The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (81 page)

“I said I’m sorry, but Charlie needs me.  I said I was going to bring back the other halves of their souls.  You and Hemp.”

I looked at Dave, with his long hair and kinky beard, and his twinkling eyes and a smile that did the same. I realized that had I not met and fallen in love with Hemp, this is a guy I’d have given a shot.

“You’re a good guy, Dave Gammon,” I said.  “You’re gonna make some lady very happy one of these days.”

He nodded and stared out the windshield.  He kept nodding.

“Someday,” he said.  “But let’s get through tomorrow first.”

****

We headed south on I93, and took the I89 west.  We’d stay on this highway, a four lane divided road, all the way into Vermont.   Just after the junction, we came across another roadblock like the one we’d run into on the way into Concord.

This time, we didn’t know any of the men guarding it.  There were three of them, and they looked bored and cold.  They all carried shotguns or rifles, and as we pulled up, they approached the car.  They didn’t appear nervous in any way, which made sense.  We were driving, so we weren’t zombies, and we were coming from the good side of the roadblock.

“Hey, folks,” said one of them, a skinny guy wearing a New Jersey Devils cap.  “What’s up?”

“Hey,” I said.  “We’re going out for supplies.”

“Not much out this way.  Sure you’re heading in the right direction?”

“Scouting,” said Dave, leaning over.  “How you guys doing?  Any trouble out here?”

“Few rats.  Lucky we have this juice.  Look.”  He pointed to the several melted rat bodies on the road a few feet away.  “No zombies, though.  Just these things.  Just as persistent, though.”

“They are.  We’re heading out for more poison ivy,” I said, the idea striking me at once.  “Need to restock the brewery and make more.”

“So you’re the folks who discovered that!” said the other man, a thicker dude with a beard.  He looked like the kind of guy you’d see driving a truck and drinking a Bud.

“We are,” said Charlie.  “Any zombies?”

“Fuckin’ zombies.”  The thicker one shook his head.  “Nah, not today.  Not out here.  They’re finding some north in town, though.  Near the cemetery.”

“That’s where they’ll be coming from,” said Dave.  “Well, be careful now.  We’ll see you on the way back in.”

“Need a ride along?” asked the third man, who was very clean cut with grey spiked hair and his tee shirt tucked neatly into khaki pants.  He let his Winchester lean on his shoulder like he wasn’t all too comfortable with a firearm of any kind.

“We’re good.  We’re really just going to find the plants today, and we’ll go back for it with a crew.”

“What’s your names?” asked spiked hair guy.

“I’m Julia,” I said.  “This is
Wilson.”

“Like the volleyball in that Tom Hanks movie,” said the thick one, scratching his beard.”

Dave smiled, and I snickered inside.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Just like that.”  He nudged me hard with his elbow.

“Alrighty, guys,” said the one with the cap.  “Be safe out there.  The rats are on the rampage.”

“We will.  Hey, what are your names?” I asked.

Cap guy said, “I’m Tony, that’s Scott, and the guy who looks like he’d be more comfortable in a 3-piece suit is Ed.”

“Don’t fool yourselves,” said Dave.  “You’d all look good in 3-piece suits.  We’ll see you now.”

They moved the barriers, this time large plastic sand barrels on furniture dollies.  The three men each rolled them out of the way, and we were off.  We waved as I hit the gas.

“Wilson?” said Dave.  “Really?  I look like a Wilson.”

“Not so much.  It just came to me.” 

He laughed and grabbed two bottles of water from the back seat, passing me one.

“Don’t drink too much,” I said.  “I don’t want to have to stop for any pee breaks.”

“I have to pee already, so you’re going to be stopping soon,” said Dave.  “Get used to the idea.”

The highway was lined with tall pine trees and brown brush.  The cold had already done a number on the greenery, turning it all the same dull beige.  We had to zigzag around quite a few stalled vehicles as we were leaving Concord proper, but as we got further away, the cars and trucks began disappearing, and the roadway was clear, aside from a stopped vehicle now and then.

