The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (107 page)

Flex let the steering wheel slide between his hands, straightening out the Chevy, and  drove with reckless abandon toward the small crowd of dead walkers surrounding the green truck.

“I can’t shoot,” said Flex.  “Fuckers are pressed up against it.”

Dave held up the binoculars.  “I can’t tell if anyone’s inside, Flex,” he said.  “But they’re not packed around there for nothing.”

“No,” said Flex.  “There’s something in there they want, that’s for sure.  I have an idea.”

Flex could drive.  He knew that.  But he had to be careful, or he could do more damage than good.

“Pull in that side mirror, Dave.  Just pull it in flat to the truck.”

Dave unrolled the window and flipped the mirror back.  “What are you thinking?”

“You’ll see,” said Flex.  “Hang on.”

Dave rolled the window back up and put on his seat belt.  Lisa did the same.

Flex floored the engine and drove toward the crowd of ten or so zombies.  Some glanced up just before impact, and others were so intent on the interior of Whit’s truck that they paid him no attention whatsoever.

Flex’s truck slammed into their bodies, piling two against the four, and ripping their smashed, deteriorated frames into pieces as first the edge of the cow catcher caught their legs, and the side of the Chevy mashed them against the Suburban as they rolled by.  Five of them flew off of their shuffling feet into the air, landing several feet away.

Flex cranked the wheel sharply left, hit the brake and threw it into park.

“Same thing, Lisa.  If you shoot, don’t hit us!” shouted Flex.

The two men jumped out of the truck, guns at ready.  Dave ran around to the side not cleared by the sideswipe, and fired alongside the truck, taking five more down who had been clawing at the window.  He then pulled his urushiol bottle from his belt and ran forward, spraying for all he was worth.

“Save that shit for the ratz, Dave,” said Flex, firing his Glock into the heads of the downed zombies, all struggling to get back on their feet, but hindered by shattered hips, snapped legs and broken backs.

Flex took great pleasure in knowing they never stood a chance.

“They’re inside!” shouted Dave.  “But they’re not moving!”

Flex watched as Dave fired six more times, sending the creatures to either their final hell, or to salvation.  Flex didn’t know which one, and he didn’t particularly care. 

Flex and Dave tried the doors.  All locked.  Before Flex could act, Dave used the butt of the Walther to smash the rear, passenger side window.  Whit slumped against the steering wheel, and Serena lay equally limp in the front passenger seat, her head against the side window.

Dave reached in and hit the power button, unlocking all the doors.

Simultaneously, Flex and Dave eased open the front doors and began examining Whit and Serena for injuries.  They appeared to be asleep.

Flex turned to give the watching Lisa a thumbs up sign.  He saw instant relief on her face.

Dave took Serena by the shoulders and shook her gently.  Flex did the same with Whit.  It took nearly thirty seconds for either to react, but eventually, they moaned, their voices groggy.

“Jesus,” said Dave.  “Serena, are you okay?  Whit?”

Both tried to focus on them.  Serena said, “What happened?  Dave?”

Dave leaned in and hugged her, and her arms moved around his neck. 

“Thank you,” she whispered.  “We were in trouble, weren’t we?”

“Damn,” said Whit.  “We took the wafers.  Thought we had time, but I guess we’d expired.”

“No, you didn’t expire, but you sure as hell must’ve exceeded your time limit.  You gotta be more careful, Whit,” said Flex.

“Pardon my French, but we had other shit on our minds,” said Whit.  “Like where Lisa is.  Did you find her?”

“She’s in the truck,” said Dave.

“Thank God,’ said Serena, relief washing over her face.  “I was so scared for her.”

“You and me both,” said Dave. “But I was pretty scared for you, too.”

Flex watched as her eyes met Dave’s and she gave him a grateful smile.

“Did you see what happened to Jacko?” asked Whit.

“We saw,” said Flex.  “It’s not good.  No time to chat right now.  We haven’t seen any ratz yet, and I don’t know where they all are, but first things first.  We need to get you guys home.”

“State house isn’t safe,” said Dave.  “I don’t know where Kev is right now, either.  You come to our place.”

“No argument,” said Whit.  “Thanks for saving our asses.”

“This thing drivable?” asked Flex.

“No problem,” said Whit.  “Like I said, we stopped to replenish our WAT-5 and I guess we were too late.  Went out like a light.”

