The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (178 page)

“Even uninfecteds?” asked Serena.  “Killing people?”

“I suppose they figured it was a
them or us
thing.  They finally got the doors closed, but so many people got bit and scratched in the process that eventually it turned into what you see now.  Just a bunch of those things.  Everybody got infected.”

Bug panned the camera over to the inside of the huge doors, and we saw what looked like twenty belts buckled between the two heavy, interior handles.  It would be impossible to open them as we had tried to do.

“Like I said, I hadn’t gotten everything in order yet – the electrical shit.  Not dialed in.  I intended to get as many healthy folks up here, to where we are, and with access to my storage area where I kept almost as much food as I have up here.  I got thirty or so into the middle chamber, off the garage.  That’s the one between there and here.”

“Do you have a camera in that room?” asked Albert.

“I do,” said Bug.

“Which one?” he asked, poring over the bank of screens, his eyes darting along the many labels, no doubt trying to figure out which button he should push.

“I’m almost scared to turn it on, Albert,” said Bug.  “I’ll be responsible for ending your hope.”

“Putting it off won’t change it, sir,” he said, solemnly.  “Please.”

Bug nodded and pressed the button by the monitor called STORAGE CHAMBER.

It was as dark as the garage had been.  “You ready?” asked Bug.

Albert nodded, his eyes locked on the screen.

“Okay,” my uncle said, and pushed the button.

Light bathed the room and we heard everyone inside scream as they threw their hands over their eyes, clearly shielding them from the brightness.

We all began to cry at the sight of the prisoners.  The many gaunt faces remained covered by thin hands, and one man was cupping his hands in a trickle of water that flowed down the interior of the stone wall, drinking.

“I don’t see her,” said Albert.  “Shit, I don’t see her!” He, too, was crying.  No.  Albert was sobbing.

“Hold on,” said Bug.  “Just hold on, kid.  Take this, Albert.  I lost control of the pan on this camera a long time ago.  There are dead spots I can’t see.”

Bug passed Albert a microphone and adjusted a volume potentiometer very low, putting it at 2.

“Go ahead,” said Albert.  “Say her name.  Tell her who you are.”

Albert held the mic up, watching the room.  “Mama,” he said.  “Ellie Brookins?  It’s me, Albert.  Mama, are you there?”

We all held our collective breaths and stared at the monitor.  A light, almost indistinguishable voice met our ears.  “Bertie?”

Albert’s eyes brightened and his sob caught in his throat.  He raised the microphone.  “Mama?” he whispered.

A head moved from the bottom to the top of the monitor.  Black hair.  A dark dress with white spots.  The face turned.  I didn’t know what Albert’s mother looked like, but this was a black woman.

She stared at the camera.  “Bertie?  Is that you?”

“Mama!” he shouted, and the crowd standing behind her cowered at the loudness of the sound.

“Albert,” said Uncle Bug.  “Softly, please.  For the others.”

“Mama, it’s me,” he said.  “I’m okay.  I’m alive.  You’re alive.  Mama, I’ve come to get you.”

The crowd behind her became more animated and the murmur behind her grew to a loud mumble, then a cacophony of voices.  “Help!  Help us!  Get us out of here!” they shouted in a variety of pleas.

“Albert, please,” said Bug, holding out his hand.

Albert looked at my uncle and raised the microphone again.  “Mama, I love you,” he said.  “I’ll be right here.  I’m close to you.  Just outside the door.”  He passed the microphone.

Bug pushed the button.  “Everyone, I have some help here now.  I haven’t until now.  We’re going to figure out how to get you out of there, I think.  I think we finally can.”

*****

“When all this started, we were still living in town,” said Bug.  “I wanted this place empty while I was doing all the electrical and blasting out the main rooms.  These rooms are all solid concrete walls with craploads of rebar running through them.  It all took years to build, but I had the main door installed right away.  Remote controlled.  There was no reason to move here until we had to, because I knew if the government turned on the people, we could be here in twenty minutes.”

