The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (129 page)

“Wait,” said Vikki.  “Why would you use the State House basement as a trap?  We were using that building as a base for a long time.”

“The door from the basement to the interior of the State House has recently been triple dead bolted, Vikki.  They could not have made it inside.  We practically dropped bread crumbs for them to find it, though.”

Vikki shook her head.  “I’m afraid to ask.”

“No need,” said Hemp.  “I’ll tell you.  When the hunters would bring in deer or moose,” he said, “We would save the organs and have them scattered beside the walkway leading to the basement door.”

“Is
that
what stank out there?” asked Vikki.

“It did not stink to them,” said Hemp.  “It was only left out at night,” he said.  “Crews picked the pieces back up at 5:30 AM and refrigerated it until midnight, when it was put out again.”

“Quite a plan,” said Vikki.  “But it worked.”

“Yes.  Based on the video surveillance, I estimate there are at least thirty of the intelligent ones in there.  I would like two of them; one pregnant, and the other just of child-bearing years.”

“How do we draw them out?” asked Vikki.  “We can’t take on thirty of them.”

“I have a terrible idea,” said Hemp.  “But it’s a good idea.”

“So how’s it terrible?” asked Vikki.

“You’ll see soon enough,” said Hemp.  “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” said Vikki.  “This shit is fun.  I wanna shoot something.”

“How about shooting
that
?” asked Hemp, pointing to a figure staggering up the street toward them. 

Vikki felt the side of her belt for the spray bottle of Urushiol that Hemp insisted everyone carry.  It was still highly effective on the ratz and the regular infecteds.  They had both taken WAT-5 as well, which meant that they would be protected should any pink eye vapor come their way.

“Should I shoot it or use the oil?”

“You already know how to handle a spray bottle.  Give him fifteen feet, then take your shot.”

“Fair enough,” said Vikki.  She raised her weapon, trained the scope on the figure’s head, and then slowly lowered it again, looking confused.

“What’s wrong?” asked Hemp.

“Nothing,” she said.  “No, everything’s okay.  It’s just dark out.  I can just see a silhouette.” 

“He’s one of them,” said Hemp.  “While it’s possible, it’s dangerous and pointless to imitate that shuffling gait.”

She raised the weapon again and looked through the scope.  Her finger slowly squeezed the trigger and the shot rang through the night.

Black mist and skull fragments erupted from the creature as its arms flew outward and it buckled at the knees.  It crumpled to the ground.  Vikki lowered her weapon and looked at Hemp.  “I want to see,” she said.  “exactly where I hit it.”

“Be my guest,” said Hemp.  She scanned the roadway on both sides as she walked.  When she reached the corpse, she leaned forward, looking down at it.

“Oh, my God!” she screamed.  “Hemp!”

Hemp ran over.  “What, Vikki?  Is it still alive?”

“No,” she said.  “He’s … he’s not.  Oh, my God, Hemp, look at him.”

Hemp knelt down and looked at the young man, from whose abdomen a twisted piece of metal jutted.  From this and the several contusions on the boy’s face, Hemp knew he had already been dead by the time Vikki Solms shot him.

Hemp looked into Vikki’s horrified face.  “That’s Jimmy Dickson,” said Hemp.  “The boy Flex and the others have been searching for.”

*****

“Hemp, you there?”  The voice was muffled.

Doc Scofield walked over to Kevin Reeves, who lay contained within the hyperbaric chamber. 

“Kev, you’re awake.  How do you feel?”

“Good.  Really good.  Where’s Hemp?”

“Went out to find some zombies,” said Scofield.  “It’s just you, me and the ladies.”

“Pull back the curtain, would you?” asked Reeves.

Scofield slid the curtain along the rod, retracting it.

Kimberly waved, stood and walked up to the chamber.  “Kev, you do look good.  How do you feel?”

“I actually feel great,” he said.  “No headache, very little pain at the injury site.  This is amazing.”

