The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (159 page)

BOOK: The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5
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The other two came into view.  “There they are!” I shouted.  “All three of them!”

“Oh, my God,” said Serena.  “We didn’t kill
any
of them.”  She began firing directly at them, and they dropped down, the crowd again closing in on them like a hive protecting their Queen.

Their
Queens
.

“Fuel ready to be an issue,” said Rachel.  “We have maybe twenty minutes of flight time left before we’re burning fumes.”

The helicopter angled sharply east and I turned to look behind us.  I got a chill.

“Rachel,” I said.

“What is it, Dave?” came Rachel’s voice in my headset.

“They’re following us.  Turned in our direction.”

“Then we touch down, fuel up and go,” she said.  “What other choice do we have?”

“None.  But take us farther away.  We’ll just have to find another place to do that.”

We flew low toward the house we’d spotted, when Nelson spoke up. 

“Whoa, dudes.”

“What?” asked Serena.

“Look down there,” he said, pointing.  See those three there?”

“Yeah, so what?” I said, seeing the three walking stiffs moving along the street.


Okay,” said Nelson.  “Now look over there.”  He pointed to another street and there were two more, walking more or less together, in the same direction.

“Can you get a bit higher Rachel?” asked Serena, her fingers clutching the
AR-15 she still held even tighter.

“Sure, but what’s going on?” she asked.

“Hold on,” I said.  As the helicopter gained altitude, we now took in several streets, and uncannily, what was happening.

Nelson turned to look at us, swiping his long, blonde hair behind his left ear.  “They’re all going to the same place,” he said, leaving his mouth hanging open when the words were out.

“But where?” asked Rachel.

“To the group,” I whispered.  “To the females.  Holy fuck.”

I didn’t cuss a lot.  You might have noticed that.  Oh, there were moments – like right now – that I felt fuck to be the perfect word, but mostly I could internalize that stuff.

“What does this mean?” asked Serena.  “Do you think it’s a kind of telepathy?  Like what that female used on Lisa when she hit her with the red vapor?”

It wasn’t like I’d forgotten about how my sister died, but it also wasn’t something I thought about much.  Serena didn’t bring it up either, but this was clearly an exception to the rule.  We had to figure out what was happening, and if straggling zombies about town were all walking in the same direction, there was damned sure a reason for it.

“Dudes, those red-eyed-bitches are assembling their troops,” said Nelson.  “Using their damned minds.”  He looked at Rachel.  “It’s a mind fuck,” he whispered.

The laugh erupted from me involuntarily.  “No, no, Nelson.  That’s something else completely,” I said.  “What this is is mind control, and they can clearly do it from a good distance.  Rachel, do you have enough fuel to fly a bit farther away?”

“I have maybe ten minutes at this altitude and these kinds of turns before I need to set her down,” she said.  “If I fly farther away, then it needs to be somewhere we have hope of finding fuel.”

“We’ll fucking siphon it with that measly pump if we have to,” said Serena.  “What are you trying to figure out, David?”

“I need to know how far they can reach,” I said.  “How far away they can control.  What are we right now, like half a mile, as the crow flies?”

“Three quarters,” said Rachel.


Okay, just fly for a bit – I guess east.  Everyone, keep your eyes peeled for abnormals.”

“There’s one,” said Nelson.  “He’s not moving toward the group.”

Serena spoke next.  “One there, too.  See, right there by that house?”  She pointed again.  “And there.  On the street, by that blue mailbox.”

“They’re wandering,” I said, adding, “How far away are we now, Rachel?”

“Just about a mile,” she said.


Okay,” I said.  “So they can call them from approximately a mile radius, or thereabouts.  A mile in all directions.”

“How do you figure, dude?” asked Nelson.

“Because like I just said, Nelson, they’re not moving toward them, right?  They’re milling around like they do when there’s no food source nearby that they can smell or sense.”

“Good to know, I suppose,” said Serena.  “But what are we going to do about it?”

“It’s about what Nelson and I are going to do,” I said.

Serena’s eyes
flashed.  “David.  Don’t start pulling that male chauvinist shit with me now.”

“Serena,” I said, my voice calm.  “What I’m thinking about doing
is
risky, but that’s not the problem.  You or Nelson – you both have the necessary skills to do what I need.  It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re a woman.”

“So leave Nelson behind.”

“I could,” I said.  “But it’s my idea and I want Nelson with me.  You don’t even know what the plan is.”

“Neither do I, Davey,” said Nelson.  “Mind if I make the call?”

“Screw it,” I said.  “Fine.  Here’s what I want to do.”

I told them.  They stared at me like I was nuts.

“I’m going,” said Nelson.

“You could use me,” said Serena.  “There are three of them down there – at least.  Maybe more by the time you get this crazy shit plan ready.”

I saw a small neighborhood just below us.  Nothing roamed the streets in plain view.

“Rachel, set it down right here, anywhere.”

Rachel did, dropping the helicopter down to land gently on its skids.  She had come to know the characteristics of this machine as deftly as I had ever seen anyone learn anything.  When the woman had first lifted off, I could feel her testing the joystick, figuring out the controls and rotor tilt.  Not any more.  She had it down as though it were an extension of her own body.


Okay,” I said.  “You guys work on finding a place to fill this bird, okay?  This is going to take us a while.”

Serena’s face was solemn, but not angry.  I went to her.  “If anything happens, someone needs to be able to get Rachel back to Flex and the others.  If it all goes wrong, that’s where I want both of you.”

She nodded.  “I hate you.”   Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine.

“Nah, you don’t.  You love me.”

Serena shook her head, looked at me and reached out, putting her arms around my neck and pulling me close to her.  “Hurry,” she said.  “Hurry, be careful and get back to me fast.”

