Dead Hunger: The Flex Sheridan Chronicle (10 page)

“You can’t stop me
, babe
.  You’ve got Trina to consider and I made it all the way from
Miami
to
Gainesville
on my own.  That’s quite a story, and when we finally do stop and sit and have a nice cup of coffee, I’ll share with you some of the shit I saw and dealt with on my way to find your ass,
including where this innocent little
girl of yours
got this
kickass
gun.
”

She got out and held the door, the rifle slung over her shoulder and the Glock in her other hand.
 
“
So pardon my rant, but if you think you’ve got some advantage on me mentally, I’ll remind you that you don’t.  As for physically, you are nicely built, but pound for po
und, I am quite powerful myself
.”

She
shut the door and before she could walk away I waved at her to open it again.  She did.

“What?”

“You’ll need this.”  I unclipped the walkie from my belt and handed it to her.  Then I unclipped the other one off the visor.  “Won’t do you too much good if I’m talkin’ to myself, will it?”

“Smartass,” she said, slamming the door and throwing
me a sarcastic salute as she headed into the station building
.

I
watched her walk away.  I was worried, but I
smiled.  Damn, I loved that woman.  It was good
to have her back.

*****

She was gone five minutes before I
spoke to her.  “Update, babe.  You in?”

Gem came right on.  The signal was perfect, and she was crystal clear.  “Not yet.  I’ve been keeping against the walls, and the back entrances are all secured.  I’m going around to the front.”

I shook my head.  With each step she was farther away, and the more nervous I got.  I couldn’t lose her again.  “If you get in, then find your way to the back and unlock those doors.  If you get in trouble, I have to get in fast.”

“
When
I get in, babe, I’ll do that.  Want me to stay on, give you live updates?”

“As long as you don’t alert anyone of your presence, sure.  Keep an eye.”

There was silence for the next ten minutes.  I sunk down low in the seat.  The Benadryl had done its job, and Trina was out like a light.  As I scanned the street, I absently stroked her blonde hair, and
found myself saying a
silent prayer for her future.  I included myself and Gem – and threw in the rest of humanity just for good measure.

The radio crackled to life.   “Babe, I’m in.  Remember all the dead people on the front steps?”

“It hasn’t slipped my mind, Gem.”

“They
probably fled from
here.  It looks like a slaughterhouse.  Cops dead everywhere, guns in hand.
  Looks like they got knocked out or something, then they were attacked.  Weird.  Almost like they were gassed, then eaten.
”

“
Really?  I’d expect cops to shoot center mass like they’re trained, but none of this would’ve happened that fast. 
They should
have had time to fire again and try a head shot I’d
think
.”

“I don’t know, Flex,” Gem said.  “Looks like they  just passed out and then got eaten.”

“Jesus,” I said.  “Gem, hurry and get out of there.”

It was quiet for too long.  “Gem,” I said.  “You there?”

“Yeah, Flex.  I am.  I hear some noises coming from the back of the building.  Closer to you.”

“I want you to get this back door unlocked.  Do you think you can find these doors and avoid whoever’s making the noise?”

“I sounds like someone yelling for help,” she said.  “I should help them, Flex.”

“I agree, baby.  But get that door open first.  And when you do
, use your flashlight to signal to me it’s unlocked.  You might need to prop it so it doesn’t auto-lock.
”

Gem knew her shit, so there was no reason for me to worry.  I expect
ed within ten minutes I’d see
the signal flashes, but I kept asking myself how many rounds I’d fired from the Uzi inside the Walgreens.

At 10 rounds per second, you could empty the entire 32 round magazine in 3.2 seconds.  Had I cut down the two zombies at the drugstore in the .2 seconds?  A full half second?  Time flies when you’re firing a sub machine gun.  I had no idea.  I hoped she checked the clip and I hoped it was full when I first saw the gun.  She had the Glock, but I knew she only had limited rounds left in it.  Then it struck me.  She was in a fucking police station.  There would be guns on every downed officer.  I
let out a sigh of relief
.  There it was again.  Blessed relief.

I rolled my window down an inch so I could hear noise from outside.  The a
rea, as far as the eye could see,
was eerily quiet and motionless.  I was glad.  I heard a sudden click.

I looked left at the building, and two quick flashes of light shone from the
doors
.  More relief.  I clicked on.  “Beautiful, baby.  Thanks.  Did you find
out
who was yelling?”

“It’s right around the corner.  I’ve
got the walkie turned way down.  Trina still down?”

“Like a has-bee
n fighter in his comeback bout.  Did you grab any
more guns?”

Despite her being quiet, I heard a low laugh over the radio.  “Do I look like an octopus?  I got a couple Berettas.  It looks clear from here – think you can carry Trina over here real quick and take this stuff from me?”

I looked around.
“Sure.  Hold on.  I reached an
arm beneath the sleeping girl and pulled her onto my chest, her head tucking in beside mine.  I pulled the .38 off the dash and hooked my finger around the handle and opened the door of the
Suburban
.  Closing the door only lightly, I ran toward the building, Trina bouncing in my arms. 

“Probably not the smartest thing we’ve done,” I said.  Give ‘em here.”

She pulled my pants away from my waist and tucked one, then the second gun inside my waistband.  “You’re a regular man of steel,” she said.  “Okay.   You’re loaded for bear.  Get back to the truck.”

I looked at her.  “Sure you don’t want to trade?  You’ve done good, babe.  Let me go finish up?”