“God, that’s good news.  Vik and Hemp went out.  Rebecca and I are on the new wafers.  I suppose the professor won’t have a name for them until he figures out exactly what they do.”

“How long has he been gone?”

“About thirty-five minutes,” said Scofield.  “He came back for a net, so since then.”

“A net?”

“Be Prepared,” said Scofield.  “Boy Scouts motto.”

“I remember it well, and Hemp generally is,” said Reeves.  “I’d like to get out of this thing, but I suppose I’ll wait until he gets back.”

Scofield laughed.  “You’re gonna have to.  Above my pay grade.”

“Gotcha,” said Reeves, laying his head back down.

“I don’t feel anything,” said Rebecca.  “Just the same.”

“I think that’s a good thing,” said Kimberly.  “Same here.”

*****

Hemp and Vikki each took an arm and dragged Jimmy from the middle of the street.  Hemp examined him with an LED light.

“It’s hard to say how long ago he turned, but he was definitely one of them.”  He looked at Vikki, whose face was still horrified.  “It would’ve had to have been done, Vikki.  We know it’s irreversible.”

“I would never have wanted to be the one to kill Jimmy.  He was a good kid.”

Hemp put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.  “Vikki, this wasn’t that kid.  This is a creature that would have attacked you.  No recognition.  No conscience.  Any of your sisters, too.  I’m worried about Flex and his team, though.  If Jimmy’s here, where the hell have they gone?”

“Let’s get what we need and get back,” said Vikki. 

“Okay.”

Hemp walked more slowly, allowing Vikki the time she needed to recover.  He needed her shooting skills to be on point.

“Over here, Vikki.”  He fished in his pocket and withdrew a set of keys.  They approached a black paneled van that was parked at the curb among the vehicles used as  a barricade.

“What’s this?” asked Vikki.  “We driving somewhere?”

“No,” said Hemp.  “Only a few of us know about this.  We have heavier duty vehicles parked around town in strategic locations.  Locked tight.  All the officials know to keep folks away from them and not to draw attention to them.”

“Okay, you got me.  What are they?”

“You’ll see,” said Hemp, putting the key in the rear door keyhole.  He turned it and flipped the handle, pulling open the door.

Inside were boxes of ammunition, signal flare guns, handheld flamethrowers, and rifles of all kinds.

“Wow,” said Vikki.  “For The Big One?”

“Indeed,” said Hemp, moving some things around.  “Ah, here they are.”

He lifted a device out and gave it to Vikki.  “What is this?” she asked, turning it over. 

“It’s a Seac Sting spear gun,” said Hemp.  “Modified with a thirty-foot cord.  And it’s loaded, so be careful.”

Vikki turned the spear tip toward the ground and away from her feet.  “And … what are we going to do with these?”

“We, my dear, are going to spear us a zombie,” he said.

“I thought we needed two zombies.”

“I changed my mind.  After what you just went through, one will do.  In fact, depending on what happens with Kevin in the Hyperbaric Chamber, she may serve two purposes.”

“Let’s get it over with,” said Vikki.  “What’s the plan?”

“Let’s make sure we’ve got everything we need,” he said, leaning inside the van again.  He slung the spear gun over his shoulder and Vikki did the same, but more carefully.

He slid the lid from a wooden box and withdrew two full-faced gas masks with large, round filters.

“We going diving, or hunting?” asked Vikki.

“We take no chances,” said Hemp.  “Too much is unknown yet.”

“Okay,” said Vikki.  “But  if we only need one zombie, why do we have two spear guns?”

“Backup,” Hemp said.  He reached back into the van and pulled out a large, handheld spotlight.  “Rechargeable.  Two million candlepower.”

Hemp reached in once more and pulled out an aluminum tube with a horseshoe shaped device on one end and a large, rubber foot on the other.

“I’m not asking,” said Vikki.

