The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (95 page)

“Okay.  Eat your wafer.  We’ll wake you up in a few minutes.”

“Roger,” said Dave.  “It’s that awkward moment when you’ve been dreaming about Serena and wake up to find you’re staring Flex Sheridan in the face.”

“Hilarious,” said Flex.

“He is.  At least I
got
that one,” said Gem.

Flex looked at Hemp.  “Bottom’s up.  These things taste like crap,” he said, popping the quarter-sized wafer in his mouth.

“Shit, Flexy, you could’ve finished your eggs first,” said Gem.  “And this cheese stuff is pretty good,” she added with her mouth full. 

“They’re WAT-5, Flex, not Smarties,” said Hemp, popping his.

“I want Smarties!” said Trina.

“You want everything,” said Charlie.

Flex almost missed the exchange.  His eyes rolled back, and his head bobbed.  Trina ran over to him and held him straight in his chair, but Gem knew Flex had become pretty good at nodding out after eating the wafers and strangely, keeping his balance.

Taylor
watched Hemp, and when his head dropped, she did the same.  Both girls watched the clock on the wall.  Three minutes later, they both nodded at each other.

Taylor
started lightly slapping Hemp in the face as Trina started slapping Flex.

“I love this part,” said Gem to Charlie, smiling.

“I know.  It’s cute, ain’t it?”

The men awoke groggily, then shook off the cobwebs. 

“Man,” said Flex.  “I’ll never get used to that.”

“I keep thinking we’ll eventually become resistant to that part of the process,” said Hemp.  “Not so far, I suppose.”  He looked at Taylor and Trina.  “Did you girls take care of us again?”

The kids nodded.

“Thanks,” said Flex.  “We owe you one.”

“You girls take spray with you.  Just in case,” said Hemp.

Gem didn’t have to ask what he meant.  Urushiol spray.  The zombie melter.  “You know we always have it,” she said.  “But do me a favor and give me a wafer.  I want the girls to take a half each.”

“Good idea,” said Flex.

They’d discovered that in a child under seventy pounds that half a wafer provided the same five-hour protection as a full wafer for an adult.  Body weight was everything.

“We get to be invisible,” sang Trina. 

“I love that.  I hope we get to use it,” said
Taylor.

“Not a good thing to hope for,” said Charlie.  “I want you to have it just in case, but I’m hoping like hell you don’t need it.”

“I wanna need it,” said Trina.  “Then I can shoot ‘em and they won’t see me coming.”

Hemp shook his head, smiling.  “You ready, Flex?”

Flex picked up the last piece of omelet with his fingers and slurped it into his mouth.  “Let’s go,” he said.

“Give mama some sugar,” said Gem, her arms open.

“I’m the one who gets the sugar,” said Flex, going to her, planting a big kiss on her mouth.  “You be extra careful out there now, Gemina.”  He patted her stomach, then her ass.

“You too, Cottonballs,” she said, giving his butt a pat.

“Cottonballs?” said Flex.  “How’s that a comeback?  It’s not even a real name.”

“Neither is Flex, sweetie, but if you call me Gemina, that’s what I’m gonna call you, and I’ll tell everyone it’s your nickname and that the reason is an embarrassing secret.”

“Which will accomplish what?”

“It will accomplish whatever reason people can come up with that you might be nicknamed Cottonballs.  I’ll be happy to let their imaginations do the work.”

“Holy shit you’re demented, baby,” said Flex.  “Guess that’s why I love you.”

“Get a room!” said Trina.

“I’m not sure you know what that means,” said Taylor, cocking her head.  “I’m not sure
I
know what it means.”

Hemp and Charlie laughed and said their good-byes, and the boys kissed Taylor and Trina and headed out.

“Okay, I cooked, you clean,” said Gem. 

“Aww!” said the girls in unison.

“C’mon, dorks,” said Charlie.  “Gem deserves a break.  Sooner we’re done, the sooner you’re tearing up targets.”