“I’ve already got the layout, Flex.  I’ll just –”

“Help!  Help me, somebody help me!
  Can you hear me?”
  The voice echoed through the police building.

“Jesus, Flex!  Get back to the truck!”

“Bullshit,” I said, pushing her inside and p
ulling the door shut behind me.

“Trina is with you, Flex. 
Trina
!”

“Yes, and you’re with me, too.  And you’re protective of this little girl,
and you know as well as I do that
she’ll never be safer than when she’s near you and you’re armed.  So
move
.”

Gem glared at me again, and headed down the brick-lined hallway, painted in a glossy white.  At the end of the hallway there was a door to the left.  She unhooked a key ring from her belt and unlocked it.

“Is that a police belt?”

“A sergeant was wearing it, and he had the key.  Skeleton key.  Opens every door in the place.”

“Damn, you’re good,” I said.  And I meant it.

We hurried through the door and turned left, then right.  There was another steel door with a reinforced glass view hole.  I looked down, and saw two bodies
on the floor about halfway down t
he hallway.  The door at the far end was held ope
n with a chair.  Nobody moved.  “Guess we go in,
huh
?” I said.

Gem nodded and inserted the key, turning it until a metallic click sounded.  She pushed and it opened quietly.

The moment we stepped
through the door,
a voice came from one of the cells.  “Hello?   Is anyone there?”

We stopped short and analyzed the
layout
.  Six cells down on the right,
six on the left.  W
e could see a nos
e sticking through the bars halfway down on the right.
  Then hands waved.  “Hey, down here!  Down here!”

The voice had a British accent.  The hands didn’t look rough, but smooth.  In
Florida
, in June, the arms were covered by long sleeves, folded back at the wrist – about as casual as a long-sleeved shirt wearer who was comfortable in them might get.

“Who are you?” Gem called, as we approached the cell. 

Trina was still out cold, dead weight in my arms, as I held my
.38
pointed at
the body of one of the uniform-clad
officers
on the cell block floor.

“
Chatsworth,” he said.  “Hemphill Chatsworth.”

We stepped into his view, me holding a little girl, sweating up
a storm, and Gem, a hot Latin
woman, also soaked with sweat, hefting an Uzi.  We must have been a sight.

“Hemphill Chatsworth,” said Gem, smiling.  “Now
that’s
a mouthful.”

The man nodded, and even smiled slightly.  “Hemp.  Hemp to people who know me.”

“What are you doing in this cell, Hemp?
” I asked.
 
“
What went wrong in your life
that you ended up in jail?”

“
First off he goes by
Hemp,” Gem said.  “Drug dealer, naturally.”

“No, no,” he said.  “I shut the
cell
door.
  Locked myself in.
  I’m just glad it was open
in the first place
so I could get away from them.”  He bent down and brought up his hand holding a stainless steel .45 Automatic.

I tensed
as
Gem swung her Uzi quickly, pointing it at his head.  “Drop that shit now!”

Hemp did.   He flung the gun to the other side of the cell and it skittered off the concrete floor and into the wall.  “It’s empty!  Empty!” he shouted, cowering.

“Why’d you grab it!” Gem said, her muscles tense as she held the gun on him.

“To show you if I was supposed to be in here I would not have a damned gun!” he said, holding his hands in front of him in a defensive gesture.

Gem’s muscles relaxed.  So did mine.  She looked at me and shrugged.  “Makes sense.”

“I agree,” I said.  “I’m glad this kid’s on Benadryl.  Fuck me.”

Gem lowered the weapon, glanced again at the propped door, then turned back to the  British man in the cage.
 
“Who were you trying to
get away from? 
When was this?”

Gem stepped back and aimed the Uzi toward the open door where the chair lay angled and propped beneath the doorknob.
  Chatsworth must have noticed Gem eyeing the door nervously. 

“
I put that chair there when I ran in.  I was afraid I’d be locked in if it latched, and then this happened. 
I’ve lost track of time, and – Jesus, I forgot I even had a watch on.”  He looked at
his watch.  “
I’ve been in here a
bout an hour now.  These two were coming after me, and I shot them in the leg to start – thought it might deter them – but they didn’t take their eyes off me, and kept coming.  It wasn’t like they saw me – more like they were drawn to me.  I shot one in the chest, and he still kept coming.  Christ, what the devil is happening here?”

“So you figured out the head shot is all
that kills them,” I said.  “Good.  It doesn’t take long.  You take out both of these?”

Hemp nodded.  “Yes, but I only got the one in the head.  The other—”

“Flex, MOVE!”  Gem’s voice was panicked, and she pulled me hard toward her and yanked me against the concrete wall next to Hemp’s cell.  As my back contacted the wall and I dropped my gun to keep from losing my grip on Trina, I saw why.  The
zombie on the cell block floor had begun to move and had pulled itself  toward me until it
s gaping
, gnashing
mouth must have been inches from my
ankle
.  Fucking
inches
.

Gem leapt back and pulled the trigger of the Uzi, holding
it down as at least 25 high velocity rounds separated the zombie’s head from his shoulders and nearly shattered our eardrums, echoing in the brick and steel block.  When it was over, she leaned against the cell, breathing hard, her shoulders heaving. 

I stood there speechless, as did Hemp.  He sat on his knees, staring at her back, and a second later she
turned
and glared
at Hemp.  “
Did
you get the other one in the head?  Are you fucking sure?”