“We’ll need it, I’m fairly certain,” said Hemp.  He re-locked the van, and started jogging toward the State House basement steps, just across the adjacent lawn.  “Keep up and gird your loins, lass” he said.  “We’re almost there.”

“You can be so British sometimes,” she said, her breath coming in wheezes.  “I shouldn’t have smoked all those years.”

“Actually, that axiom is either Biblical or  Roman, I’m not sure which.  And no, you shouldn’t have.”

*****

Chapter Sixteen

The group crouched low and ran through the increasing smoke, only stopping to shine the headlamps by hand around blind corners.

“Keep your ears and eyes peeled,” said Flex.  “Most of them aren’t the slickest dicks in town, but we also lost one of the smart ones, and there’s no telling what she’ll do.”

Behind the main reception area where the female had disappeared was a series of hallways.  They were painted in a brown and white cinderblock, with the brown covering the lower half of the walls.  The doors on the right led to the prisoner section of the visiting area, which meant the cell blocks were likely on the left side somewhere. 

“Wait!” said Eddie, third in the line.  “Look!”

Flex looked back and him and saw that he pointed to something on the floor.  Flex went to it and bent over to retrieve it.  It was a key ring charm.  A heart, sparsely bejeweled with pink rhinestones.

Flex held it up.  “You recognize this?” he asked.

“Yes!” said Eddie, a smile on his face for the first time that evening.  “It’s Nikki’s.  She gave it to Jimmy, but he didn’t want it on his keys, so she just kept it on her.  Like a good luck charm.  But it’s trashed.”

Flex held it up and looked at it.  “Yeah, most of the fake stones are gone.”  He squinted at it.  “There’s blood on it.”

“Oh, no,” said Eddie.

“I’m afraid so,” said Flex.  “Not much.  But look here,” he said, holding it out to Eddie.  “Does this look like someone scraped these off on purpose?”

Eddie took the charm, which was bulbous and about two inches high.  “Yeah, like with a fingernail.  In a straight line.”  He turned it over.  “Here, too.”

Flex shone his headlamp down the corridor.  Tiny, sparkling stones caught his attention every ten feet or so.

Flex smiled and turned toward the others.  “Hot damn!” he said.

“Hot damn bread crumbs,” said West.  “They’re leaving us bread crumbs.”

“Yes they are,” said Flex, moving at speed again.  The others followed behind.  They rounded the next corner, and almost tripped over a body.

Bell
shone his light on it.  “Head shot.”

“And from a .22, from the looks of the hole,” said Flex.  “Clean, small.  This might have been Jimmy.”

“Look here,” said Eddie.  “A foot print.  Looks like someone nearly slipped in the blood.”

Flex looked down, and sure enough, a sneaker print had originated beside the zombie and slid toward the gap between the body and the wall.  The print wasn’t facing the direction they’d come, but it wasn’t facing the direction they were headed, either.

West shone his light ahead.  “There’s more crumbs,” he said, stepping around Flex.  Flex followed, and Eddie and Bell brought up the rear.

They came upon a locked, steel door.  There was a small window in the center of it with bars across it.  West looked through.

“Whoa,” he said.  “Not good.”

Flex shook his head and sighed.  “How many.”

West counted in silence for so long that Flex grew impatient.  “Larry?”

“I actually go by
Lawrence.”

“Sorry,” said Flex.  “That’s a first for me.  Can I call you Larry anyway?”

“I’d prefer West.  And there are twenty-two that I count.  And some dead ones, too.  Not eaten.”

“So more of Jimmy’s kills, I guess,” said Flex.  “Everyone get spare magazines in an easy pocket, and let’s pop this door.  Let me know when you’re ready.”

Again, Flex waited.  Everybody was busily shifting ammo around, checking magazines, refilling.  Then everyone fell still, looking at Flex.

Nobody spoke.

“You’re not gonna tell me you’re ready, are you?” asked Flex.

“I’m never ready for this shit,” said
Bell.  “I’d just as soon stand here and stare at you than go through that door.”