“I will,” I said, fishing inside my pocket.  I pulled out the baggie of WAT-5.  “Nel, you ready for a quick catnap, brother?”

“Let’s do it,” he said.

 

*****

 

We talked about the plan more extensively before taking the wafers.  We didn’t want to waste a minute of the protection they would provide in case something went terribly wrong and we needed all five hours.

After we were both nudged awake by Serena and Rachel, we put together everything we’d need in Nelson’s backpack, emptying it of the items that would not serve us.

“How many rounds do you have, and in how many mags?” asked Serena.

“We have a hundred fifty rounds in fifteen 10-round mags, plus what’s in the guns.”

“How many spare guns?” she asked.

I humored her, because I knew why she was so concerned.  I didn’t even look the slightest bit impatient, I’m pretty sure.  “Serena, we are on a time schedule now that we’ve taken the WAT-5, but we have a spare gun each.”

“It’s in case of a jam, so it’s not for nothing that I’m asking,” she said.

Maybe I had looked a bit impatient.  “I know, baby.  I’ll be fine.  Promise.”

She hugged me again and I hopped out.  Nelson came toward the door to get out, but Rachel called after him.

“Hey, Nelson, come here for a sec.”  She unbuckled and crawled out of the pilot’s seat, stepping into the passenger compartment.

“What, Rachel?” he asked, smiling his innocent, crooked smile that hid such talent and brainpower behind it.

She opened her arms, smiling.  “Come in for a hug, buddy,” she said.  “You’re gonna need some love to get you through this.”

“Hell yes,” he said, and put his arms around her, squeezing her tight.  He pulled away.  “Thanks, Rachel.”

“Love works,” she said.  “Makes you want to come back.”

Nelson leaned forward quickly and planted a peck on her lips.  Rachel pulled back, surprised, though there was a smile on her face.  “Wow!” she said.  “What was that for?” she asked.

“You and me,” he said.  “You because you needed a kiss for luck.  You have to find fuel.  Me, because it couldn’t hurt.”

“Get out of here,” she said.  “You guys are going to take a left on this street and work your way northwest.  Be goddamned careful.”

 

*****

 

We moved into the street and stayed alongside the roadway.  There was a small neighborhood of homes nearby, and that’s where we headed.  We needed some supplies that seemed pretty easy to find in most homes – but it might take a few tries.

We reached the street and hit the lawn of the first home.  It had a two car garage, which was promising, and the house looked nice. 

“Come on, Nelson.  Around the side.”

We walked to the side and tried the hinged door to the garage, but it was locked.

“Allow me,” said Nelson.

I remembered.  His Subdudo.  “Go for it,” I said.

One swift kick, and the jamb splintered and we were in.  “Nice boots,” I said.  “Gotta get me a pair.”

“Yeah, dude,” he said.  “Steel toe, but I didn’t use it that time.”

“Headlight,” I said, and we switched them on.  The garage was empty, but on the WAT-5, we didn’t care anyway.  We’d blend right in with 99% of the abnormals.  It was the other 1% that we were concerned about.

“Bingo,” I said, walking up to the bicycles.  One was a an old Huffy beach cruiser, and the other was stingray with mini-ape hanger handlebars.  I shone my light on the tires.  Rotten, cracked.

“No good,” I said.  “Tires are gone.”

“Shit.  Fire extinguisher?” said Nelson, walking toward the door to the house.  Sure enough, one hung there.  He shone the light on the gauge and it showed the stainless steel canister was drained of pressure.  “Good,” he said.  He pulled the tank down and inspected it, and sure enough, he found a fill valve, identical to that on a bicycle tire.

“Got a good Bingo this time,” he said.  “One down.”


Okay, let’s get out of here and into a garage with bikes owned by healthy people.”

It took us three more homes and some tense moments working near the walking dead before we manually raised the garage door and rode out on two fifteen speed mou
ntain bikes, probably from Walmart, with our jury-rigged backpack fire extinguishers on our backs, two empty bottles stuffed with torn tee-shirt strips and a barbeque lighter in each of our pockets.

“Let’s fill these and get changed,” I said.  “We’ve already burned through half an hour.”

Each bicycle had a small bike pump mounted to the crossbar.  Nelson’s was a girl’s bike, but he didn’t care.  We filled the flat tires and were now riding in relative style.  We’d also chosen two nice baseball bats, and had screwed nylon straps at the grip and midway down its length to create a weapon that would sling over our shoulders like a rifle.

“I’m feeling pretty damned good about us right now,” said Nelson.

“So am I, but we need to find them yet.”

“Check the radio,” he said.  I stopped the bike for a second and unclipped it from my waistband.  “Rachel, Serena?  Come in.”

“Hey,” said Serena.  “You on your way yet?”

“No,” I said.  “Almost.  Just have to change now.”

“Yuck.”

“I know.”

“Hurry, and be safe.  Got everything you need?”

“Totally.  Good bikes, bats, extinguisher canisters with fill valves.”

“Don’t blow yourselves up,” she said.

“We won’t, mom,” I said.  “We’ll check in when we can.”

“Smart ass.  I love you,” she said.

“You too, Serena.”

I put the radio away.  At the end of the street we saw a straggler.  The ones we’d seen earlier were in such a condition of half-dress, that they would not serve our purposes.  The one at the end of the street looked to be well-covered.

“Those duds are mine,” said Nelson, standing on the pedals and pumping toward the creature.  When he got there, he dumped the bike, jogged to the abnormal and stood in front of him for a second.

The zombie nudged him lightly with his shoulder as he attempted to walk around Nelson, and just as the rotter passed, Nelson swung his bat, cracking open the backside of the abnormal’s brittle skull.  He spun a half-turn and went down flat on his back.

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