The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (26 page)

“BSN?” I asked.

“Brain Scent Neutralizer.”

“Fuck off,” I said.

“No, really.”

“So,” Flex said, grinning.  “You think you can actually build something we wear that neutralizes the odor of our brain?”

“I do, yes.  We have a device that analyzes chemical compounds, which is what gave me the idea.  Also, there are other devices out there, such as carbon monoxide monitors and other chemical sniffers that essentially work the same way.”

“So what will it be?  Like a helmet?”

Hemp smiled.  “Exactly, Gem!  You see, the brain has an odor, as does anything.  Clearly a fresh brain has an odor these things are tuned to smell.  The scent may present itself as we exhale, through our ears, eyes, any opening to the skull.  I imagine a fart might contain some elements of our brain scent too, but it might be sufficiently masked by the odor of feces accompanying it.”

“You’re fucking disgusting,” I said.

“
That
was bullshit,” Hemp said.  “I was having some fun with you with that last bit.”

“But the device is possible, right?  This could be real?” Flex asked.

“In theory, it’s possible.  I might need nothing more than a Radio Shack, a sporting goods store, and a Tractor Supply for the safety gear and filtration.”

“So we could be aromatically invisible to them,” I said.  “That would be awesome.  They can’t hear for shit, so we could essentially sneak up on them no matter which way the wind was blowing.”

“Yes,” Hemp said.  “But they’ll have to run on batteries, so there will be a time limit for each trip out.  I don’t want anyone to get caught short.  Maybe I’ll put a small meter gauge on each one so you can monitor it.”

“You go, boy,” Flex said.

“I plan on going, boy,” Hemp said.  “And with my zombie couple in there, I’ll have test subjects.  I just need to get settled somewhere so I can start this research.”

We all got back to work.

The rain continued.

*****

CHAPTER
FOUR

Flex had six spare five-pound propane tanks in the garage, so he showed Charlie and me how to connect them to the main tank to refill them.  Two were already full, so we filled the other four and dropped them in our Radio Flyer for transport to the mobile lab. 

As we loaded up the last one, Hemp said, “I think that’s enough weight.  Pulling the trailer, we’re going to be pushing it.”

“You’ve got the turbo on there, so you should be okay, don’t you think?”

“Probably, but we’ll take it day by day.  Either way I need the lab, so worse case we’ll just lighten the trailer load if we have to.  Pick up materials as we go.”

“Your call,” I said.

Hemp left to help Flex load up some of the last items and Charlie watched him walking away, a smile on her lips.

“Yeah, he’s got a cute butt,” I said.

“Indeed he does,” she said.

“You about ready?”

Charlie nodded.  “All our crossbows, weapons, ammo, and all Trina’s stuff is packed and loaded.  We’re going to have to do some shopping for me – especially since we won’t have the washing facilities anymore.”

I laughed.  “For you I’m thinking a skateboard shop will have your style.  Maybe a tattoo place.”

“Or a Hard Rock Café,” she said.  “Maybe I could pick up Hemp something there, too.  He looks good in black.”

“We’ll have to put a washboard and some large buckets and detergent on the list,” I said.  “Just because the world’s gone to shit doesn’t mean we have to start stinking like zombies.”

“Right,” said Charlie.  “So I guess we’re about ready?”

Trina walked up with some DVDs in her hand.  “Can we take these?  The videos of me and Jess and mommy and daddy?”

I knelt down beside her.  “Absolutely, baby.  I’ll go in and get you a DVD player to play them on.  I’m glad you showed them to us.  Do you want any other movies?”

She shook her head.  “No.  I don’t think so.  I’ve watched all of them a lot.  But I want to see everyone again, so just these are okay.”

“Okay, Trini.  Go get in the car and wait for me.  The one with the gun on top.  I think we’re almost ready to leave.”

We’d been keeping a close eye on the tree line, and so far nothing else had presented itself.  We were relieved, but had no illusions it was safe to stick around.  Flex had made it pretty clear that he wasn’t comfortable there anymore.

I walked over to where he and Hemp loaded up the last supplies and took his hand.

“Baby, are you ready to say good bye to the homestead?”

“I’m hoping I can come back here someday.  Wouldn’t be a bad place for us and Trina.”

“And the dogs,” I said.

“We can’t forget them,” said Flex.

“You got this from here, Flex?” Hemp asked.

Flex nodded.  “Yeah.  I guess make one more round through the house and make sure we didn’t forget anything.”