“Damn,” said Dave.  “Look at that.  Turns out it’s winch time after all.”

The Toyota Camry was jammed up against a flipped minivan, and the vehicles blocked both lanes. 

Blood smears led from the passenger door of the van, which was the side facing upward, and it appeared something not quite dead, but surely not quite alive had crawled out of it months ago.

Light flurries of snow began to fall.

“Really?” I said.

“Jesus,” said Dave.  “Better get going.  If this roadway gets slick it’s going to be harder to get traction when we’re winching it.  I’ll go see if it starts.”

Since the Toyota was still on its wheels, it would be our best shot at clearing the road.  With the winch mounted to the front of the Crown Vic, it wouldn’t be too hard to spin it one way or the other, but we always took the easier route of seeing if the car would start.  Occasionally they would, but mostly the engines were never shut off by the distracted zombie occupants, or those running for their lives, and the fuel had simply run out.

Dave got out, the Daewoo across one arm, and went up to the car to try the door.

He jumped back and raised his weapon, seemed distracted for a moment, and turned away.  With his hand to his chest, he bent over and puked onto the roadway.

He stood there wiping his mouth on his sleeve, looking up the road – not at me – and finally walked back to where I waited in the car.

“Jesus Christ, Charlie,” he panted.  “There’s a fucking family in there.”

“No shit,” I said.  I got out of the car and opened the back door, reaching in for my Glock.  Close quarters, it was a better weapon.  We’d resolved not to leave any zombies alive.

He put a hand on my arm.  “It’s worse than that, Charlie.  “A . . . baby.  I think it was a baby.  Aw, Christ.”

I walked toward the car and Dave reluctantly walked alongside me.  As I approached it, I could see two faces, a male and female, pressing against the glass, hungering for us, black tongues licking, rotted teeth biting at the glass, fingers scraping the smoothness of it. 

I looked in the back seat.  The Evenflo infant seat was still safely buckled in.  In it was a pile of blood-caked bones and some matted, once-wispy hair.

I wanted to cry.  These two former human beings didn’t look like they were out of their twenties when they turned.  They’d been overtaken by the sickness, and in their terrible hunger, had killed and eaten their own child.

At least I hoped it had occurred in that order.

“Let’s go around to the other side.  I’m going to open the door,” I said.  “Shoot them when they come out.”

The husband was in the front seat and the wife was in the back, the infant seat placed behind the driver.  When we moved to the other side of the car, the creatures inside scrambled there, too, continuing their clawing, scratching and biting. 

The sun from the past few months appeared to have worked a number on them physically, and their skin was practically falling in sheets from their faces and arms.  Their fingers were skin with bones in them, and looking at their eyes, the very light pink film over them told us they hadn’t eaten in a very long time and had no capability to make the vapor that would send us into la la land.

I tried the door.  It was locked.

“Fuck it,” I said.  “I wanted to keep the car body part-free so you could sit in a somewhat clean seat, but here goes nothing.  You get the back window.”

We stood back and fired, Dave a two-round burst at the zombie wife in back and me, one quick round at the husband in front.  The windows exploded simultaneously, and the face of the wife zombie blew into a black-red chunk of head meat, much of it landing inside the Evenflo seat with her baby’s remains. 

The husband was luckier.  I’d blown off his ear, but he was able to crawl out of the shattered window as we moved back even further.  I held the Glock out in anticipation, and after he fell to the ground and crawled back to his feet, I fired, hearing Dave’s Daewoo at the same time.  The dead thing danced on its feet for two seconds as our rounds crashed into its body, and it fell backward, a gory mess of final death.

“Let’s get moving,” said Dave.  “The less you do this, the more fucked up it is when you have to.”

“You’ll get used to it again,” I said.  “This isn’t going to be an easy trip, I get the feeling.”

