Dead Hunger: The Flex Sheridan Chronicle (35 page)

He clicked the mouse, and two boxes appeared on the screen, an oblong image within each.  The colors within the static-like image shifted and changed.  The one on the left said “Benchmark” above it, and the one on the right said “Subject.”  The left one was multi-colored and evenly spattered with every color, like a smooth, multi colored static.  Constantly shifting, but somehow consistent.

“Wow,” Gem said.

“Yeah, wow,” I echoed. 
“What’s with
Jamie’s side
? 
It’s
like a flat static maroon color.  Almost perfectly still.”

Hemp nodded.  “For now.  But wait until I step in front of it, into its line of sight.  In about fifteen seconds.”

We waited.

“Okay, now,” he said.

But he didn’t need to say anything.  It was as if the brain waves in the subject became intensified and were suddenly channeled
forward
.  The image cond
ensed into a tight, almost flat, compressed group
in the center, and it looked as if the static
pixels were c
oncentrated and pushing in one direction.

Gem pointed at the screen.  “I take it the front of the head is in this direction?”  She pointed to the top of the images.

“Correct,” said Hemp.  When it saw me, the image changed, and the brain waves kicked in, concentrated, as though they were directed at me – the source of its desired nourishment.  Now look at mine
, keeping in mind she was exhibiting some aggressive behavior, sending me a bit into panic mode
.”

We looked at his brain wave image, and noted that many of the colors within it had shifted.  Red was the primary color now, and they were more erratic, like a colony of ants that had just been stomped on.

“That’s fear,” Hemp said.  “Yours might look at bit different,” he said.  “I
prefer the quiet and safety of a lab with all the protective gear, etcetera, so while I’ve killed my share, while unarmed
I still don’t feel comfortable around them, even when
they’re
restrained.”

“I don’t think any of us will get used to it, Hemp,” I said.  “But w
hat does this tell you?”

“It tells me that their focus is singular.  It is for the food, and it’s the only thing that affects their brains this way.  I tried other things.  Some of the
machine guns.
  I
attached them to a steel cart and
rolled them in front of
her, making sure I stayed
out
of her line of vision.  First test in ab
out five more seconds.”

And then t
he image changed.  Hemp’s
EEG readout
had returned to its former pattern
,
having left the
proximity zone that made him nervous
, but
Jamie’s
brainwaves changed entirely. 
Her brain
seemed to
compartmentalize
;
To concentrate into tighter configurations in certain quadrants of
her
brain.

“What the hell does that mean?” Gem said.  She looked alarmed.

“Do they recognize danger?” I asked.

“It seems, to a degree,
that
they sense when they’re confronted with something that could
harm or
kill them.  And I’ve thought back to the situation you explained at your sister’s house, when you first found her.”

“What?” I asked.

“By the pool. 
You said she didn’t
enter the pool.  Well, I checked her as I was re-securing the restraints, and she has a broken left arm.  She’s had it since we brought her here, which means it was probably broken before you even discovered her at the house.”

I nodded. 
She had
possibly
done it during her climb through the window
when she followed Jesse into the back yard
.  When she’d been clawing at the screen,
she’d
primarily used her right arm, and I didn’t give it much thought at the time.

“So you’re saying she sensed the danger her broken bone may cause her – she’d
be
unable to tread water – so she stayed out?  That’s all that kept her from me?”

“The other one came in, you said.”

I was shaking my head in disbelief.  “
Yeah
, but I thought it fell in.  I really didn’t think it intended to come after me.”

“Was it conscious?” Gem asked.  “Or instinctive?  Do you think they have an awareness of their physical condition and capabilities?”

Hemp shrugged.  “Doesn’t really matter.  Whether instinct or awareness, it makes them somewhat logical.  And something that eats flesh and brains that also has any sort of logic is more dangerous. 
That’s
exactly why I wanted to show you this now.”

“Jeez, Hemp.  In just two days we’ve learned they can stockpile and organize to a degree, work together, they recognize external dangers to themselves, recognize their own internal limitations, whether it be injury or a mere lack of ability, and that they have a fucking knockout vapor that can mist out of their eyes.  And besides all that, you’ve showed us conclusively that their brains are not only registering scent, which made sense, but now the sight of us makes them hungry.”

“I’m sorry
for all the grand news,” Hemp said.

I slapped him on the back, and
said
“It’s what you do, Hemp.  It’s why we all gotta st
i
ck together.”

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

Over the
following
week we made several runs out to various hardwa
re s
tores to gather supplies.  In an industrial
lot, w
e found a
brand spanking new
, heavy duty
6’ x
24’
box trailer.  It had wood plank floors riveted down, and was perfect for our needs. 

