The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (131 page)

“What do you mean by bit,” asked West.  “Was he attacked?”

“It was the ones I guess you just killed,” her voice came again.  “You didn’t see him out there?  He was going for help.”

Flex shook his head as he tried the door, then motioned to
Bell to try his keys. 

Waylon Bell stepped forward.  He looked carefully at the lock, then thumbed through the keys.  Two looked to be the right shape. 
Bell tried the first.

The key turned and the latched clanked. 
Bell pulled the cell door open, and Flex went inside.

It stank.  A dead zombie lay on one side of the cell, with no fewer than six bullet holes in him.  They appeared to be mostly chest and shoulder shots, but there was only one in its head, just above the left eye.

The frightened girl stood there crying and Flex walked to her and pulled her into his arms.

“It’s okay, Nikki.  “We’ll try to find Jimmy.”

“He … he left a long time ago,” she said.  “I guess.  It seems long.  I don’t know, though.  It’s dark and I don’t have a watch, and –”

“Shh,” said Flex.  “It’s okay, Nikki.  We gotta get you out of here.   The fire is spreading.”

“It was getting hard to breathe,” she said.  “And hot.”

“Let’s go.  Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

Flex looked at
Bell and West.  “We gotta try to wake Eddie,” said Flex.  “She’s right – it is getting hotter in here, which could mean this building is engulfed.  We fuck around much more and we could be trapped.”

They eased Nikki through the room littered with dead bodies, and stepped into the next chamber of the corridor.  Eddie lay on the floor, unmolested. 

West did not hesitate.  He leaned forward, lifted Eddie up into a sitting position and lightly slapped his cheeks.

Nothing.  West then knelt down, threaded Eddie’s arms beside his neck and hoisted him up onto his shoulder.  In a smooth motion, Lawrence West stood up.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said.  “I think adrenaline can help me get this boy to the truck.”

*****

The vibration grew louder and louder as they each held tight to their lines, dragging the netted zombie toward the black panel van.  They were fifty yards away when Hemp looked up and saw the glow.

“Vikki, look,” he said, nodding his head toward the northern horizon.  “Fire.”

“I can smell it,” said Vikki.  “How the hell did it start?  It looks huge.”

“Hurry, Vikki,” said Hemp.  “All you’ve got.  I have a bad feeling.”

It began to feel as though the breeze carried with it not only smoke, but a chalky, dry dust.  The pulsating sound rattled Hemp’s teeth, and began affecting his concentration. 

They reached the van and Hemp pulled out the remote, triggering the unlock mechanism.  He pulled the rear doors open. 

A loud noise came from behind them.  In the pale light of the evening, the walls of the State House building appeared to shift and move; Hemp wondered briefly if it was an illusion, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of brick and block cracking and collapsing.

“Let’s lift her in, Vikki!  Hurry!” 

“We gotta tie her or something, Hemp!  She’s only in the net.”

“Here,” said Hemp.  They had her just on the ground beside the open, rear doors.  The creature was thrashing within the net, and Hemp muscled her onto her stomach, avoiding her slashing hands and fingernails. 

“Grab her right wrist, but be careful,” he said.  He took hold of her left wrist and pulled it back behind her.  Vikki struggled to hold on to the thing’s arm.  She had it, then it jerked away again, and Vikki jumped back. 

Like a dog watching a lake surface for a fish to appear, Vikki gauged the ease with which she could seize the female’s arm, grabbing for it when she felt she had the best chance to keep it. 

Hemp snapped the cuff on the left wrist, and waited patiently.

Vikki got it.  With both hands, she pulled the creature’s right wrist close to her left, and Hemp clamped on the other handcuff.

“We haven’t much time, Vikki.  We need to get her in the van now!”

They each stood on opposite sides of the net and curled their fingers though, careful to avoid anywhere near her face.  “On two,” said Hemp.

At the count, they groaned and lifted Hemp’s new test subject into the van.  Hemp slammed the doors to reveal a crowd of walking dead moving briskly from the now crumbled corner of the building toward the van.   Their eyes glowed from pink to bright red, and they were less than twenty-five yards away.

“Oh, my God,” said Vikki.  “Hemp!”

Hemp climbed in the driver’s side and Vikki was seated in the passenger seat a split-second later.  Hemp fired the engine, which turned on the first try.

Suddenly, something slammed into the side of the van, rocking it back and forth.  From behind them, the powerful, low tone began again.

“Vikki, put on your mask,” said Hemp.  “Now.”

Vikki pulled the mask hanging from her neck up over her mouth and nose. 

Hemp pulled his on too, and no sooner were they in place, did a crimson vapor billow from the rear of the van, nearly filling the passenger compartment in seconds.

The van was hit again, hard on the driver’s side.  Hemp saw why.  There were at least fifty of the creatures outside pushing into the van, backing up and ramming it repeatedly as though directed to do so.

