The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (169 page)

BOOK: The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5
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“Hundreds?” I asked.  “How can they all fit?”

“Have you been there before?”

“When I was a kid, really.  Long time ago,” I said.  “I don’t remember it being that big.”

“Bug kept going deeper and deeper into the hillside,” said Mattie.  “Several chambers, from what I hear.  Storage, water tanks.  I hear the inside lower level is as big as half a football field, all told.”

“Bug told us that before,” said the boy.  “Those zombie things kept coming here, but when the main group left for Bug’s, they moved away, too.  A ton of ‘em.  We stay clear.”

“He’s right,” said Mattie, pulling a strand of her hair away from her face.  “We get the odd straggler, but they tend to migrate over there.”

“Scent is a draw for them,” said Nelson.  “Happened to us in Concord.”


New Hampshire?” Russell asked.  “How far did you guys fly?”

“We came from South Carolina, but we flew from Knoxville,” I said.

“Far as we know they’re trapped in there,” said Russell.  “Only one way in and out, and they can’t get out.  They had radios for a bit, but their batteries went dead, ‘cause we haven’t heard from them in months.  I don’t know if they’re dead or alive now,” he added.

“Jesus,” I said, looking at Serena.  “How are we going to get to Uncle Bug?”

“If he’s even still alive,” said Nelson.

“If you ask me, I think he is,” said Russell.

“How do you know?”

“Because I smell exhaust once in a while, when the wind is right.  Just slight, but sometimes like diesel.  Other times I swear I catch a whiff of propane, other than our own.”

“He must have vent pipes,” said Rachel.

“You guys have any weapons?” asked Nelson.

“Yeah,” said Russell, going to a closet in the middle of the rail car.  He reached in and withdrew a rifle, holding it up.  “30-06.”

“I think we have ammo for that,” I said.  “In the chopper.  We didn’t carry it all down to the cabin because of weight.”

“If we stay here, we only need it for hunting,” said Maddie.  “The dead ones are stragglers mostly, so we use bats and scrap metal to kill them.”

“What do you do with their bodies?” asked Rachel.

“We burn them,” said Hannah, surprising all of us, I think.  Her voice was not gloomy, rather bright and informative.  “We drag them to the north side of the park.  There’s a pit there.”

Life changed.  Trina will be just as sharp when she’s ten,
I thought. 

“Good,” I said.  “Prevent bringing other diseases into the mix.”

“So you said there are twelve of you, huh?” asked Nelson.  “Where are the others?”

“Oh, that’s right,” said Maddie.  “Should I call them?”

“Not here,” said Russell, shaking his head.  “Let’s go to the Crew Dispatcher cabin.  More room.”

Maddie got on the radio.  “Guys,” she said.  “Our guests are okay.  Let’s all head over to cabin 6.”

Russell opened the door and led the way outside.  The kids followed him, with me, Serena, Maddie, followed by Nelson, Lola and Rachel.  I looked back to see Rachel scanning the tree line beyond the park, her AR-15 ready to fire.

What I saw next blew my mind.  A tall, young black man in dark blue overalls led the remaining group.  He was probably only nineteen years old.

The rest were all young girls.  Their ages ranged from five to probably fourteen years.

I didn’t say anything until we got inside; I watched them file in, all very orderly and quiet.  I noted that as they walked, each of them turned their heads and scanned the distance.  Training, I knew.  It was necessary to stay alive.

Each of them held a length of what appeared to be rebar.  The older ones carried thicker pieces, longer lengths.  The younger girls carried ½” diameter pieces, maybe three feet long.

“It makes me want to cry,” said Serena in my ear as we followed them into cabin 6.  The kids all hopped onto the beds, and there was a dinette set with six chairs as well.

Once inside, two of the older girls went to drawers and removed lighters, then moved around the room lighting the candles on the tables and counters.  The light was sufficient.

We numbered 17 all told, and once inside, we pulled the door closed and Hannah turned the lock.