“If there’s ever a doubt, you take it one at a time,” Flex said.  “That way you wake each other up.”

“Let’s go,” said Whit.

“Want to ride with me?” asked Dave.

“You know I do,” said Serena.  “But I don’t want to leave Whit alone.  It’s been quite a day.”

“Then I’ll ride with you guys,” said Dave.  “Flex, we’ll follow you back to the house.”

Serena smiled, and Dave swiped as much of the shattered, tempered glass from the seat as best he could and climbed into the back.

Whit started the engine.  “I’m low on fuel, but I’ll get there.”

“Okay, you’re gonna have to back out, Whit,” Flex said.  “There was quite a zombie party going on outside your truck when we got to you, so you’re only clear in the rear.”

“At least it wasn’t a buffet,” said Whit.  “Thanks to you boys.”

Flex slapped the door twice and returned to his truck.  He drove it around and checked his mirror to make sure Whit was safely behind him.

Lisa had climbed into the seat beside him.  He nodded to her and said, “It’s real good to see you sitting here, Lisa.  Your brother wasn’t about to give up on you, and neither was I.”

Tears erupted from Lisa’s eyes and she reached over and squeezed Flex’s hand.  He had to struggle to keep his composure all the way back.

*****

Chapter Seven

The radio crackled, and Flex’s voice came on.  Gem ran to the table and snatched it up.

“Flex!” she shouted.  “Baby, are you alright?”

“We’re on the way.  We have Lisa, Serena and Whit with us.  Where are Trina and Taylor?”

“In the kitchen,” she said.  “Flex, what went on out there?”

“Can the girls hear us?”

“No.”

“Jacko’s dead, Gem.  Zombies.”

Gem’s heart sank.  She had known very well how Flex once felt about Jacko, but that was in the past.  The man had proved to be a dedicated killer of zombies and a pretty smart strategist besides.

“God, Flex.  I’m sorry.”

“So am I.  Particularly at the way he died.  I don’t know how many of the fucks he took out, but there was a ton of dead ones around him.”

“Good for him, then.  He would’ve wanted to go out that way.   How far out are you?”

“We’re pulling into the driveway now, babe.  Do a quick scan for ratz and open the door.”

“Aren’t you all on WAT-5?”

“Shit.  Yes, we are.  Never mind.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m not and I’m pregnant.”

Gem heard a horn honk.

“I hear you.  Get in here.”

A few seconds later the front door opened.  A rat meandered in as Dave helped Lisa inside, and Gem ran for a bottle of urushiol.  The zombie ratz weren’t as fast as unaffected versions, but if they got away from you, finding them was almost as tough.

Unless they found you.

She kept her eye on it and ran across the living room.  The creature suddenly stopped, stood on its hind legs, it’s fur riddled with patches and mats, and dropped.  She didn’t have to chase it.  It was coming toward her.

“Perfect, you little bastard.  Save me a trip.”

As it approached, as brain dead is its human counterparts, she doused it and watched the pop-melt-hiss show conclude. 

“I’ll get that,” said Dave.  “You don’t need to be cleaning up that crap.”

Gem smiled at him and held open her arms.  Dave gave her a quick hug, then went into the kitchen for a wad of paper towels, which he used effectively to clean away the muck and bones.

“How long can we do this, Flex?” she asked.

“I don’t know how long we can do it, babe, but they’re gonna keep coming, I guess.  Where’s Hemp?”

“In the lab with Charlie.  They’ve been out there for hours.”

“The mobile?  Outside?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he doing?”

“They’re working on the freakazoid from the prison and the one in the red dress.”

“Anyone check on ‘em?”

“I haven’t, and I’ve been alone, so … no.”

“They been in radio contact?”

Gem was getting concerned.  “I’ve been hanging with the girls.  They both took WAT-5 before they went out, so they’re good.  But you’re right.  They usually check in.”

“Channel 19, right?”

Gem nodded.  “Either that or 16.”

Flex hit the button on his radio.  “Hemp.  Come in.  Charlie?  We’re back.”

Flex had started for the door after forty-five seconds, when the radio hissed and Charlie’s voice came through the speaker.

“Flex, it’s Charlie.”

“You guys alright in there?”

“Depends on what you mean by alright.”