“Okay, then alternate plan,” said Flex.  “It just came to me.  Shooting practice.”

“What do you mean?” asked Eddie.

“Eddie, that door looks to be a pull.  You pull it open and hang behind it, ‘cause you’re not on WAT-5.  Swap with Waylon and fire his pistol through the bars as you see a shot.  Should be perfect, ‘cause it’s head height.”

“And you guys?”

“Well, seeing as how we’re on the wafers, and also seeing as how these are men, as far as I can tell, we’ll be just like them.  Undetectable.  And that being the case, we’ll just shoot the fuckers as they come through the door.  That’s my plan.”

“And me?”

“You’re kinda the bait,” said Flex.  “They’re gonna want to eat you, but don’t worry.  We won’t let them get to you.”

“Then can’t I stand behind you guys?” asked Eddie.

Flex shook his head.  “And what if Red Eyes came creeping up from behind us?” he asked.  “You’d be the first one she got to.  This is a better plan, believe me.”

“Jeez,” said Eddie.  “Let’s just get this over with and find them already.”

“I think that’s what I’ve been sayin’,” said Flex.  “Waylon?  Keys?”

Bell stepped between West and Flex and slid the key into the lock.  It did not turn, so he tried another.  It turned slightly, but he did not fully disengage the lock tumblers.

“Say when,” he said.

In a low voice, Eddie, West and Flex all said it together:

“When.”

*****

“Okay,” said Hemp, leaning the aluminum tube against the wall beside the door.  “Do you remember my instructions?”

“You just told them to me a second ago.”

“Please, Vikki.  It’s important.  Repeat them, quietly.”

“When we see the one you want and you give me the word –”

“Which is what?” asked Hemp.

“Now.”

“Yes.  Sorry.  Go on.”

“When you say now, I shoot my spear at her, center mass.”

“And where exactly is center mass?”

“Chest area, but stomach is okay, too.”

“Precisely, Vikki.  Good.  Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.  But I’m cold, and I want to do this.  I don’t know if this is just adrenaline or if I’m really about to pee my pants.”

“It’s both,” said Hemp.  “I feel exactly the same.  I’m going to ease the door open, so put on your mask and I’ll put on mine.  I’ll use hand signals for movement, so even though it will be muffled, the only word I’m going to say is
now
.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, one more thing.  I don’t know how aware they are, or what kind of state they’re in while they wait.”

“What are they waiting for?”

“I don’t know,” said Hemp.  “Their time, perhaps.  Their moment.  Anyway, we need to be stealthy.  When I pull the door open, we crouch low and slip in.  Not a peep once we’re inside.  We’re going to initially do this without light.”

“I’m like fifty years old,” said Vikki.  “I don’t crouch like I used to.”

“Do your best.”

“Why do we have to keep the lights off?”

“Because with only thirty feet of cord, we need to get as close as possible.  Once we get one of them, the others will come after us, possibly quite fast.”

“So why the light if we can’t use it?”

Hemp sighed.  He appreciated an inquisitive nature, but they were getting nowhere.

“Because it’s a tool, Vikki.  I don’t care what you are,” he said, holding up the spotlight.  “If you’ve got eyes, this bastard will blind you.  Good enough?”

“Yep.”

“Mask on.”

Vikki pulled her mask down.  Hemp did, too.

He looked at her one last time and nodded.

She nodded back.

Hemp Chatsworth opened the door to Hell.

*****

Because of the filters through which they breathed, Hemp couldn’t smell the telltale stink of the creatures, therefore, could not tell whether the room was occupied.

But it
felt
occupied.  They stood on the landing, which was four steps higher than the floor of the large room.  It stretched off to the north and south, but he expected that several of the females would be in the immediate area, just near the entrance.

Hemp eased the door closed behind them without even a soft click.  It was dark, and even when their eyes adjusted, they would doubtlessly see only silhouettes, if anything.  Hemp wondered if the creatures would be prone beneath the vapor as they had been inside the auction building.