The vibration came louder, almost manic. It was as though the zombie behind them, cuffed and trapped in the net, was directing the attack through her primal, non-verbal communication.

Hemp threw the van into reverse and hit the gas hard.  The van rocketed backward, hit something solid and came to an abrupt stop.  The creatures were in front of the van now, and Hemp did not know how he would be able to push through them, but now that they were trapped within, it was their only option.

He dropped the gear shift into drive and floored it.

The heavy van surged forward and the bodies pressed briefly against the windshield, then folded beneath it.  But there were dozens more behind them, and as they fell, they became tire chocks.  The van could not move.

“Shit!” shouted Hemp, slamming it into reverse once more.  He punched the accelerator, and this time the van’s rear tires rolled atop a mound of something – bodies, he assumed – and gained a mushy sort of traction.  He spun the steering wheel, attempting to throw the front end into the clear.

But there was no clear.  Seeing that, Hemp kept it in reverse.  He looked at his rear view mirror, but nothing was visible through the blacked out rear windows, very much by design.

Vikki was in tears beside him, but Hemp was certain she wasn’t aware of it.  Her sobs were quiet, and her white-knuckled hands gripped the door and center console, trying to keep herself in her seat as the heavy vehicle lurched backwards into unknown obstacles.

Another sharp jolt, and Hemp felt the van list sharply to his right.  As he spun the wheel again, he glanced to his left to see dozens of faces pushing, clawing and scrambling, as though they believed they could push right through the steel exterior and be inside where food awaited them.

Hemp felt himself being lifted.  The angle grew sharper and sharper.

The van was now sitting on the two passenger side wheels, and Hemp was running out of options.  If it tilted up another foot, the van would roll onto its side, and glass may break.

He and Vikki would be dead.

Physics, he thought.  What move must I perform, both with the steering wheel and the accelerator, to force this vehicle back down?

Hemp closed his eyes.  Vikki remained silent.  He visualized the vehicle on its right side tires, and in under a second, he made the call.

He cranked the steering wheel hard left and with the transmission in reverse, he floored the engine.

The effect essentially pulled the rug out from under the van, causing the driver’s side wheels to once again slam into the ground.  Once this occurred, the van jolted backward again, and with the steering wheel still turned full left, the front end of the van swung hard and fast to the right, knocking another ten ghouls away from them.

When they came to rest, the path was clear in front.  Hemp threw it into drive and floored it.

Initially struggling, as though several bodies were caught beneath the truck, the rear end lifted, hopped, and seconds later they were moving.

Five miles per hour.  Ten.  Twenty.

“I freaking love you,” said Vikki.  “God, Hemp.  Thank you.”

Hemp nodded, but said nothing.  The bar was just ahead.  The glow on the northern horizon troubled him.

He pulled in and backed the rear of the van up to the exterior entry door to the lab, noticing that Flex’s truck was nowhere in sight.  Its absence added more dread to this already long, dreadful night.

*****

Chapter Seventeen

Flex led the group back through the corridors, the smoke thickening.  What the hell was burning inside this concrete and steel madhouse he didn’t know, but if it could burn, it was on fire.

That much was clear.  His lungs ached.

“How are you holdin’ up, Larry?” he asked, not looking back.

“Like I told you before, it’s
Lawrence, and I’m doing fine,” he wheezed.  “Sooner we get out of here the better, though.”

A figure came out of the dark, and Flex’s light shone on white, sightless eyes. 

Nikki screamed, “Ian!”

Flex had seen a looming zombie, thrashed and broken, barely able to hold himself up using the walls as support.

But hungry.  Hungry like all of them.  And Nikki had instantly seen what Flex did not.

It
was
Ian.  His clothes were the same, and the gaping hole where his heart had been oozed gore as Flex ducked quickly to his right, turned and fired into the walking cadaver’s head.  The newly born ghoul slammed into the brown, painted block wall and slid down, no doubt leaving a telltale smear of bodily fluids.

“Oh, my God!” shouted Nikki.  “Ian!”

Then Flex realized that while he was trying to kill the female beneath Ian, he had never fired a round into Ian’s brain to prevent him from coming back.  After he’d been tossed across the room to slam into the wall, Flex never considered he’d be able to actually walk.

Another of their amazing and frightening talents.

“Keep moving,” said Flex.  “He’s gone.  He was gone, Nikki.”

“I see it!” shouted
Bell.  “The exit!”

He was right.  It was still open, outlined in a yellow, flickering glow.  Flex took Nikki’s arm, and in five more steps they reached the door and pushed through it.

It was worse than Flex had imagined.  The flames burned high and hot as far as the eye could see.  The overgrown foliage was not wet enough from the sparse snowfall and the flames were driven by the northerly wind directly toward downtown Concord.  Flex wondered how far it had gotten, but one thing was clear; he couldn’t see the end of the fire line, which may have been ten miles across or more.

