The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (134 page)

But did the sheer number of people crammed into this bar in a last ditch effort to stay alive outweigh their own need to protect just those that meant the most to them?

Flex didn’t need long to think about it.

“You’re fuckin’ A right.  I can jam like seven in my truck, plus whoever wants to ride under the bed cover.  Maybe two or three more.  You can take five, easy.”

“Trina, Taylor, Me, Charlie, you, Hemp, Dave and Serena.  Who else?”

“Nelson’s a good kid,” he said.  “Him, too.”

“That’s nine.”

“Think Hemp and Charlie will have a problem with it?” asked Gem.

“She may have someone else she wants to bring with,” said Flex.  “But for now, nine it is, if they’ll go.”

“It’ll have to do,” said Gem.  “I guess we need to let everyone know we’re going, and suggest they all make a quick plan of their own, too.  I don’t see any reason on earth they should sit around waiting to die.”

“If nothing else, what we just did gives us a little more time to organize.  Not much more.”

“I’ll run out to the car and check the trunk.  Hey, Flex.”

“Yeah?”

“Think Doc Scofield would go with us?”  She looked down at her stomach, then back into Flex’s eyes.

“Gem, I don’t see many folks staying.  I only didn’t mention him earlier because if everyone else stays, I’d think he would insist on staying where the majority of people might need a doctor.”

“You cool with delivering a baby?”

“I’ll talk to Jim.  He could be a big help to Hemp, too, with his medical background.”

*****

Hemp looked at the female on the table and turned to Flex and Scofield.  “I’ve got enough, I think.  Let’s get her into the hyperbaric chamber.”

“We gotta handle her again?” asked Scofield.  “She’s like a fuckin’ cat on a leash.”

“Duct tape,” said Hemp.  “What you Americans call the all-purpose tool.”

“That’s WD-40, I think,” said Flex.  “But it’s high on the list.  When we get her in there, I have to talk to you, Hemp.  You too, Doc.”

The men worked to strap the blonde rotter’s ankles together, and because they couldn’t secure her arms before moving her, they taped her hands up until her deteriorated fingernails were completely covered and her fingers immobilized.

As they began to lift her, Reeves walked over to assist.  Together, the four men easily transferred her from the gurney to the chamber table.  She did not use her vapor.  Hemp believed this was because she was aware on whom it had an effect, and it was not the males of their species.

Hemp slid the table into the chamber and opened the valves.

“There.  What we have time to learn, we shall learn,” said Hemp.  “I suppose Corn Silk’s head is going to go to waste.  No time for anything but a quick cut and a look-see.”  He sighed, his eyes on the grocery bag on the countertop, containing the female’s head.  “Okay, Flex.  What’s going on?”

He lowered his voice.  “Hemp, we’re buggin’ out of here.  Quick.  We only have room for a few tag-a-longs, though.”

Reeves looked troubled.  “I’m assuming I’m not on that list.”

Flex’s face took on a pained look.  “Kev, brother.  You’ve done a lot for us since we got here.  Things have changed, and I’d guess in less than an hour, this place is gonna be overrun.”

“Well if we can’t ride, we walk,” said Kev.  “We’ve got some vehicles available to us in the lot.  Not many – not enough.”

“How soon do we have to leave, Flex?” asked Hemp.  He was hoping to learn something from the dead blonde woman in the hyperbaric chamber.  If she succumbed as quickly as Blue Eyes, he may yet have enough time.

No sooner had the thought left him, they heard a scream from beyond the door.

“Dying!”

“What was that?” asked Flex.  “Who was that?”

Hemp turned to the zombie.  She lay still, her throat reverberating fast, her mouth opening and closing like a fish dying in the sand.

“It’s her,” said Hemp.  “And that was Rebecca’s voice.”

“Holy shit,” said Scofield, running for the door.  When he opened it, Hemp saw Rebecca standing a dozen feet down the hall, staring at the ceiling, her mouth open, her arms stiff down by her sides.