That had not turned out well.  Kevin Reeves still lay in recovery from that experience.

Hemp kept one hand on Vikki’s shoulder.  As his pupils expanded, utilizing whatever meager light was available to illuminate the room and its occupants, Hemp saw the mist, swirling just above the floor.

His heart sank.  Now he had to figure out a way to capture one of them without alerting the entire room, which could literally contain hundreds of the creatures.

Then he thought of a way.  It was a shitty way, and there was no guarantee of success or getting an apt subject.  As Hemp analyzed his predicament, he wondered if he shouldn’t have anticipated it after the events at the auction house.

There was nothing to be done now.  Vikki wasn’t a big woman, but she wasn’t small, either.  Through sheer hard work over the months, he’d seen her musculature increase, and she looked like she would be able to hold her own for what Hemp had in mind.  A lot depended on how the creature responded.

He tapped her on the arm and nodded toward the door.  She nodded in response.

Hemp eased the door open again and they both slipped through, and he closed the door quietly behind them.  They both removed their masks.

“New plan,” he said.  “Like the old one, but a bit chancier.”

“Okay,” said Vikki.  “What is it?”

“We’ve got one, maybe two shots at this.  If we fail, we run.”

“I get it.  Shoot.”

“A blind shot with the spear.  I’ll calculate the position using average heights, and I’ll shoot first.  If there is a problem, you need to be ready to shoot next.  I do not want to leave here without our intended bounty.”

“You know I’ll do everything I can to make sure we don’t,” said Vikki. 

Hemp told her the plan and they went back inside.  The net and the aluminum tube remained outside beside the door, awaiting the call of necessity. 

Once inside, Hemp crept to the bottom step, just above the basement floor.  The crimson mist swirled and licked skyward, and Hemp knew that the creatures lay beneath, gathering their strength, honing their intelligence.  They had lain very uniformly at the auction house, wasting not a bit of the available floor space.  Feet against wall, head to feet, one after the other, arm touching arm. 

A zombie carpet.

The question was troubling.  They would obviously be going after one in the first row, closest to their exit.  Once caught, they would have to get it up the stairs, through the door, and back to the lab.  Hemp felt in his rear pocket for the handcuffs.

They were there.  His mind whirled.  In the first row, were they lying prone heads left or heads right?  If firing blindly with the spear gun, he needed to know where center mass would be. 

Choose one, Hemp.  You have to make the call.

Head first.  Screw it.  He began measuring by sight, calculating where center mass would be on the zombie closest to the exit steps.

Hemp raised his spear gun.  The rubber was stretched to its maximum, the trigger tight.  He made sure the extended-length cord was untangled.

He closed one eye and aimed.  There was no sense in delaying this. 

Hemp fired the spear.  He did not hear the sound of the metal spear tip impact concrete, so he stood up and pulled with all his might.

An arm raised from the mist, just against the first step.  Then a head and torso.  This creature was female, and from what Hemp could tell, a blonde.   Hemp watched the remainder of the floor carefully.  No noise had come from the zombie and as he pulled with all his might, the creature got to its feet, unsteady but with a determined gaze, directly at the two.

As it stood, Hemp glanced quickly behind him.  “Now!” he called. 

Vikki, who had the spear gun raised and aimed as she moved forward, took two steps down.  She had been poised on the landing at the top.

Hemp’s spear had pierced the side of the creature, but did not seem to have penetrated and come out the other side.  This meant the large, retractable barb was wedged inside her body, creating an inescapable situation.

Vikki fired.  Her spear flew true, and she hit the creature almost dead center to its solar plexus.

“Now pull!” shouted Hemp. 

Vikki did.  She backed up the steps quickly, hit the door and leaned back.  Hemp moved up the stairs, gathering up the slack in the line.  The creature was now being pulled forward, and did not seem to understand immediately what was being done to her.