Dead Hunger: The Flex Sheridan Chronicle (13 page)

Gem answered. 
“
Well, a couple of things first.  He’s a she, and you s
aved
her
,
Flex
.  Damned zombie was –
sorry,
I mean
abnormal
–
was trying to eat
her
for breakfast.”

Cobwebs still abounded in my head.  “Shit,
that
was the rug?  I didn’t know what I was seeing!  I thought the guy was freaking out, trying to bury himself under a big fur rug or something.  When I grabbed his legs, it felt wrong, but . . . fucknuts!”

“Fucknuts?” Hemp said, amused.  “This is what you come up with after almost being partially eaten?”

Gem looked at Hemp and smiled.  “It’s an inside joke.  It’s a pretty universal exclamation, actually.”

“The thing was gnawing on this big girl’s leg, and she was taking off a good portion of his face,” Hemp said.

“And you were letting her lick me?  What if she’s infected?”

Hemp might as well have called me a moron.  His face went absolutely sarcastic, and the only thing he left out was rolling his eyes.  “Flex.  We’ve driven across north
Florida
and did you see one zombie – shit – abnormal dog?  Did you see any dogs feasting on human flesh the entire way?  This tells me – and
granted,
I’m only a scientist who specializes in epidemics – that it doesn’t spread to dogs.   Perhaps other animals, but not
canines
.  You’ll be fine.”

I sat up and stretched out my arms.  “How’s Trina?”

Gem held out her hand to me and I took it.  “She’s great.  I fed her a few handfuls of Cheerios and some of the fruit rollups you got.  Then I gave her a Benadryl, and she’s back out.”

“Did she see any of –”

“No,” Gem said.  I rolled up a blanket in the
side
window put the sunshade in the windshield.  She
’s okay.  And I want to take this girl with us, too.”

“What the hell is it?”  I stared at the dog.  “She’s
big,
and fat as hell.”

Hemp laughed.  “She’s a Great Pyrenees, and she’s pregnant.”

I brushed off my pants and looked from Hemp to Gem to the giant
blood
red and white
cotton ball
looking up at me, panting and smiling.  “Well, if we aren’t turning into one big fucking happy family.”

“I’ll drive,” Gem said.  “You look like you could use a can of chili and a nap.”

I didn’t argue.

CHAPTER SIX

We made it to the CDC in
Atlanta
well into the morning.  Our encounters with others, either alive or otherwise, was limited.  Nothing seemed to make sense.  Visible people on the streets were almost non-existent, aside from the abnormals – it was as though the survivors were holing up somewhere, avoiding the creatures that seemed to have only one purpose.

The guard gate at the entrance to the Center for Disease Control complex of buildings was far more fortified than the flimsy bar
we’d breached
to enter the parking lot at the police building back in
Tallahassee
.  As we approached the barrier and small building, we saw a man inside, slumped over his keyboard, the back of his head and neck raw meat
and being worried by a swarm of flies
.  Hemp and I got out of the truck and cautiously approached the open door.  One of the abnormals was on the ground with a hole in the back of its skull, apparently
caught in the act of feasting on the guard.

“Wonder if the head shot was lucky, or from experience,” Hemp pondered. 

“Bothers me that the radio is dark now,” I said.  It had been nothing but static and canned music from automated stations for the last two hours.  “That means that as far as these
radio
towers can transmit, life has changed.”

A sound came in the distance. 
A high-pitched, yet deep shriek.

“What the fuck is that?” I asked, and Hemp answered, the engineer that he was.

“
Airliner!” he shouted.

It grew louder and louder
as
Hemp and I turned an
d looked all around us.  The deep, rumbling
sound became ear-shattering, a deafening roar.  We instinctively ducked down and ran back to the truck
, our knees bent and our
eyes scanning the sky
.  Over the horizon
from behind the gate entrance,
an enormous
Japan
Air
passenger plane came into view, no higher than half a mile off the ground
, losing altitude fast
.  The trajectory had it coming right over
the top of
us, but we had no idea how fast it was dropping.

“What the fuck?” yelled Gem through the open window.  She had no view
of the sky
from inside the Suburban, but turned in her seat and saw the plane
looming larger
than
life
through the rear window,
and
heading
straight
for
the truck
.

“Jesus Christ!”
she cried, and i
nstinctively threw herself over Trina
as
they both
tucked
down, pressing their bodies
into
the
seat
.  The
enormous
Boeing 777,
now
no more than
five hundred
feet
above
,
thundered
directly overhead
,
beginning
to angle sharply to the left.
  The left wing cut through the top of the guard building we were just in, and it shattered into a million pieces
that blew into the sky, mostly
following
the trajectory of the plane itself.