As if on cue, snow flurries began to flutter down from the grey sky.  I looked up, then at Dave.

He shrugged.  “Surprise, Charlie.” he said.

“It’s why I wanted to get going.  Who knows what it’s going to be like tomorrow morning.”

Dave went around to the driver’s side.  My round had blown through the glass on that side, too, so he reached in and unlocked the door, pulling it open.  He reached in and turned the key, and the Camry started up after two slow cranks of the starter.  He stood there looking down at the seat.

“What are you waiting for?” I asked.

“Piece of ear on the seat,” he said, his nose scrunched up as he looked at me over the top of the car,.  “And it stinks like shit in there.”

“Hurry, then,” I suggested.

He kicked the ear off the seat onto the floorboard, and sat in the seat atop the thick chunks of glass.  Dave put it in reverse and moved it back, scraping alongside the flipped minivan.  Seconds later the roadway was clear and we got back in the Ford.

“Cross your fingers,” I said.  “We need open road.”

“Say a prayer for the baby,” said Dave.  “I guess it’s not too late.”

I looked at him.  “I hope it’s not too late for prayers altogether,” I said.  I brought the car up to fifty and settled in, my windshield wipers wiping away the ever-increasing snowflakes.

****

We made good time into Vermont, and the road twisted and turned with rising hills on the left and valleys on the right, alternating with one another.  The snow never got so heavy it stuck to the roadway, and I was thankful for that.  It did settle lightly on the trees on each side of the highway, creating an almost postcard scene as we drove. 

The world was fucked up to be sure, but there was still beauty to be found if you could take the time to appreciate it.

“You could almost forget what’s happened,” said Dave.  “No zombies, no rats, no crashed cars, and you might think it’s all some screwed up dream.”

I looked at him.  “You got a piece of brain on your shirt,” I said.

“Fuckin’ buzz kill,” said Dave, rolling down his window and flicking the chunk of grey matter off his chest.  He took a tissue out of the glove box and wiped his finger on it. 

“Says we’ve got forty-five minutes into Shelburne,” I said.

“Charlie, we have to be careful.  No rushing in, guns blazing.  We’re not trained in that shit.”

“I know,” I said.  “Because zombies didn’t kidnap him.  These are straight-thinking humans who first of all, know how to fly a chopper.  And they snatched Hemp with lots of other guys around, so they
are
trained.”

Dave looked up.  “Thank God for common sense.  So,” he said,” we’ll stop when we get into town, find a place to hole up, and develop some kind of approach.”

“Don’t lie, Dave.”

He smiled at me, his mouth turning up in a crooked grin.  “Lie?”

“Yeah.  Don’t act like you don’t dig this.  I can look at you and tell that you’re someone who loves adventure, but rarely gets out there and has one.”

“I’m busy, Charlie, but I like stuff like zip lining and bungee jumping.  I even discovered I kinda like killing monsters.”

“Monsters,” I said.

“Yep,” said Dave.  “I figure that’s what they are.  I also think of it another way.  I’m doing a favor to the families of these things and to the creatures themselves.  I’m putting them out of their misery, and giving the families closure.   You know what it was like, right?  For Flex to see his sister that way?”

“Yeah,” I said.  “Flex acts like a tough bastard, but it was very hard on him to see Jamie like that.”

“What about you? Anyone you love turn?”

“Nobody I loved, but I did see my asshole cheating boyfriend that way,” I said.  “I’ve only seen someone I love killed by them.  I never want to see that again.”

“Well, no family member should ever have to lay eyes on someone affected like that.  No one should have to be afraid of someone who used to love them.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“I have a good feeling about this, Charlie,” said Dave.  “And maybe whoever has Hemp never intended to hurt him.  He’s smart, and they probably want his ideas and expertise, not his life.”

“They’ve taken
my
life from me,” I said.  “And that is goddamned unacceptable.  I want him back.”