Once outside, they staggered to a stop and tried to catch their collective breath as they saw their path back the way they’d come narrowed by the encroaching flames.

“That shit is moving,” said Bell.  “Can we make it through there without getting burned alive?”

Eddie was still out cold, and West’s groan told Flex they needed to get to the truck.  But
Bell was right.  They now only had a five-foot gap between the prison wall and the corner of the building.  What lay beyond that was up to chance and hope.

They ran in a slow jog, their weapons raised.  Several walking, burning bodies thrashed wildly through the burning grass around them, no longer a threat now that they were aflame.  As the corner approached, Flex said another quick, rare prayer.

They rounded the corner, and their path was intact.  Not by much.  They had perhaps three feet to skirt through, and any hesitation might mean even less room and charred skin.

“Keep your eyes on the ground so you don’t trip, and go as fast as you can!” shouted Flex, waving West and his cargo ahead.  Bell waved Nikki through, her mouth set in a straight line, her eyes watching where she placed each step, as though to avoid looking anywhere else. 
Bell followed, and Flex brought up the rear.

The heat and smoke was intense, as if a thousand hay bales burned around them.  The flames created their own hot wind, contrasting with the cold.

They ran.

Their speed was hindered slightly by West, but even with the kid on his back, his pumping legs ate up real estate at a good clip.

They reached the fence and Bell and Flex held it open for West, who ducked through, still with Eddie over his shoulder. 

He has to be exhausted by now
, thought Flex. 
Tough bastard.

After Nikki went through,
Bell and Flex followed.  They got to the truck, which was parked deep enough in the parking lot that the flames torching the perimeter did not touch it.  The heat from the flames was like a blast furnace, even in the cold, ambient air.

Everyone got inside.  West lowered Eddie into the back seat and pushed him to the center, sliding in after him.

Nikki sat on his other side, holding his unmoving hand.

Flex fired the engine and looked around him for a way out.  It wasn’t clear, even as he hit the accelerator.

Even so, the sound of Nikki’s soft sobs in the back seat gave him a kind of peace.  If they had survived the last twenty minutes, they could survive anything.

*****

“Get the door!” shouted Hemp as he pushed through, dragging his end of the net, the spear gun dragging on the floor beneath it.

The thrashing creature caught within snarled and tore at the woven rope, but she got no closer to being free.  The cuffs had hooked around it, so try as she might, she and her shot leg were captive.

“Oh, my God!” shouted Kimberly, jumping away from the creature. 

The other test subject screamed at the top of her lungs, but Scofield jumped over the bundle and held the door as Vikki came through, holding on to the other end of the line, still connected to the spear gun even while the spear itself was deeply embedded in the creature’s midsection.

“Don’t worry!” said Vikki.  “She’s caught in our web pretty good.  Close that door, Doc!  You don’t know what we saw out there.”

Scofield did.  He turned to Hemp.  “Are you okay?  Goddamn, you both look fit for a shower and a long, long nap!”

Rebecca’s face had gone pale white, and she pressed herself against the far wall on the other side of Kevin Reeves’ hyperbaric chamber.  Kimberly went over to her.

“It’s okay, Rebecca,” she said.  “It’s caught.  It can’t hurt you.”

“That’s right,” said Vikki.  “We just rode with it in the back of the van, and we’re alive.  She can’t move.”

“She is moving!” said Rebecca.

“She’s struggling,” said Kimberly.  “She’s doing that because she’s trapped.  Right Hemp?”

Hemp tried to catch his breath.  His lungs ached from the thick smoke in the air.

“There’s … a fire,” he said.  “Coming … fast from the north.”

“Isn’t that where the prison is?” asked Scofield?  “Where Flex and them are?”

Hemp nodded.  He knew it all too well.

“Another thing,” he said.  “We found Jimmy Dickson.”

“Oh, my God.  Is he okay?” asked Kimberly.

Vikki shook her head, and tears flooded into her eyes.  “No,” she said.  “I killed him.”

The spear gun fell from her grasp.  It didn’t matter.  The creature was going nowhere.

“You what?” shouted Rebecca.  “You killed Jimmy?”

Jimmy had been well known even among the girls in their twenties because of his mature, good looks and bravado.

“He wasn’t himself anymore, Rebecca” said Hemp, looking at Vikki.  “You know that, Vikki.  He was one of them, and he was already dead when you put him out of his horror.”

“Where’s Nikki then?” asked Kimberly.  “He was alone?”

“We only saw Jimmy,” wept Vikki.  “He was staggering down the middle of the street, and I … I shot him.  I didn’t know it was him.  I thought something was familiar, the clothes or something, but I …”

Kimberly went to Vikki and pulled her into her arms, holding her as only a sister could.  Vikki’s heaving sobs racked her body as she sank into her sibling’s embrace.

