Dead Hunger II: The Gem Cardoza Chronicle (42 page)

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Authors: Eric A. Shelman

Tags: #zombie apocalypse

BOOK: Dead Hunger II: The Gem Cardoza Chronicle
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“Flex, you stand guard,” I said.  “You need to rest that shoulder so it has time to heal.”

He looked at me, appeared to be considering whether to do what I asked, then nodded.  It was smart.  It wasn’t unlike me to withhold sex if he pissed me off, plus now I could threaten to name the kid Elvin or Lenore. 

They’re just two of the most discontinued names I could come up with at the spur of the moment.

“Charlie, grab your crossbow and keep an eye out, too.  Me and Cyn can take care of these folks.”

“I’m going back inside,” said Flex.  “Charlie, you got this?  I need to check for more survivors.”

“No problem, but take the radio.”

He did.  Cyn and I lif
t
ed the boy
underneath
his arms and dragged him
to the wall of the building, leaning him there.  She took his pulse.

“His heartbeat’s
strong,” she said.  “And his color’s not bad, huh?”

“No,” I said.  “He looks good.  Let’s get the others out of that pile.”

We lifted two more women from the mound, and one-by-one, we got them next to the boy.  Both were easy to move, because like the boy, they were also extremely thin.

“I wonder when they ate last,” I asked.

I wasn’t sure what you called this particular man of God, but he was the preacher to me.  We approached him and dragged him over beside the others.  None of them had awoken, and it was unlikely they would.  We had enough experience with the gas that we knew they wouldn’t be ready to stir for hours yet.

I started to worry about Flex.    After we got two more people against the building, we had a total of seven.
  There had originally been ten, but three were dead.  We didn’t take the time to determine the cause, but worried about the living instead.  We did, however, take the time to put bullets in
the brains of the three.  We’d been down that road and the risk was too great not to.

We were thankful the survivors were unaware of our actions.  They might not realize how seriously tentative death had become.

So as it stood, we had t
he boy, three women, the preacher, and two other men.

There was nobody over what looked to be about fifty years old.  I didn’t want to think of what happened to t
he other, older members of the community or the congregation.

“Flexy,” I said on the radio.  “Where the hell are you?”

“There’s an office
just off the altar, on the right side.  You can’t miss it
.  I’ve got
five
people in here.”

“Are they alive?”

“Yes, and awake.  They’re afraid to come out, though.  Come here, would you?
  Help set their minds at ease?

With Flexy’s bandages, he did look a little rough.  He’d let his goatee grow in much thicker than he’d ever let it before, so he looked like a convict or some other scary dude, so I imagine a woman might set their mind
s
at ease. 

I had exchanged my empty extinguisher for Suzi, who was fully loaded and re
ady for more long range kills.

I went into the church and followed the sound of voices.  Before going inside,
I slung
the Uzi
over my back so it wa
sn’t the first thing these people saw.

When I walked in, there was a woman who was somewhere in her forties, a girl who might have been in her late teens, and
three
men.  One looked like a
hippy punk
, about six feet tall, medium build with
eyebrow and lip piercings and
tattoos ranging from LA Ink to prison quality
running down both arms and protruding from his chest up along his neck. 
He wore a plain white tee shirt and jeans, with a worn, silver studded leather jacket in his lap. 
His
brown
hair was long; down to his mid-back, and his kinky beard was probably five inches off his chin.  I guessed
he
was about 28 years old and probably owned the Indian bike I’d noticed on the side of the church. 
I don’t like to judge anyone by their appearance
,
but in stressful situations I sometimes do.  In this particular case, I immediately
hoped that neither Charlie,
Flex nor I
would need to put
the guy
in his place
, because one thing applied to everyone without exception:
If anything we’re doing isn’t to your liking,
feel
free to fuck off anytime you like.

And then my eyes met his.  In his eyes, which were an intense blue, there was a tired, grateful smile.  I can read people
extremely well
,
just
so long as I’m not dating them.  Honestly.  And I knew with that one held glance that my snap judgment about him had been dead wrong.
  There was a good heart and head in there.

I nodded at him, returned the smile, and continued my scan of our new charges – because no matter how you sliced it, that’s what these people were.

Another of the men had the look of a stereotypical accountant.  He was bald with dark patches of hair on both sides and small, round glasses. 
His skin was pale, and he
trembled like a freaked out
Chihuahua
surrounded by strangers.

The last gentleman was older.  The first one we’d seen.  He was likely in his late sixties or early seventies – which was my first guess – and as thin as the rest.  He had a full head of grey hair, which still managed to be stylish even though it was long and needed a trim.

“Hey, Flex.  Hi, guys.  How you holding up?”

They all mumbled hellos, even managed minuscule smiles.

The
tattooed longhair
held out his hand.  “Name’s Dave.  Dave Gammon.”

I took it and shook it.  “Hi, Dave.  My name’s Gem Cardoza.

Dave was soft spoken and respectful.  His handshake was firm, but not designed to get any point across but hello. 
Time would tell, but I would stick to my modified opinion of him: good guy.

“Pleased to meet you, Gem.”

One by one, the others held out their hands and I met them.  The older woman was Betty Jane Kapla.  The young girl was Lisa Rowe.  The
bald man with the glasses was Jerry Nixon, and the older man, whom I liked immediately, was Todd Babb.