Gem got a strange feeling.  Charlie’s voice didn’t sound quite right.

“What’s wrong, Flex.  Ask her.”

“Gem wants me to ask you what’s wrong,” said Flex.

“We’ll come in.  We need a sit down.  On the bright side, we’ve made a new discovery.  On the dark side, it’s pretty fuckin’ crappy news.”

“And we need more of that,” said Whit.  “Like a damned hole in the head.”

“Again, a euphemism that should be retired,” said Lisa.  “Kind of like Dave’s awkward moment jokes.”

Dave rolled his eyes.  “Damn, it’s that awkward moment when – ”

“Shut up, Davey,” said Lisa.

Dave just smiled and obeyed.  Ten minutes later, Hemp and Charlie came inside.

Hemp’s face was dead serious.

*****

“Let’s everyone sit down in the living room.  I’d like the girls upstairs, please,” said Hemp.

“I’ll hustle them up there,” said Charlie.

She went into the kitchen and rousted the girls from a game of Uno.  “C’mon, you guys.  We need some adult conversation time.”

“Really?” said Trina.  “We can say fucknuts, but we can’t listen?”

They stood in the living room, and Trina was giving Flex her lovey eyes, as Gem liked to call them.  She put the sweetness on and batted her eyelashes like she’d been doing it for years.

“Give me a hug you guys, and go up,” said Flex, opening his arms. 

“You’re a rotten egg!” shouted Trina, and made it into his arms in seconds. 

“You’re rottener!” said Taylor, ducking down and coming up inside the hug. 

“Good one,” said Charlie.  “Now let’s go.  One more squeeze.”

They got it, and ran for the stairs.  Charlie watched them go up.  “Close the door, now.”

“It’s that serious?”

“Maybe,” said Charlie.

“I’m listening through the air vents like that old movie I saw,” said
Taylor.

“Good luck,” said Charlie. 

“Hmmph!” said Taylor, and closed the door.

Charlie looked down at her belly.  “Am I really sure?”

“Ups and downs,” said Gem.  “I guess.  Okay, Hemp.  Whatcha got?”

“Before you start,” said Flex, “I’ve got bad news.  Jacko’s dead.”

Hemp shook his head.  “He was a lot better man than we thought at first,” he said.

“He’s the one who remembered the partial tail number on that chopper they kidnapped you in,” said Dave.  “If not for him, we might still be looking for you.”

Hemp took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.

“We’re going to have a lot of people to mourn before the world is fixed,” said Charlie.  “If it ever is.”

“What the fuck is wrong with everyone?” asked Gem.  “Really?  Do we have time for head hanging and gloom?  Would Jacko or anybody else we’ve lost, for that matter, want this?  Hemp, what about Max?  No.  The answer is hell no.  So tell us what you have to, and we’ll suck it up and deal with it like we always do.”

Hemp leaned forward, his fingers intertwined in front of him.  He twiddled this thumbs and chewed the inside of his lip, then looked up at them.

“Flex, Gem?  You guys remember the zombies at the church in Alabama?”

“I remember a lot of zombies,” said Flex.  “Any one in particular?”

“Inside.  The last ones we killed.”

“Yeah.  We got them with the urushiol.”

“Which brings me quickly to my point,” said Hemp.

“What point?” asked Dave.

“That same blend – that same urushiol – might not work on all of those zombies today.  These few months later.”

Now everyone’s face grew serious.  Gem leaned forward.  “What the hell, Hemp?”

He shook his head.  “I’ve got a brain outside that has actually grown.  Not in all areas.  Some of it is dead tissue, but the parts I wish were dead aren’t.”

“Okay, this is really fuckin’ Greek to me,” said Flex.  “Hemp, you’re a straight shooter, so start aimin’, friend.”

“I suspect that both of the females we have in the lab were pregnant when the gas started.  I didn’t notice on either of them because their clothes were so stretched out and filthy.  We cut them off Blue Eyes, and she’s pregnant.”

Dave stood up and stared.  “Pregnant with a zombie baby?”

Hemp nodded. 

“Is it . . . going to be born?” he asked, incredulous.

Hemp shook his head.  “No, no.  It’s in there, and it’s alive, but it’s got no incentive to get out.”

“And what the hell might that incentive be?” asked Whit.