The zombie in the webbing struggled, reminding Hemp of his next task.

“Doc,” he said.  “We need to get her strapped down and stabilized, and quickly.  Do me a favor and prepare that gurney with restraints.  I need to go talk to Gem and Charlie.”

Hemp pushed through the interior door and walked the corridor into the main room of the bar.  Since he’d left, they had switched from generator power to candles.  Hemp was glad. 

It was common practice; if there was no essential need for power, they moved to lanterns and candlelight.  The sheer volume of bodies in the room provided much needed warmth, and there were over sixty people in the room at present.

Hemp saw Charlie immediately upon entering the room, because she was the only one running through the group toward him.  Her arms flew around his neck, and she held him, saying nothing.

“I’m fine, Charlie.  Tired, but fine.”

“I was so damned worried, babe,” she said.  “I had my headphones on trying to distract my brain with Marty Friedman, but fuck if it didn’t work.”

“I don’t know who that is, but I’m sorry he couldn’t help.  Let’s go to Gem.  I need to tell her something.”

“Flex is okay, right?” said Charlie, her voice like dull metal.

“As far as I know, yes,” he said.  “Come on.”

Trina lay over Gem’s lap, sleeping with a string of drool hanging from her lower lip.  Hemp leaned down and kissed Gem on the cheek.

“Hey, professor,” said Gem, her eyes desperate, pleading.  “Flex?”

Hemp shook his head.  “No.  But we found Jimmy Dickson.  He’d turned into one of them and Vikki shot him.”

Charlie drew in her breath suddenly.  “No,” she said.

“Really?  Oh, Hemp.  Where the hell is Flex, then?”

“As far as I know he’s either at the prison looking for him and Nikki, or he’s on his way back.  It’s all I know.”

“Jesus, Hemp,” said Gem.  “He’s been gone way too long.”

“I agree,” said Hemp.  “But it’s dangerous out there, Gem.  The fire is moving fast, too.  From the north.”

“That’s where the prison is,” said Gem, now sliding Trina off her lap and laying her in the chair as she stood.  Trina moaned, but did not awaken.

Gem held the little girl’s sleeve so she wouldn’t fall out of the chair.  “We need to send someone, Hemp,” she said.

“We can’t, Gem.  Flex is a big boy.  We know he knows how to stay safe, and what’s more, how to keep others safe.”

“That’s right, Gemmy,” said Charlie.  “He’s got others with him.  Nothing brings out
Super Flex
better than when he’s got others to watch out for.”

“How long has he been gone now?  Two, three hours?”

Hemp shrugged.  “I don’t know, but I can say that we need to give him more time to get back.  Take care of the girls, and I’ve got to get back in the lab.  I don’t want you there because I’ve got one of the female creatures back there.”

“Are you ready to test with the girls?”

“Yes, but I don’t know how long it lasts, the new wafers.  I don’t know what it does, but it could last just a few minutes.  An hour.  I just don’t know.”

“I’m moving to a seat beside the other door,” said Gem.  “I’ll keep an eye out.  You get your experiment done and walk back out here with good news.”

“Okay,” said Hemp.  “You tell me if your good news arrives, okay?”

“You’ll hear me scream from the lab,” said Gem, forcing a smile.

“I’ve no doubt of that,” said Hemp.  He kissed Charlie and walked back to the lab.  He took great comfort in the fact that although he did not look back, he was certain his wife’s eyes did not leave him until he disappeared into the hallway.

*****

Flex used the GPS, even though he was certain he would remember the way back to the bar.  What they saw as they reached the outskirts of town wasn’t promising.

Home after home was burning, and the flames still stretched out as far as the eye could see.  Even the two story homes were ablaze, sending leaping red, yellow and orange pyres into the sky, the sparks flying on the breeze, setting new fires where before there had been none.

They saw more burning men and women, some staggering blindly, others writhing on the ground in the final throes of death.  Flex wondered, watching them burn, if they felt pain at all in their already dead states, but it wasn’t something he thought about much and considering what they were, he didn’t give a shit anyway.

Flex thought of the radio on the seat and grabbed it.

“Hemp!  Gem!  Anyone read?  Charlie?”  He released the button and waited.

A car exploded just to their right, no further than twenty feet away, and twisted metal and flames rained down in front of them as Flex swerved the wheel, throwing everyone to the right side of the truck.

The cow catcher scraped the roadway with a harsh screech, and the truck righted itself again.

The radio crackled.  “Flex!”

It was Gem.  He pushed the button.

“Gem, it’s me!  Is everyone okay there?  Has the fire reached there yet?”

“No, not yet.  Are you okay?  You sound okay.  Are you?”

“I’m fine.  We’re all fine.  We didn’t find Jimmy.”