He pointed at the entry door, then the door behind which the other survivors were trapped.  “Those two doors are impenetrable.  All the others lead to storage and living area, but those two are the ways in.   I don’t care what you throw at them, you’re not getting them open.  Try to blast ‘em and you’re just going to bend ‘em up so they’re jammed permanently.  It seemed like a good idea until those folks got trapped in there.”

“I guess it did,” said Rachel, who being military, could appreciate the value of fortified bunkers.

“Until I heard updates from your friend Hemp, I didn’t have any idea what was causing this crap or what anyone could do to protect against it,” said my uncle, stroking his beard the way I did when I was deep in thought.    “Locked in here, I didn’t have the stuff I needed to make your urushiol mix, and because of the sheer numbers of the freaks outside, I couldn’t go on any runs to pick poison ivy or anything else.”

“You have a ton of weapons, right?” Albert asked. “I heard you did.”

“I got the best, and tools of all kinds.”  Bug got up and went to the third aluminum panel to the right of the entry stairwell.  He turned a lever and slid it aside.  Behind it was every type and style of gun I could have imagined.  Along the wall were rack after rack, and at the base of the compartment were what looked like hand grenades and other incendiary devices.

Albert stared, but said nothing.  I suppose it just confirmed his suspicions.  My Uncle Bug had all the weapons in Dunsmuir and Lake Shasta.  The kid turned and went to sit on the couch.

“And I only picked up on Hemp’s broadcasts about six months ago, so this was way before that.”

Bug walked back to a plain, beige couch and sat down and we all walked over and stood beside him.

“I’d lost track of Angela for a while,” he said.  “I started seeing crazy stuff on the news, and before I knew it, the crazy shit was right outside my door.  I had guns at the other house too, so I loaded up and took out my share, then set out to find Angela.”

“Where was she?” asked Rachel, sitting beside him.

“She’d gone next door to check on our pregnant neighbor.  Her husband was deployed with the Marines, so Angela got friendly with her – went to check on her, seeing as how they were both with child.”

He picked up a bottle of water from the table and took a long drink.  “I knocked, but nothing.  Then I kicked the damned door in and saw my Angela standing there, this friend of hers completely turned into one of those things.  It’s crazy how fast they just don’t look alive anymore.  There was this red mist hanging in the air around Angela, but I had no idea what it was then.”

“But I thought they evolved to have that vapor,” I said.  “I’m pretty sure Hemp believes the red vapor came over time.”

“Maybe that was instantaneous,” said Serena.  “And the other things – the telepathy, the hearing – was part of the evolution.”

“Maybe,” I said.

“So what did you do, Bug?” asked Nelson, getting us back to the previous discussion.  I could see he was fascinated.

“What the hell do you think I did?  I grabbed my wife and pulled her away, and I shot at the thing.  It dropped to the damned ground so fast I didn’t see it coming, and I put a hole in the wall.  Next thing I knew the bitch got her hands around my legs and was probably just about to flip me on my back when I put that double-barreled shotgun against her head and sent her brains across the room.”

“Holy crap,” I said.  “Close call.”

“Angela was freaked out and confused, like she was in a daze.  I scooped her up, pregnant and all, and ran up here.  And I mean jogged my ass the entire distance, killing the freaks one-handed along the way.  I probably just barely beat the rest of the folks from town up here.”

“You got lucky,” said Rachel. 

“Not so lucky as I’d have preferred,” said Bug.  “All that shit sent Angie into some kind of labor.  By the time I got inside with the doors sealed up, she was cramping and bleeding bad.  I had medical supplies – enough for almost anything, but I didn’t have the expertise, and had no idea I’d need it.  She wasn’t due for a couple more weeks.”

“Planning for stuff you never really thought would happen and still didn’t think of everything?” asked Serena.