Hitting the guard building did nothing to the plane’s momentum or angle, insignificant as it was in size and construction. 
Hemp and I had
dropped
down
onto our stomachs
beside the truck, our necks craned as we watched the plane
rocket
overhead
slanting
to a greater and greater degree. 
The
whooshing
jet blast kicked a torrent of dust and gravel up into our faces, sandblasting the truck, and nearly blowing us beneath
it
, even as it rocked the entire
vehicle
on its suspension. 
Then,
within
an eighth mile
, the
tip of the huge
wing
punched
into the
paved
drive ahead
, sending
chunks of asphalt as big as
Volkswagens flying
into the air. 

The huge
plane
with its nearly 200 foot wingspan
cartwheeled three times before exploding in a ball of flame and
searing
heat that blasted our dazed faces even from that distance.
  Its speed ensured forward momentum, though, and it eventually slammed into the
solid concrete
CDC building identified
with a large sign
as
Building
#1.  The walls collapsed into a fiery mishmash of
stone
, metal and bodies as the aircraft finally came to rest, now unrecognizable in its
complete
destruction.

Hemp and I shook off the dust and dirt as we slowly got to our feet, unable to take our eyes off the devastation.  Then I thought of the girls.

“Holy shit,” I said, pulling open the door of the SUV.  “You guys okay?”

“Had to happen,” Gem said.  “Pilots aren’t immune, are they?”

“He was probably headed to land
at Hartsfield-Jackson
,” said Hemp.  “Didn’t quite make it.”

We all knew, but didn’t really discuss the fact that there was more than one possibility.  Either the pilot had become infected or the co-pilot had metamorphosed and had attacked him.  The other scenario is that while the flight attendants were accessing the cockpit, multip
le passengers overtook him or her, and all hell ensued.

“Well, we can scratch that building off our list,” I said.

“Not too big a deal,” said Hemp.  “It’s mostly administrative.  “I mean, it would not be where people would go if there was an outbreak of some kind.  The buildings with secure
airtight bunkers are deeper within
the complex.”

“Did you spend a lot of time here?” Gem asked.

“Absolutely.  I did quite a bit of work here during the swine flu scare, as well as some pretty intense research on some other viruses that were never shared with the public.”

“Doesn’t keeping epidemics from the public defeat the purpose of the CDC?
” I asked.  “
Aren’t they supposed to tell the public how to avoid contracting
diseases and viruses
?”

Hemp looked somber.  “Flex, there was no preventing the ones I’m referring to.  It only would have served to send people into a panic.  But that said, the one that seems to have gained a footing
– this one –
is more devastating than any I saw.  If not for us, I’d call this one a world-ender.”

“If not for us?”

Gem interjected.  “I think
Hemp
mean
s that with us alive
and uninfected, there’s a chance this thing
runs its course.  People like us will be left to repopulate and rebuild.”

“It remains to be seen how long these people last once they’ve become infected.  I won’t know anything until I’m able to study some of them; learn about their new physiology, heart, lungs, brains, motor skills, communication skills, if any.”

I shook my head.  “I don’t think there are any communication skills.  Just body language, and that’s always the same.  I’m hungry, and you’re food.”

Gem
smiled
at me.  “Flexy, was that a joke?”

“Fuck, don’t I wish,” I said.  “Let’s get through this barrier and past that mess and see what we find in these other buildings.  Hemp, lead the way, brother.”

“First things first,” he said.  He walked over to the automatic barrier and analyzed it for a moment.  Then he removed a plastic cover, pulled a lever, and the gate unlatched.  A moment later he was rolling it open.

“You
are
an engineer,” Gem said.

It had
taken him under sixty seconds.

“Yes, I am,” he said, smiling. 

The heat from the
blazing
aircraft could be felt through the side windows of the Suburban as we
drove past the tangled wreckage.   There were torsos, trunks, arms, legs, and various other unidentifiable body parts strewn
among the seats, metal and burning plastic chunks
.  We had to skirt over a hundred and fifty feet to the left just to get the Suburban past the debris.

“That was close,” Gem said, hugging Trina to her side.  “You okay, baby?”

Trina looked up at her and nodded.  “Yeah.  But I’m hungry.”

“We’ll get some food when we stop.  Want more Cheerios?”

“I guess.  Do we have any milk and sugar?”

“I’m afraid not, sweetie.  Maybe Gemmy will stop and get us some.  It might not be that cold, though.”

“Okay,” Trina said.

I was a bit worried about
her.  She seemed to be in shock. 
I was no expert, but wouldn’t be surprised.  I was even happier to have Gem with her.  Trin
a
loved Gem.

“Pull up here, to Building #3,” Hemp said.  “If their emergency systems are up, then they’ve got cameras and
should
be able to see us at the entry.  There are two large
bunkers beneath this building, with
storage garage
s
, and laboratories
are on the upper levels
.  We should be able to achieve whatever we might expect right here.”

“And what do we expect?” I asked.  “I don’t think I really had any idea.  Just seemed like the place to go.”

“Equipment, maybe some explanations, too.  If anybody here is still . . . well, human.”  Hemp shrugged.  “And you’re right.  It’s our best bet.”