“Hey, Hemp, would you grab the DVD player for Trina?”

“Sure thing,” he said, trotting off.

“Now you,” I said to Flex.  “It sucks to have to take separate cars.”

I jumped into his arms and he caught me.

“Oh, here we go again!” he said, laughing.

I kissed his cheeks and neck, nuzzling him for a few moments.  He kissed me back.  I’d done this before, so Flex expected it.  I never doubted he’d catch me, even if it meant he had to drop whatever he was holding to do it.  I wasn’t much of a load for his strength, and I knew it, so it was a regular thing with me.  I dug the shit out of the feeling of being completely in his arms.

“And again and again,” I said.  “If I thought we had time, I’d take you in that house and make you work me over for an hour or two.  We have no idea when we’re going to have comfortable accommodations again.”

“You’re right about that,” he said, turning his arm to look at his watch.  “You sure we don’t have time?”

“I’m afraid it’s a pipe dream,” I said.

“Very funny,” said Flex.

I smiled.  “Anyway, I’d guess Max and his crew are wondering where we are by now.”

“He’ll understand once he hears what we went through.  I hate this feeling of tentativeness.  Not knowing where the hell we’re going or what we’ll find out there.  I’m not usually this way, but I feel anxious or something.” 

He planted one more kiss in the middle of my forehead and swung me back down on my feet.

Hemp came out of the house with a small carry pistol we’d forgotten and the DVD player, along with some other things I couldn’t quite make out.  He started to put them both in the trunk of the Crown Vic, then paused and slipped the Ruger .380 into his pocket.  It was an awesome little gun that weighed under nine ounces, but could do some damage with the right rounds.  Another weapon from our Tallahassee PD shopping spree.

Flex slapped me playfully on the ass.  I immediately thought about taking him inside again, but he ruined the mood.

“Okay, I guess that’s it,” he said.  “Let’s head to the CDC and grab Max, Cynthia and Taylor.  And going with Hemp’s idea, when we’re there we’ll recon a place where we’re close to a larger town.  We can set up shop on the outskirts if we can find a nice slab or block building with bay doors for the lab and trailer to be parked inside.”

“I’m down for all of it,” I said.  “But you know what they say: We make plans and God laughs.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” Flex said.  “But since you found me and we’re both uninfected, I have to believe there’s a plan for us one way or the other.”

“You romantic bastard, you.” 

I jumped back into his arms and he caught me again with an exaggerated grunt, smiling big.

“Just checking.  Put me down and let’s get the hell outta Dodge.”

*****

Every vehicle had new or newer tires, so the muddy conditions weren’t a hindrance to our passage from Flex’s front yard to the main highway.

Naturally, Hemp drove his precious rolling lab, towing the workshop trailer behind it.  With the additional length, he had to negotiate the gently winding driveway from Flex’s house to the paved road more carefully, but in the end he made it just fine.  The motor clacked but purred like a healthy diesel engine should. 

And I’m not making fun of Hemp at all.  He was sort of a prima donna when it came to his lab, but we anticipated that work space would help him come up with some important information about the outbreak.  Maybe even a cure, down the road.  Or other ways to protect ourselves, such as his BSN device.  I still wasn’t sure that wasn’t all bullshit, but I wasn’t one to question Hemp, and he wasn’t one to kid around about technology.  And he definitely wouldn’t get our hopes up on a lark.  If he said he might be able to do it, he’d already built the fucker in his head and had only to put it together in the physical world.

I was in the Crown Vic with Trina, and for the time being Charlie rode with Flex.  This was mostly because of the stink in the lab from the zombies strapped to the table.   Hemp hadn’t had a chance to seal up the door to the back with more weather stripping, and it permeated the entire ride.  I figured that Charlie was pretty eager to ride along with him though, so if my guess was right, she’d be installing that weather stripping herself if it wasn’t  done in a couple of days.

Flex’s Suburban led our little caravan, and I followed behind him.  I kept a close eye on the lab behind us, but Hemp’s gun turrets had been fully appointed, and the guns were loaded.  If trouble presented itself, Hemp would be churning out so many exploded zombie heads that trouble would tuck its tail between its legs and shuffle for the hills.

Our main concern was road blockages, but there had been none that kept us from getting here in the first place, and unless other normies were out there fucking up the roadways, then we could pretty much rest assured that we’d have a clear path.

