door, sat the lady in red. 

Sitting.  Just like Blue Eyes had done in her cell.  Again, with the zombies resting.  Red Dress turned her head toward their lights. 

“We need you to come here,” said Hemp, waving her over with a hand gesture.

Charlie looked at him.  “Why are you talking to her and motioning like she’s human?”

“Something’s different about her, my dear.  I need to treat her more like a pet that we talk to rather than a creature with no capacity for learning or understanding.”

“But for fuck’s sake, babe, isn’t that exactly what she is?  A creature with no capacity for that stuff?”

The zombie stood.  She did not use her hands.  She got on her knees, then moved her legs beneath her and got on her feet. 

“See that?” asked Hemp.  “Motor skills and awareness of how to stand up.”

“A damned Dalmatian can stand up,” said Charlie.  “And they’re not the brightest bulbs in the canine world.”

“Show me a dead Dalmatian who can get up,” said Hemp.  “Then I might find your argument has merit.”

“Let’s get her and get this part over with,” said Charlie.  “No sense in dragging it out.”

Hemp smiled.  “Was that your idea of a pun?”

“Nope, but it was pretty good, huh?”

They walked forward, toward the thing wearing the filthy red dress.  As Hemp looked at her, he decided he was glad the dress was red.  The darker red stains on it were less obvious.

Hemp approached on her left side and Charlie on her right.  They each slowly took her upper arm and gave her a gentle tug toward the house.  She threw one leg forward, then the other, moving along with them in their desired direction.

Hemp and Charlie led her inside, then out the front door and to the RV.  There were a couple of Ratz scurrying along the ground, but Charlie dispatched them with a belt-clipped spray bottle of urushiol.

They got her to the RV and Hemp mounted the steps first, his latex-encased hand gripping the creature’s wrist.  Charlie followed from behind, pushing up against her until she was inside. 

“You want her on a gurney?” asked Charlie.  “Like her?”  She motioned to the other female from the prison. 

“No, no,” said Hemp.  “I just want her in the containment area.  We’ll put them both in there.”

Since building the lab at the steel mill and now, here in
Concord, Hemp had set this mobile lab up as mostly a transport and storage facility for the zombies they needed.  What had been a fairly large surgical-type suite in the back was now just an empty area where zombies could be held while transporting them.

The idea for the wall had come directly from Ryan Carville’s makeshift prison; it was thick acrylic they’d found in a manufacturing facility in town.  The primary difference was they didn’t bother drilling vent or conversation holes.  They merely mounted a clear, acrylic door with knob and hinges.  The walls within the cage were also smooth acrylic.  It was a perfect observation area.

Charlie came up the two steps and closed the door behind her, locking it.  She then went to the front of the mobile lab and fired the generator.  The lights flickered to life, and the refrigerator switched from propane to electric.

“Better,” said Hemp.  “Let’s put her in.”

The vapor over the zombies eyes was enough to make her eyes pink, but there was nothing emitting.  No clouds of knockout gas.  The zombie looked as though she were sedated.  She did not struggle, or attempt to attack and bite them.  If it could be called as much, she
cooperated
.

Once the door was closed, Charlie stared at her for a moment.

“If they didn’t want to devour us so bad, they wouldn’t be that big a problem.”

“True, but when we see them responding to us like they are now, we tend to forget that when we’re not on WAT-5 they’re in a frenzy.  They’re no different than a bloody Great White Shark.”