*****

Gem drove the Crown Vic, which the girls had washed the day before.  She always disarmed the gun when they did this, because while there wasn’t much chance of it going off, she would be horrified should something go wrong.  Better safe than sorry.

The range, oddly enough, was near the old cemetery.  It was safe there now; the ratz and diggers – what they called the once dead humans who came back as zombies – were, for the most part, wiped out by the urushiol soakings they’d given the cemeteries.

“Locked and loaded?” asked Gem.

“Locked!” said Trina.

“Loaded!” said Taylor.

It was their little thing.

“I wish!” said Charlie.  It was about the loaded part, and it was Charlie’s little thing.  Gem smiled every time.

Lisa sat in the front seat, and Charlie, whose butt wasn’t much bigger than
Taylor’s, sat between the kids in the back seat.

“I want to work on everything today,” said Lisa.  “But I have the most trouble with handguns.”

“They’re harder,” said Gem.  “I had trouble with them in the beginning.  You think you can just point and shoot, but a shambling zombie isn’t as easy to hit as you’d think.”

“It’s all that side-to-side motion,” said Charlie.  “Plus, the short barrel.  If you’re off just a fraction of a degree, your round hits air.”

“I used to need my sight,” said Trina.  “Not anymore.  I point and shoot.  Like a camera.”

“A camera!” said
Taylor.  “Good idea, Trina.  I need to get me a camera so I can take lots of pictures of stuff.”

Gem pulled the car into the dirt area just past the cemetery.  The town line was just a mile to the north, beyond a thick copse of trees.  It was all forested in that area, and there was no chance of a stray round hurting anyone.  She threw the car into park and opened her door.

“We’re going to need more ammo, too.  I hope the boys know that.”

“Try them on the radio,” said Charlie.

Lisa unclipped it off the dashboard.  “Hemp, Flex, you read?”

Static.

They waited a couple of minutes.  Nothing.

“Say it anyway,” said Charlie.  “Sometimes they can hear you but you can’t hear them.  We’re on a hill, so …”

“Get 9mm ammo if you can, guys.  And more .38, too.  We have plenty up here, but there’s not much left back home.”

A motorcycle engine sounded in the distance.  They all turned in time to see a figure dressed in full leathers and a black helmet with a full face shield come into view and stop beside the Ford.

Serena took off her helmet.  “Really?  Nobody woke me up?”

“Dave said you were sleeping when I got up,” said Lisa.  “Sure we would’ve asked you to come.”

“I know,” she said.  “I was sleeping.  But I’m here now, and I’ve got Annie.”

She pulled out the .44 Magnum with a wood stock and shining stainless steel barrel.  “And she’s ready.”

“Got ammo for that?” asked Gem.  “We only brought arrows and nine millimeter.”

Serena tossed her brown curls behind her back, unzipped her body suit at the neck and knelt down beside her pack, which she’d dropped on the ground.  She drew the zipper across the canvas pack to reveal ten or so boxes of .45 rounds. 

“How the hell did you carry that thing?” asked Gem.

Serena shrugged.  “Just toned, I guess.”

“I used to be toned,” said Gem.  “Before this.”  She gestured to her stomach.

“Me, too,” said Charlie.

“You girls are both full of shit,” said Serena.  “I wish I looked like either of you.”

“Enough of the mutual admiration society,” said Lisa, whose body was on the thicker side.  “I’ll puke if I have to hear any more.”

“Fine,” said Gem.  “Let’s set up.”

Trina helped Serena and
Taylor helped Lisa carry and mount the targets on the stands that were permanently installed in the field.  Three on the right side were for crossbow practice, and the four on the left were for firearms. 

Charlie lined up first, her Parker Tornado snapped and loaded.  She sighted it.  Seventy yards.  210 feet.

“Okay, girls.  First shot.  Seventy yards.”  She pulled the trigger, and the arrow arched up then down, hitting the target.