I punched the button on my radio.  “Flexy, keep those front wheels on the ground this time, eh?”

“No repeat of the sinkhole incident,” he promised.

The caravan rounded the corner and the CDC buildings came into view.  We drove in through the raised gate that Hemp had unlatched and propped up and skirted around the wrecked
Japan airliner.

I noticed with some trepidation that there were several bloody slime marks on the concrete where normally dead people had clearly crawled away, my disbelieving logic telling me it was by using only their upper body strength – because that was all that remained of their bodies.

My breath caught short.  I pushed the talk button on my walkie.

“Fuck’s sake, Flex.”

“I see it, babe,” he said.

Up ahead, just outside of building number two – where we needed to go – were probably fifteen zombies.  They didn’t appear to have seen us yet, but from where we were I could see the overturned security jeep and the bodies of the guards that Flex and Hemp had killed on our first visit here. 

They were nothing but skeletons now, but two zombies were still hunched over them, eating God knew what. 

The rain had finally let up, which was good.  And without warning, the door to the Suburban opened and out stepped Charlie.

“Flex, what the fuck!” I shouted into the walkie.

“I didn’t tell her to do that, Gem!”

I honked my horn, but Charlie didn’t look.  Instead she reached into her quiver and held six arrows in one hand, slapped one into the crossbow, aimed and fired.

Dead hit.  Another.  Right through the eye.  The two zombies fell almost simultaneously.

I heard machine gun fire and saw Hemp had joined her, but our friends were still outnumbered.  Hemp was focused on three of the creatures who were approaching my car.  With a determined look on his face, he swung that MP5 around with dead precision and exploded two of their heads in rapid succession.

The third had reached the Crown Vic and was pounding on the door of the car, leaving bloody smears wherever its hands touched.  I almost fired right through the passenger side window, but Trina was beside me.  I struggled for a moment with what I should do.

Its face smeared against the glass and its strange eyes hungered for the visual enticement that was the flesh of living, breathing humans.  God how I wanted to kill it.

But as I pulled Trina’s face away from the creature and continued to stare through the glass, I saw Hemp running full speed toward it.  I wasn’t sure of his plan, but seconds later, with a flying kick, he knocked it back five feet.  It tumbled to the ground and as it tried to get up, Hemp stood over it and triggered a long burst of gunfire into its brain, rendering it a mass of bloody, meaty pulp.

No sooner than this threat had been dealt with, I saw five more come around the corner of the building and move in, the eerie eye shine prevalent as they shambled toward where Hemp and Charlie were locked in battle.  Hemp was now preoccupied with two that were closer to Charlie, who had taken down three more but was too engaged to recapture her arrows.  She now had only three arrows remaining in her quiver.  She fired off another that plunged through the side of the head of one of the things that appeared to have been a nurse in a former life.  The creature dropped like a stone, dark congealed blood oozing from the wound.

And now two more moved toward her.  She rushed toward one of the first ones she’d plugged, yanked the arrow out, locked it in and took out another dead walker.

I held my breath watching her through the windshield, my hand on my Uzi.

“Get down, Trina.  On the floor now!”

Trina began to cry, and I said, “Honey, we’ll be okay.  Just get down, please.”

She did.

As I watched in horror, Charlie mounted another arrow and raised the sight to her eye.  She let the arrow fly and it shattered the cheekbone of what might have been a sixteen year old girl in a former life, now staggering along in one Van’s tennis shoe and a destroyed sock.  Its brain was not hit, however, for she kept walking toward Charlie.

I’d had enough.

“Flex, I’m going.  There are too many for them.”

But I looked up and saw that Flex had already exited his truck and held the trigger of his K7 down, blowing the head clean off a former maintenance worker who still wore his tool pouch.  The muck and gore ran down his chest and filled the leather tool carrier with blood and flesh as the animal-human dropped to the pavement.

I dropped the walkie on the seat of the car and said to Trina, “Stay put and lock the doors when Gemmy gets out, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, her tears still flowing.

Charlie had mounted another arrow and as the young girl in the single Van tennis shoe closed to within five feet, she put it through her forehead.  Almost as soon as the piercing wound killed the zombie, Charlie had the arrow extracted by virtue of her boot and a strong grip, and let the same arrow fly at another of the things.

But from the direction of the plane crash, several others moved toward us.  Maybe they’d been feasting on some of the dead passengers who had been scattered around the fuselage, as they were covered with gore and blood.