“Dying!” she shouted again.

The crowd around her clamored to get away from her, pushing to get into the main bar.  Charlie, unlike the others, ran up to Rebecca and took her by the shoulders.

Rebecca was sobbing.

“It’s okay, Rebecca, you’re not dying.”

Hemp moved down the hall.  “Not her, Charlie.  It’s my subject on the table.  They’re her words, not Rebecca’s.”

“Holy fuck, babe,” said Charlie, peering into the lab.  “What are you doing to her?”

“Killing her, I believe,” he said.  “At least if she’s being honest.  Charlie, move her away from here.  I’m not sure why she was this close to begin with.”

“She knows,” said Charlie, “But she doesn’t listen very fucking well.  Gem and I both told her to keep her distance from the lab a bunch of times.”

“Dying …” she said again, this time softer.  Charlie began leading her down the hall, and as before, the crowd parted like the Red Sea.

Gem ran in from the bar, breathing hard, stopping Charlie in her tracks.  “The deal’s off, guys,” she said.  “We’re not going anywhere.”

Flex had joined them in the hall.  “Why?”

“I’d say look outside, but I don’t want you to die,” she said.  “We’re fucking surrounded.”

An old Pac Man machine blocked a small window on the west side of the bar where the parking lot was.  Flex ran to it and pushed it aside as though it weighed nothing.  He stared out of the window for what may have been a full minute.  Hemp joined him.

“The best laid plans,” said Hemp.  “What now?”

“I wish I knew.”

Hemp looked back at the lab.  “God!  I forgot something.  I’ve got to stop this now!”  He ran back into the lab.

Once inside, he pulled the bag containing Corn Silk’s head from the floor and put it on the counter.  Then he turned and cut the oxygen flow from the hyperbaric chamber, opening the lid.

“Breathe, sweetheart.  Or whatever it is you do.”

He snapped on a pair of nitrile gloves.

Using a large, serrated blade, Hemp cut open Corn Silk’s head quickly and unceremoniously.  When he twisted the crown off, he removed one bloody glove and snapped on an LED flashlight, illuminating the brain.

“My God,” he said aloud.  “Everything but the cerebral cortex is vibrant.”

And he knew the portion of the brain within Corn Silk’s skull that had, in most of them, been shriveled and dead was the portion that, for the most part, held memory and awareness.

It was regenerating.  But for what?

Hemp knew the answer: 
Awareness.
Perhaps of what people were, even when they could not be identified through scent.

Humans were food, and she knew it, even when WAT-5 was in play.

He pushed the brain to one side and shone his light inside.

More bad news.  The Hypothalamus was oversized; enormous.

It
controlled appetite.

Hemp looked at the zombie on the table.  He hadn’t heard anymore cries from Rebecca, so either she was far enough away or the creature was no longer sending the message that she was dying.

He rushed to the small refrigerator and opened it, happy to see the propane by which it was powered had not yet run out.  Removing the vial of medicine from within, he rushed back to the counter.

Pounding came on the walls.

“Hemp, Flex needs you,” said Charlie, rushing into the lab.  “He’s organizing a defense, babe.”

“I’ve got one more thing to do, Charlie.  Tell him to hold on and I’ll be there.  Please.”

Hemp tore the paper off of a syringe and plunged the needle into the bottle, filling it to its maximum.

It was Anastrozole.  An estrogen blocker.  He’d been meaning to try it but with everything going downhill so quickly, he hadn’t had the chance.  The amount he was about to administer would be fifty times the dose given for medical purposes.

He moved over to the creature, whose eyes now followed him once more, and whose throat began to vibrate anew.

“You can stop that crap now, little lady.  Let’s see what this does to you.”

He jabbed the needle into her chest and pushed the plunger all the way in.

Her eyes immediately bugged.  They popped out of her skull, dangling down the sides of her temples.

Her body shuddered and convulsed, and her head began sinking in on itself.  Liquid poured from her ears, eye sockets and nostrils, and from her mouth came a bubbling bile. 