“You can trust us,” said Flex.  “We’ve been from
Georgia
to
Florida
and back, then headed to
Birmingham
,
Alabama
.”

“Until,” I cut in, “We decided it was selfish to hole up anywhere and let the world go to shit.  So we’re heading to somewhere our resident genius, Hemphill Chatsworth, says might be safer, and we’re taking along stragglers if they want to join us.
  It’s time to put the world right again and run the enemy out of town.

“Gem,” said Flex.  “We –”

“We’ll figure it out,” I said.  I turned back to the others.  “We didn’t leave a safe building with an awesome
new
weapon so that we could run around the country leaving people vulnerable.  So I’ll tell you we’re heading to
New Hampshire
, and if you want to come along you’re welcome.”

Flex smiled at me, and I knew he was thinking I had a big fucking mouth.  He also knew there was no sense in arguing with me.  I was the one who earlier didn’t
even
want Cynthia and Taylor along.  Now I was inviting another twelve people
if I was counting right
– all of unknown personality and demeanor – to come along for the ride.

“You’ll have to get vehicles,” he said.  “We can fill them up, but get something reliable. 
Hemp can outfit them with guns later, but if you decide to go with us, you’re bring up the rear, so we can clear out any obstacles before you have to deal with them.  Who’s in?”

“What is the particular appeal of
New Hampshire
?” asked Todd, the older man I’d liked right away.

“Granite,” said Flex.  “
It’s what lies under
Concord

Less porous than most rock.”

“And that’s confusing because you don’t know there’s a gas coming up from inside the earth,” I said.  “Two things to know:  The gas will turn your ass into one of them if you’re not immune to urushiol – don’t ask – and if we go somewhere like that, the uninfecteds might actually outnumber the infecteds.  Or the odds might be better, at least.”

“Urushiol?” asked Dave.  “Isn’t that the poison in mango skins?”

I looked at Flex and he at me.  “Yeah.  Also in poison ivy and other plants.  How did you know that?”

“I’m from
Florida
.  Just rode up to see my kid sister here.”  He touched the shoulder of the young girl, Lisa.  She smiled and threw her hand up in a wave.

“Hi,” she said.  “I brought him here.  It was the only place I could think of to go.  My dad killed my mom, and then Dave had to kill him.”

She broke down into sobs and I handed my gun to Flex and knelt down, pulli
ng her into my arms. 

“It’s okay, Lisa.  We’ve all been through terrible things.  We’ll help you.”

She shuddered in my arms and put hers around my neck, squeezing me tight.  I looked up at Dave and saw the pain on his face.  He mouthed the words ‘thank you’ and I nodded.

“I’d like to join you
folks
,” said Todd
, with a southern drawl
.  “I’ve
got
nowhere else to go, and no family keeping me here.”
  He hesitated, and I swore a shadow passed behind his eyes.  “At least not anymore.”

“You’re welcome
to come along
,” said Flex.

“Thanks,” he said. 

L
et me know anything I can do to help. 
We’re all hungry, but we haven’t had water in two days, since these bastards got here.  So everyone’s dehydrated. 
I’m a doctor, had a family practice. 
When we get a moment I’ll let you know what I do well and what I can’t do to save my life.”

His words almost made me fall over.  It was only Flex in the room with me and I hadn’t told the others about my pregnancy yet, so I wouldn’t be sharing it with these folks, either. 


That’s great news
, Todd.  A big relief, really,” I said.  “
Now
will you guys come outside with us?  All the infecteds are dead, we promise
.  I’m sure
our friends
are worrying a bit.”

The radio crackled.  “Gem, you alright?”

“Told you,” I said to the others.  “Yeah, Charlie.  Got five more we’re bring
ing
out.  They’re awake for a change.”


That’s great, Gem
,” said Charlie.  “See you in a minute.  Out.”

I held the young girl’s hands and smiled.  “
How old are you, Lisa?”

“Eighteen.  Welcome to fucking adulthood.”

“You
got that shit right,” I said.  “
Ready
to get out of here and get some food and water in you
?”


Oh, yes,” she said.  “
But I’d give all that up just to  l
eave this horrible place.”

“Baby sis, we’re gonna put this behind us,” said Dave.  “We’re gonna be fine.”

She stood up and hugged him tight.  “I don’t blame you,” she
whispered
.

“I had to do it,”
he said
.

“I know,” she whispered.  “I love you.”

So the tattooed man was Lisa’s big brother.  Good.  My initial impression was they were very close, and you can’t beat having someone to talk to in this fucked up world.

“Flexy, lead the way.”

 

*****

 

We took the side aisle
out to avoid the major slippery spots, and the first thing
we did was get water for all of
our new friends who were awake to drink it

After introductions all around, including Trina and Taylor, w
e put them in the mobile lab with
Bunsen and
the puppies, and she
and her kids
showed
our guests
some unconditional affection.  There was
nothing like puppy therapy for zombie-stricken hearts and souls. 

A thought hit me as I watched
the
licks
go
all around
, creating smiles where there had been terror just minutes before: 
Chicken Soup for the Zombie-Shattered Soul
would be a nice addition to the
book
series, and would no doubt go to number one on the New York Times Bestseller List,
if there were a fucking New York Times,
but I suppose it
would be up to us to write it.

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