“I’ll let the kids sound off so you know their names,” said Russell.

The young man who had clearly been in charge approached the table and held out his hand.  “I’m Albert,” he said.  “Brookins.”

A girl of about seven sitting on the bed raised her hand.  “I’m Frannie,” she said.

Another of around  ten said, “Cara.”

As we moved around the bed, we met Crystal, Linda, Lily, Robin and the oldest of the young girls, Kristin.  She was seventeen with dirty blonde hair, just past her shoulders, kind of like Charlie’s.  She appeared closer to fifteen years old.

“Dudes,” said Nelson, looking between Maddie and Russell.  “How did they all end up here?  Where are their parents?”

“You don’t have to answer that,” said Rachel, taking Nelson’s hand and squeezing it.

Nelson’s face said he realized his lack of delicacy.  “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head.  “I just meant that I wasn’t sure how so many kids ended up here.”

“Girl’s camp,” said Albert.  “I was one of several camp counselors.  My parents ran it.”

The girls all sat around the bed, their hands in their laps.  Their faces were expressionless, and no smiles touched their lips.  It was not as though they looked sad; instead they appeared to be children waiting for something terrible to happen, but with no idea when or what it would be.  At the same time, they did not look frightened.

“I take it all you girls like fish?” asked Lola, with a smile.

“We eat it a lot,” said the one named Robin, who was probably twelve years old.  “It’s okay with seasoning.”

“I cook a mean fish,” said Lola.  “Russell here said there are four down there on a stringer.”

“We’ll need more to feed this batch,” said Maddie.

“We have food in the chopper,” said Rachel.  “Do you have any fuel here?”

“We actually do,” said Russell.  “I have at least a full 5-gallon can right now.  The tanker had just filled the  underground tanks at Manfredi’s Food & Gas on the Friday, and everything started on a Sunday, so yeah.  We’ve been able to get as much as we could haul.  We’re in need of another run about now.”

“I can dump that in,” said Rachel.  “It’ll get the chopper from there to here, and I can put it down over by that little pond.  All our supplies and ammo are in there.”

“Better get it right away,” said Russell.  “There aren’t too many folks around, but you never know who might come across it and try to
break inside.”

“Has anyone from up there come down here?” asked Serena.

“Only the scary ones,” said little Frannie.  “Nobody else.”

“Did anyone up there know where you were going?” asked Serena.  “I mean, do they know you’re here now?”

Albert shook his head.  “Who knows now,” he said.  “I believe my parents are still there.  I know they
were
alive, because I ran up there with them, along with all the girls that didn’t get sick.  I got separated from them, but I saw my mom go inside.  I lost track of my dad, but last I saw, he was right behind her.  I don’t think he’d have left her side.”

Albert’s hair was very short, and his eyes were pale white against his skin, slightly bloodshot, but alert.  I saw determination there, too.

“I’m sure that was hard,” said Lola.  “We’ve all lost people.  I’m glad there’s still hope in your heart, Albert.”

“Thanks,” he said.  “Everyone in town thought of Bug first,” said Albert.  “We knew he was one of those preppers, or whatever they call them.  He had an arsenal of guns, lots of food, water and supplies to last forever.  Everyone pretty much laughed at the guy for years, but when all this went down, I guess you know what happened.”

“Suddenly the dude wasn’t such a goofball,” said Nelson.  “His place looked like a sanctuary.”

Albert nodded, scratching his head.  “Yeah.  Exactly.  It was like this mad rush to get up there, just crazy.  People coming from everywhere in town, but in the middle of it, people were getting sick and going after other people, so it was pretty nuts.”

“Were you still with your parents when you got to Uncle Bug’s house?” I asked.

Albert shook his head.  “Nah, it was like an anthill getting sprayed.  The things were going after everyone, so it was a scatter.  Like I said, I was lucky to catch sight of them at all before they went inside.”