“That’s the understatement of the century,” said Bug.  “Anyway, I got her on the bed.  The bleeding stopped on its own, and I still felt the baby kicking, so I figured all was well.  Angie was awake, and I’d feed her and keep her comfortable, but after those things started collecting at the top hatch, she started mumbling weird shit.  She quit eating and just walked the perimeter of the room like she was going stir crazy.  Her eyes had turned blood red, but the baby seemed content to stay put for the time being.”

“So the labor pains just went away?” asked Rachel.  We’d told Rachel about the control the red-eyes had over fertile women, so questions about
what
Angela was saying probably seemed unnecessary.

“Must have been a false labor or something.  Just enough to freak the shit out of me.  Anyway, every time I let her get out of bed, she’d go to the controls and try to open the doors.  This went on for a week.  No sleep.  Watching her all the time, grabbing catnaps when I could.  She wasn’t one of
them
, but she was doing crazy stuff, and I had no idea why.”

“What did you do?”

“Strapped her, finally.  She begged me not to, but that was in her moments of clarity and those became more and more rare.  Pretty soon all she said was
open
and
in
and
door
and shit like that.  She didn’t seem to know who I was or care who I was.  Broke my heart.  She went in and out, but she never stopped trying to get to the doors.  Another two weeks passed, and then she was past her due date.  I was exhausted as hell, and more worried than I’d ever been.  Just when I thought I’d have to make some major decision about the baby, she went into full blown labor, and this time it was bad.  She was bleeding like crazy, and I didn’t have any goddamned blood supply or a way to get it in her.  Like I said, I didn’t plan for every contingency, even though I thought I had.”

“You delivered the baby?”

“I did.  Angie was gone, but she still pushed – I could see her doing it, and she worked that baby out of her body.  Isis slid into my arms, and I sat there, thankful that little baby girl was alive, but worried as hell about Angela.”

Rachel took Bug by the hand and squeezed it.

“You lost Angela then?” she said, quietly.

Bug nodded.  “She did something strange before, though.”

“What?” I asked, mesmerized.  We all were.  Even Albert.  He stared at Bug as he continued, and Rachel couldn’t keep her eyes off of my uncle.

“Her eyes opened real wide,” said Bug.  “And they were redder than I’d seen before.  She sat bolt upright and said
baby
.  Then she fell back and that was it.  She was gone.”

“Oh, my God,” said Albert, finally affected by the story, and perhaps understanding that Bug wasn’t the horrible person he’d made him out to be in his mind.

“I’m so sorry, Bug,” said Serena.  “Baby?” asked Serena.  “That’s all she said?”

“Yeah,” said Bug, putting his hands on his knees and standing up.  He took a deep breath.  “Whew.  I don’t think I ever want to tell that story again.”

I went to him and put my arms around him and pulled him in tight for a long time.  He put his arms around me and his head against mine, and we just stayed that way.  In my ear he said, “It’s damned good to be with you again, Davey.  I had no idea what it’d mean to see you again.  Can’t even tell you.”

“Double that,” I said.  “Love you, Unk.  Missed you more than I knew.”

He pulled away and his eyes were watering.  At least that’s what he’d say if anyone called him on it.

“I’ll go get Isis.  She’s probably bored by now.”

“Is she having a nap?” asked Serena, a kind smile on her lips.  “I can’t wait to meet her.”

I knew Serena’s mind had drifted to Trina and Taylor, and the baby we’d talked about having together.  I hoped she wasn’t worried.

Bug looked at her for a moment before answering.  “No, Serena.  She’s not having a nap.”

“No?”

Bug shook his head.  “Nope.  Isis doesn’t sleep.  Ever.”

We all stared at him.  He left to bring out his daughter.  The moment he left, I wondered to myself what my uncle had done with his dead wife’s body.

And if she had become something that he really didn’t want to talk about.

*****

The moment we saw Isis, we gasped.

Bug wasn’t surprised.  Isis had glowing red eyes.