And for a grand finale, her face shriveled up and went as black as onyx.

Hemp smiled, threw the syringe against the wall and slapped his hand hard onto the counter.  “Well, take that you fucking estrogen charged bitch!”

He pulled off his remaining glove, ditched the bloody lab coat, and threw it all onto the floor, then pushed his way through the crowd to give his friends the good news.

*****

Chapter Eighteen

The caravan of cars and trucks rolled down Highway 103, their headlights stabbing through the pitch darkness. 

Except for the tremendous glow on the horizon that they had been watching for over an hour.

“Jesus Christ,” said the driver.  “That’s gotta be a hell of a fire.  Looks like it musta charred the whole city of Concord.”

“No doubt,” said the man in the seat directly behind him.  “Jason, zoom out on that GPS.  See where it looks like it is.”

A few seconds later the boy responded.  “Looks like it’s square in the middle of Concord.”

“Shit,” said the driver.  “Wonder what the hell happened?”

“Maybe lightning started it.  When it rains, it pours,” said the other man.  “What now?”

“There are a lot of people there from what
Sheridan said,” said Tony Mallette.  “Nick, we might need to take a different approach.  This might be a rescue mission rather than a
drop in and live on your street
mission.”

The ten vehicles from the ZFZ safe houses rolled on through the night.  Snow had been heavy in
Shelburne, Vermont, and despite the fact that Ryan Carville was dead and his band of thugs no longer ruled the streets, supplies were as low as the spirits of Tony’s companions.

Tony had called a meeting with all of the Zombie Free Zone house residents, and after some long, difficult back and forth debating, they had made a decision.  When a break in the weather presented itself, they would be ready to roll.  Day or night.

And it just so happened to be night.  It was late March, and the snow had become less and less frequent, finally melting enough to make some decent time.  The entire run was under four hours, even with the potential road blockages, so it was a matter of making the decision and hitting the road.

The line of vehicles carried all of the refugees who had decided that
Concord would be a safer place to live.

Ten minutes later, the procession reached Route 3 and headed south.  The land was smoldering, but it appeared the northwesterly wind had driven the fire quickly south.  The roads ahead of them were passable, and the flames small enough now not to be a danger to their vehicles.

“The trees went up like matchsticks,” said Jason.  “Wow.”

“Watch out, Tony!” said Nick, pointing at an overturned bus.

“I see it, I see it,” said Tony, swerving his vehicle around it, then looking behind him to make sure the rest of his modern day wagon train had followed suit.  Then something caught his eye.

“Get on the radio and tell them to stop,” said Tony.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Tony swung the Toyota Camry around and hung a left next to the bus and into the parking lot set back a few hundred feet from the road.  He came to a closed, chain link fence, and accelerated.

“What the hell are you doing, Tony?” shouted Nick, but it was too late.  The Camry barreled into the gate, tearing it from its hinges and tossing it harmlessly out of the way.

“Huh?” said Tony, smiling.   “When I set my mind to something, right?”

Nick shook his head, and Jason was laughing.  Tony drove on, the group behind him following.  When he made the right turn in the parking lot proper, he stopped, looked at Nick and Jason and gave a whoop.

“Bingo!” he said.  “We’re gonna roll into Concord like goddamned knights in shining armor!”

“What if they don’t need knights?” asked Nick.  “What if everything’s okay?”

Tony smiled.  “No harm done, then.  They’re just gonna have the ability to go on some big field trips, pal.”

*****

Flex stood on a chair, his arms in the air, trying to get the crowd’s attention.  “Please be quiet,” yelled Flex above the din.  “Quiet!

The people in the room, all frightened beyond what their imaginations ever dreamed they would be, fell into relative silence.

Nobody sat anymore; there wasn’t room.  The chairs had been stacked, and the only cots remaining were for those too injured to stand.

“If you’ve got a gun, get it loaded,” he said.  “If you’ve  got a hammer, an axe, a crossbow, a damned big bottle, get it in your hands.”