Gem held up her scope.  “Looks like about two inches high.  That could get a girl killed.  Correction?”

“No problem,” said Charlie.  She mounted an arrow, raised the crossbow scope to her eye, and paused.

“Is that a breeze from the west?”

“Yep,” said Serena. 

All the women were in love with the silence of the crossbow and the insane accuracy, including Gem.  She decided she’d work solely with the crossbow for at least an hour.  The girls were bundled up, and just the excitement of being out here when they were supposed to be in school was keeping their adrenaline pumping and their bodies warm.

“Okay, here goes,” said Charlie, almost in a whisper.

She squeezed the trigger, the bow sprung, and the bolt flew at 330 feet per second toward its target.

“I don’t see it,” said Gem.

“That’s because it’s blending in with the fuckin’ bulls eye,” said Charlie.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“My turn,” said Gem.  The Uzi, Queenie, still hung off a clip on her belt.  Just because she was having fun didn’t mean she wouldn’t be prepared. 

It took Gem a fifty-yard distant target and three shots to hit the bulls eye, but the previous two were only three to four inches off.  She was happy. 

“I’ll be within an inch every time by the time we leave today,” she said, winking at Trina.

“You don’t have to kill zombies when they’re that far away anyway, mommy.  You told me if they’re that far away I should always run instead of fight.”

Trina was right.  Gem told her so.

“Lisa, you ready?” asked Charlie.

“Hell yes, I’m ready.  I want to use the AK-47.”

“Great weapon,” said Gem.  “Like the one on my Crown Vic.”

Lisa looked back at the car.  “Hmm.  I didn’t even realize that.  Nice.”

Before long, the four firearm targets were taking shots, and everyone was having a grand old time.

*****

Flex drove his truck, Hemp sat in back, and Dave rode shotgun.  Whit Sanger radioed them to ask if they needed help, but Flex told him he appreciated it, but they had the crew they needed.

Whit was a good guy.  Flex had liked him from the moment he opened his mouth.  They’d met him when they first pulled into Concord.  He’d been guarding the roadblock with Jacko, Dan Cox and some others when Flex’s group had hit the new Concord city limit.  Whit had stood right up to Jacko, who was being foolish and aggressive, and looking to get his ass kicked, Flex Sheridan style. 

Whit’s sharp words likely kept the situation from escalating beyond where it had.  Flex had been road weary and not in the mood for the bullshit that Jacko had been handing out, and Flex had come very close to making a bad first impression – very much like Jacko had.  But he was pretty sure most of the
Concord citizens would’ve understood.

Since that time, Jacko had proved he was valuable and sharp.  Flex and his family actually liked Jacko quite a bit now.

They made it through the roadblock and headed out onto the I-93 south.

“What’s first?” asked Flex. 

“You seem to know,” said Hemp.

“You said you needed a female zombie.”

“I do.”

“Why?” asked Dave.

“It’s just nice to have a woman follow instructions for once,” said Hemp.

Dave looked at him.  Then he laughed.  “Shit, Hemp!  I can never tell when you’re joking!  Must be that damned accent.”

“Gets ‘em every time,” said Hemp, smiling.  “I know where you’re going, Mr. Sheridan.”

“Oh, yeah?  Where.”

“Women’s state prison.”

“Fuckin’ bingo.”

“Why the prison?” asked Dave.

“Because,” said Flex, “They’ve left it alone.  The inmates are mostly in cells, and that prison doesn’t have electronic cell blocks.  All key operated.  Least that’s what Kev said.”

“Ah, so we walk in, inspect the cages, pick our chick, and go.  Sweet plan,” said Dave.

“I’m impressed,” said Hemp.  “When did you work this out?”

“Last night,” said Flex.  “Let my fingers do the walking.  Checked out my coffee table book on Concord.  Oddly enough, there were aerials of the prison and an address.”

“It’s that awkward moment when you’re looking for fun in
Concord, and you end up in prison,” said Dave.

“That one could use some work.”