Everyone worked together on a project for the first ti
me, even T
rina.  She’d haul welding rod as needed, and Gem and I worked to bolt things down, attac
h racks, and carry in stock
.  Charlie used a
hole saw to cut in gun turrets like those in the lab just
in case any of us – or
all
of us – got trapped in there and had to defend it.  Above each turret, which were inserted at various levels to accommodate our varying heights, fisheye peepholes
like the ones
you’d install in your front door
were mounted
.  That way we could use them to get a good view of our attackers.

We found a good deal on
a 3500 watt generator which we mounted on top of the large, flat triangular tongue pad.

Everything was an excellent deal now.  Retailers were practically giving the shit away.

While the gen was necessarily on the outside of the trailer for exhaust purposes, we cut in a locking hatch to access fuel, oil and power switches from inside the trailer.

This was to be our mobile garage.  Hemp had begun designing things in his head – mostly large-scale zombie killing machines.  We needed to have the ability to fabricate these items while we were
on the move
, and the only way to ensure it was to have
a mobile
garage
travelling
with us.

It was nearly as important – Gem thought it might be more important – than the lab.  But with Hemp articulating his needs, Gem’s artistry in putting the design down on paper, and
my
schematic layout abilities, we were a good team.  After the blueprint was done, the plan was that Hemp, with help from all of us, would build them.  Or, if we came across a group that we needed to trade with, these plans for the ACME Zombie Killer III, might get us some good stuff in return.

The first thing we installed were aluminum work benches.  We’d be hauling it with the Suburban, so a turbo might be in order for that vehicle.  Easy enough to install.

The rear work bench was
actually located at the front end of the trailer opposite the doors,
w
as 3’ deep and the width of the
trailer
.  It was
the only of its kind. 
Beneath this table is where we installed the generator access hatch.

There was another 10’ work bench made of
aluminum;
however it was only 2’ deep.  With the portable welder
on its rolling cart
, we’d be able to move it outside to weld any larger
parts
necessary.

On
the interior and exterior of
eac
h side, Hemp manufactured racks that we bolted on
for hauling wood and met
al rods, flat, and angle iron and some
1” and 2” square
metal
tubing.  PVC was plentiful, but not that necessary unless some plumbing work
presented itself
, so we did take a few lengths of that, too.

Per Hemp’s specs, Gem and I brought in the necessities: F
ull Craftsman
mechanics
tool set, check. 
Arc
Welder,
Heliarc Welder,
welding rod
for both
, Acetylene
t
orch cart,
air compressor
.  Power tools of all kinds, including but not limited to
a
scroll saw, table saw, compound
miter
saw, router, drill press, punches, chisels, pretty
much everything we could think of that we
might need
.
  As weight was an issue, we didn’t want to overstock.  We could always toss anything that proved to be unnecessary if weight became an issue.

For cooling, we didn’t want to use too much power, or any at all if it could be avoided.  So for that, Hemp suggested the spinning vents that are typically mounted over the attic of a home.  Wind blows, they spin and draw hot air out through the top.  The normal process would be to work in the trailer with the doors open, but in this world anything could happen.

And we expected it would.  So each spinning exhaust had a sliding hatch beneath it to close it off and prevent our scent from escaping, drawing any zombies
to us
.

Speaking of zombies, t
he machines
we expected to
design
and build
in this garage
were
to be
for
nothing else but killing.

Head trauma-type killing in particular.

Guns were nice, but there were times you needed more automated equipment, set off by much the same kind of tripwire as would set off the forest traps. 

We’d yet to find anything in
our human snares
; that was good.  We all enjoyed the feeling that we were alone out here, and the only time any of us really felt concern was when we found it necessary to head back out to gather supplies.  But we did have our system, and we were beginning to get used to it.

Our encounters with the
walking almost-dead
seemed to be becoming
more frequent.  Many of the creatures who l
umbered into Lula had come from surrounding areas, all of which were also small populations. 
Athens
was fully 38 miles away and
Atlanta
was over 65.

But sure enough, when we went out, we inevitably ran into a group of them,
usually spotting them from a distance because we were on the lookout,
and more often than not, it was a larger group than the last we’d seen.

One evening we got a shout out on the HAM radio.  It was the group we’d left the
Hummer 2 with at the 7-Eleven. 
They’d secured
their own
HAM
radio
as we’d suggested,
and we kept ours on constant scan, so when they made an attempt, we were able to pick them up.

Marion and Bobby were still leading the group
.  They’d gotten one of the buses from the CDC, and
said they’d picked up another twelve
uninfecteds
so far.  Three more of their former group had died, turned immediately to zombies, and had to be dispatched.