“Don’t forget Ninja stars,” said Nelson.

“And Ninja stars,” said Flex, unable to argue at the interruption.

He was interrupted again by the door straining on its hinges as literally hundreds of dead walkers pushed against the building.  Every door had been secured with the unused chairs, but it seemed more of the creatures were arriving by the minute, pressing against the building with increasing aggression.

“Open door,” said Rebecca, standing to Flex’s left.

Hemp visibly bristled.  “That command didn’t come from my subject,” he said.  “She died five minutes ago.”

“Then it’s coming from one of the females outside, right?” asked Flex.

Hemp nodded.

Gem rushed to Rebecca and grabbed her around the middle, pinning her arms and immobilizing her.  Rebecca had made no move toward the entrance, but Flex knew Gem was taking no chances; not with her girls in the building.

Flex turned back to the waiting crowd.  “Okay, you heard what I said,” he said, over the voices that had risen again at Rebecca’s words.  “Don’t do anything unless they get inside.  Also, if you are between twelve and fifty years old and you are female, you should already have taken one of the wafers Hemp produced.  Everyone else should have taken the wafers we were producing at the brewery, and you should have a pocketful of extras.  We made thousands, so if you don’t have any extra, see Victoria and Vikki and they’ll make sure you do.”

“Are we going to make it out of here?” asked a voice from the crowd.

“All we can do is fight,” said Flex.  “So be ready to do it.”

He stepped down from the chair and went to Gem, who still held Rebecca.  “Open door,” said Rebecca.

“Rebecca,” said Flex.  “Do you feel like you want to open the door?”

She looked at him, tremendous fear in her brown eyes.  “No.  But I can’t stop saying what they’re putting in my head.”

“We’re going to have to have someone watch you, okay?  We can’t take the chance that their control over you will strengthen.  I know Hemp just gave you another of the new wafers.  It may be all that’s keeping you independent.”

She nodded.  “I don’t mind.  Whatever.”

“Good.”

Gem passed her off to a larger woman who had said she was unwilling to kill anything.  She did agree to restrain Rebecca if necessary, and to keep her away from the doors and windows.

Gem walked with Flex and retrieved her Uzi from behind the bar.  She stuffed spare magazines into her four pockets.

Flex’s K7 was loaded and ready, and Hemp had shut down the hyperbaric chamber and readied his weapon.   Scofield held his Ruger, looking a bit helpless, as though he were bringing a peashooter to a cannon party.

He basically was, but a Flex knew a well-placed shot would be just as effective as one from his Daewoo.

“So this is it,” said Charlie.  She held Hemp’s arm and glanced toward the door.  The scraping and banging outside was wearing on everybody’s nerves.

“You know what they say,” said Hemp.  “It’s not over until the soprano sings.”

“It’s the fat lady,” said Charlie. 

Hemp squeezed her arm.

“Everyone with weapons, line up in two rows facing each side of the building.  We could be breached from either side.”

Flex saw Gem turn and look at Trina, who sat with Kimberly.  The oldest sister was leaning close to her, and speaking calmly.  Trina did not look frightened.  Gem looked terrified, but Flex knew it was not for herself, but for the girls that her heart ached.

A man pushed through the crowd and collided with Flex.  He held a handheld radio and his face was white as a ghost.  “Some guy … he’s on this radio, and he’s asking for you!”

Flex looked at him.  “Are you kidding?’  He took the radio.  “This is Flex Sheridan.  Who’s this?”

“Flex, it’s Tony!”

“Tony?”  Flex looked at Gem, then it clicked.  “Tony Mallette?”

“Hell yes, Tony Mallette!  Buddy, we’re heading into town, and we figured you were in some trouble.  Saw the fire from miles and miles away.”

“I’m not sure there’s much you can do for us, Tony,” said Flex.  The building we’re in is fuckin’ surrounded.  We can’t get to our vehicles, and we can’t kill all of ‘em.  Where are you?”