Albert shook his head, remembering.  “When my folks got separated from us, I was watching after these girls and some others.  It was quite a trek up there, and by that time I’m pretty sure my parents were up towards the front.  Like I said, things were getting nuts, and more and more people kept getting in between them and us.  By the time we got there, the bolt cutters were on the ground and I just caught sight of my mom going inside with the crowd.”

“I was there,” said Russell.  “It was like a river of bodies flowing into that garage.  Swept inside is right.  More like swept away.  Lots of people with powerful headaches pushed in there, too, and I’d already figured out it was the first symptom, so I’d changed my mind about wanting to go there.”

“When they pulled the doors closed,” added Maddie, “we barely cleared them and got the kids away.  Hannah’s hand got caught in the door.  Scared us to death.”

Hannah held up her left hand and I saw she was missing her pinky finger.  The ring finger was only a nub, severed just above the first knuckle.  I was surprised I hadn’t noticed it earlier, but when I’d shaken her hand, it was her right.

“I’ll go with Rachel to get the chopper,” said Nelson.  “You going to do any more fishing?” he asked Russell.  “I’d prefer some trout to the preservative-laden crap I’ve been eating lately.”

“I normally catch enough for the day if I can,” said Russell.  “Another couple hours should do it.”

“I’d like to watch your method,” said Serena.  “I love fishing.  Can I go with you?”

 

*****

 

The girls stayed inside the cabin under Albert’s direction.  None of them complained, and the older ones took care of the younger ones.  They were promised lunch soon.

Maddie and her kids, Russ and Hannah, joined Russell and Serena down at the brook to fish while Nelson and Rachel took off on foot to retrieve the helicopter, both armed and ready in case trouble presented itself.  They took a radio and I had mine as well, both tuned to channel 16.

Albert led the way toward the trail.

“It’s right here,” the nineteen-year-old said.  He pointed.  “You take this, and it crosses over interstate 5.  On the other side, you’ll find a narrow trail that eventually goes through a small tunnel.  That’s not easy to find, either.  When you get through it – it’s about fifty or sixty yards – you’re on the other side of the first hill, and that’s where it opens up and you can see some of Bug’s place.”

“I don’t remember it being that hard to find,” I said.  “From when I was a kid.”

“My folks have run the camp up here for twenty years,” said Albert. “They told me it didn’t used to be.  Used to be a driveway right off Mountain Avenue.”

“When did that change?” I asked.

Albert shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Since I remember, it’s been pretty hidden.  But I know how to get there like the back of my hand.  I go there once in a while.  I can’t give up on my mom and dad.”

“What do you do there?”

“Mostly stay out of sight,” he said.  “Like Russell probably told you, we don’t have guns.  Nobody had many up here anyway – this is California, after all – but I still come up just to see if anything changed.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like if all the zombies or whatever are gone,” he said.  “I need to get in that garage and see if Bug ever let everyone further into his complex.  Maybe he saved them all and they’re just living the good life inside there.  Like I told you, I never saw it, but I heard he was set up, man.  Had all he’d need for years.”

“It’s all about your parents,” I said.  “I get it.  You think they might still be alive.”

He nodded, then pointed off behind me.  “Turn that gun, buddy.  Quick.”  He double-fisted his chunk of rebar, but I turned and saw the thing staggering from among the trees, its skin almost completely black, its eyes blowing pink vapor in quantities I hadn’t seen in a long time.

I fired twice, capping him in the skull with both rounds.  His head flew backward and his body got the message a split-second later and flew backward, too.

The dead thing lay there on its back and I saw that both its tennis shoes had lost their soles; now his shredded, gray feet were exposed like rotted meat.

“That gun sure is easier than this,” said Albert, holding up his rebar.

“That works, though.  I imagine you’re pretty quick now.  You guys know about the vapor, right?”

“What vapor?”

“The stuff that makes their eyes pink.  Some of them are red – the pregnant females.”

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