“I’m going to be blunt.  The incentive is food, Whit.  A live host.  Like Jennifer.  She was alive and the child tore its way out as it ate her from the inside.  It craved flesh, and could not resist that with which it was surrounded.”

Gem felt her face flushing white.  She steadied herself on the edge of the couch and teetered.

“Gem!” said Flex, jumping up to come to her aid.  He sat beside her and leaned her back against the cushion.  “You okay, baby?”

“Not so much.  For fuck’s sake, I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again.”

“I’m sorry Gem,” said Hemp.  “I think sometimes I become so wrapped up in the science and logic of things that I forget others may see these things as insurmountable and just plain frightening.  This is merely a condition, Gem.  It has nothing to do with us, at least not directly.  It’s not something that has any bearing whatsoever on you and Charlie and the fetuses you carry inside you.”

Gem tried to exhale, but found that her lungs craved air.  She began to hyperventilate.

“Someone get me a paper bag from the kitchen,” said Flex.

“I’m on it,” said Dave, up on his feet and running.  He was back in under ten seconds with the lunch sack.  He pushed it open with his hands and gave it to Gem.

“Breathe into that until this passes,” said Hemp.

She did.  Trying to slow her breath, her heart.

“Are you sure you want to stay here for this?  Charlie was out there with me, so I was able to explain it as we went.”

“Gem,” said Charlie, “it’s not that your pregnancy can be affected.  It’s why they have these other abilities.  That’s all.  It’s an explanation.”

Gem pulled the paper bag away from her mouth, swiped at her eyes with one arm, and tried not to look freaked out.  “What … extra abilities?”

Now Hemp took a deep breath.  “I think I went about this backwards.  I should have explained that first.”

“We’re all ears, professor,” said Flex, his eyes intense.  “Guess I picked a bad time to quit smoking.”

“You didn’t quit,” smiled Gem.

“Gotcha,” said Flex, smiling.  “Relax, baby.  We’re all okay here.  Go ahead, Hemp.”

“I’ve told all of you at one point or another – and some of you have seen it for yourselves – that some of these zombies seem to have the ability to strategize.  To organize to a degree.  War-like, attack strategies.  We see signs of it in all of them with the inherent knowledge of their own offensive mechanism – the tear duct vapor.  They use it when hungry and going after prey.”

“So what’s new about these pregnant zombies?” asked Lisa.

“I’m working my way there,” said Hemp.  “I want to be careful to explain this properly.”

He paused and looked beyond everyone for a moment, arranging his thoughts. 

“Let me use an example.  Just like a cheetah will use its speed when hunting.  It knows it has it in reserve, so can afford to toy with its prey in certain circumstances.  Likewise, the instinctive, defensive abilities of the porcupine and skunk.  They’re never taught, yet they know how to throw their quills, in the case of the porcupine, and how to spray when threatened, in the case of the skunk.”

Gem lowered the bag and sat listening, mesmerized.  Hemp was more serious than she had seen him since they were at the CDC right after all this crap started.

“So,” Hemp continued, “what I’m getting at is this.  The females are getting smarter.  Their brains are transforming.  I can’t explain it other than to say it’s likely related to Estradiol or some other form of estrogen.”

“Fucking estrogen is a pain in the ass!” said Gem.

“Let me finish, Gem,” said Hemp.  “I know it’s frustrating, but there’s nothing we can do about it but be aware and choose our weapons more carefully.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Dave.  “Bullets and urushiol, right?”

“With these, bullets,” said Hemp.

Lisa started crying.  Dave quickly moved to her side and put and arm around her.

“The urushiol is becoming less effective on these females,” said Hemp.  “Let me explain the science behind it, and maybe someone can come up with a reason I’m wrong.”

Whit shook his head.  “Yeah.  And I’m a monkey’s uncle.”

“Technically, the monkey is
your
uncle,” said Hemp, smiling. 

Whit looked confused.

“An attempt at levity,” said Hemp.

“Fuck levity,” said Flex.  “Go on, professor.”

“Okay.  During pregnancy – and many other cycles in a female’s life – there are times of greatly increased estrogen production.  And there are different types of estrogen.  Estriol is the primary estrogen produced by the placenta.  To use an analogy, that our John Wayne type here might use, and one that I read in a medical journal some time ago, the placenta is an organ that churns out estrogen faster than a multiplex pops popcorn.”