“Right the fuck outside, Flex!  I take it you’re in that pair of buildings with the long corridor between them?  That’s where all the dead people are hanging out.”

“Exactly, Tony.  But you better get out of here.  You wait much longer and you’re going down, too.”

“Ah, but we got a secret weapon, Mr. Sheridan.  Tell me a little about the construction of the building you’re in.”

“Brick on both ends.  Looks like the corridor connecting them is wood frame.  It was built afterward to connect the two structures.”

“Okay, then,” said Tony, his voice more cheerful than Flex would have expected.  “Is anyone in that corridor?”

“It’s packed.”

“Clear ‘em out, my friend.  I’m comin’ in full speed.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Tony?  What are you in?  A bulldozer?”

“Hell no, you’re smarter than that,” said Tony.  “That would leave me unprotected.  Just get everyone into the bigger building on the right side, and do it fast.  The thicker this goddamned crowd out here gets, the harder this is gonna be.  And be prepared to kill a couple in case they get pushed inside.”

“Pushed inside?”

“Do it, Flex.  I’ll give you two minutes.”

Flex shrugged and started calling orders.  “Pack in, people.  Everyone in the bar, nobody in the corridor or the lab.  Everyone!  Now!”

They pushed and packed in like canned sardines, moving quietly and as orderly as they could.  Flex was impressed with the calmness with which they obeyed his instruction.

They had completed the move in less than a minute.  Flex got back on the radio.  “Tony, if you’re gonna do something, you’re clear.”

From outside, the sound of an engine revving grew louder.  Flex watched the corridor along with everyone else, now pushed together so tightly they could barely breathe.

The engine rev climaxed with the wall crashing inward, wood and plaster splintering, glass shattering, and several of the undead and unwanted getting smashed on the back wall of the hallway.

Tony had driven a school bus right through the wall, and the next sound Flex heard were the hydraulics as the door swung inward.  Tony sat in the driver’s seat, smiling.

Several rotters had been driven inside, five or six crushed between the wall and the front of the bus.  Others were trapped underneath, and as they began crawling from beneath the vehicle, Charlie got close and put well-placed arrows in the heads of three of them.    She was on guard, watching for further movement as the crowd murmured and shifted, but did not yet surge toward the bus.

Flex saw one creature that had been trapped on the driver’s side trying to slide between the Bluebird and the splintered wall.  He raised his K7 and fired twice, knocking it back for good in a spray of dark red mist.

The gap between the outer wall and the bus was not passable, which was a relief.

“Waylon!” he shouted.

Bell came pushing through the crowd.  “Yeah, Flex.”

“Get low on the ground.  Some are on the other side.  If they try to crawl under the bus, take ‘em out, but don’t hit the tires, whatever you do.”

“Got it.”  Bell got down on his belly beside the front tire, and immediately took two quick shots.

“Okay?” asked Flex.

“Yeah, Flex.  Good deal.  Do what you have to do.”  He took another shot.  His face was calm, determined.  Flex was glad.  He returned to the door and looked up at Tony.

“What are you waiting for?” Tony asked.  “Get the strongest in first.”

“Tony, that’s not near enough.  We have over three hundred people in here.”

“Yeah?  Well we got nine freakin’ buses, so if you want to get the hell outta
Concord, then you better start loadin’!”

“We can’t get to the other buses, Tony,” said Flex.  People were already pushing onto the transport, clamoring over one another. 

Tony pulled the handle and closed the door of the bus again, knocking one scrambling man to the floor as he stood on the first step.  Frightened, he got back to his feet and pounded on the door until Flex pushed forward and took his arms, restraining him.

“Calm down, buddy.  We’re trying to figure this out.”

The man nodded his head quickly, breathing hard.

Tony came over Flex’s radio again.  “The buses are side by side, Flex.  Tight together.  There are open windows on both sides of the buses in the middle.  Windows lined up.  They come in, they crawl through the windows from one bus to the other until they’re all full.  Then we blow this firetrap.”