Dead Hunger VI_The Gathering Storm

by Eric A. Shelman

  “What is the rate?” I asked.

  Hemp shook his head. “Anywhere from 5% to 20%. Dependent upon age.”

  “Younger’s worse, right?” I asked.

  Hemp knew better than to paint shit with pastels with me, and said, “Let’s just say we’ll need to remove the infected girl and her mother from the house right away as Jim suggested and set them up somewhere else.”

  “What about my guest house?” asked Jim. “Nobody’s in there, plus it’s clean. I didn’t have anything to do so I got it ready for company.”

  I didn’t wait. I slid the door open and went into the living room. I felt every muscle in my body as tight as a drum, and none of them would unwind until I got on the road to find what we needed to protect my son.

  “Raylene, we have a situation here, so do me a big favor and save any questions,” I began. “Let’s go ahead and get Gina up, and you’re gonna go with Doc Scofield here.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, violating my first mandate.

  Hemp came in and knelt down beside the girl. She was stirring, and Hemp ran his hands gently up and down her legs until she winced. He looked at me briefly, then turned his attention back to the child, sliding up the pant leg on the leg that caused her pain.

  I looked in horror as an oozing sore appeared beneath her clothing. It looked like a bloody crater made of raw flesh.

  “This settles it,” said Hemp, nodding to me and Doc Scofield.

  “Oh, my God!” screamed Raylene at the sight of the dripping, pus-coated lesion. Her cry was all it took for Gem to come charging into the room.

  “What the hell’s going on?” asked Gem.

  Hemp looked at Gem but said nothing. He had already pulled the girl’s pant leg back down, so she hadn’t gotten a glimpse of the horror that, left untreated, could come to our son.

  Still on my feet, I staggered backward, steadying myself on a table. “Hurry, Hemp,” I gulped.

  Hemp nodded and scooped up the little girl. He said nothing to Gem, just carried her out the front door with Raylene on his heels, crying. Doc Scofield followed them outside.

  I heard gunshots almost instantly.

  “What the fuck!” I shouted as I ran to the porch. Scofield had dispatched a male rotter who had been just outside the porch. Another one.

  “Everybody needs to get on the fuckin’ WAT-5,” I yelled. “Jesus!”

  It seemed every piece of shit for miles around had hit the fan today. Our friends and family had come home, the zombies started traipsing in like goddamned homing pigeons and a kid with Diphtheria had now infected our house.

  “Flex, tell me what the hell is going on, please,” said Gem, her brown eyes piercing and stern. She wasn’t asking. The please was just a courtesy because she loved me.

  “I know, Gem, and I will tell you,” I said, sweat pouring down my face. “First help me drag this goddamned couch out of here,” I said, running to the back door and sliding it open all the way.

  “Why?” she asked. “Just tell me, Flex!”

  I struggled to pull the couch myself, and felt myself spiraling out of control. I wanted to spare Gem the horrible knowledge of what might be as long as I could.

  “Gemina, if you want to know what’s going on, just help me!” I screamed. “Where’s Flexy?”

  Now her near-angry expression turned to fear. She knew me better than I knew myself. I never raised my voice to her unless we were in grave danger.

  Her voice responded in a whisper. “In the nursery, sleeping.”

  “Is he okay?” I asked, looking her in the eyes.

  “What the hell do you mean, is he okay? He’s fine, Flex. What the hell? You’re scaring me to death!”

  “Couch first,” I said, lifting one end. She got behind it and pushed, and I pulled it effortlessly to the door. When I got it onto the wood deck outside, I lifted it over the rail, ran around to the back side, and flipped it over, where it fell four feet to the sloped ground below, rolling away from the house.”

  “There,” I said. “We’ll burn the motherfucker later.”

  “Flex!” said Gem. “Enough of this shit, and tell me what the hell is going on!” Her eyes now burned into me like open flames, and I went to her and pulled her into my arms. I felt her rigid body, none of the tension leaving her, despite the forced embrace.

  I let go of her, walked to the table and sat down. She followed, her instincts telling her I was ready to share what I knew.

  With one hand, I pulled out a chair for her, but as she reluctantly moved to sit down, I stopped her.

  “Hold on. This involves Bug and Isis, too,” I said, “I’ll figure out how to put this, and you go get Charlie and Bug. Tell him to leave Isis with Trina and Taylor for now.”

  “Is this you stalling?” asked Gem.

  “No, this is me bein’ short and sweet. Once I’m done, I’m leaving.”

  “Flex?” she said, sounding helpless. “What is it?”

  “Get ‘em, babe,” I said. “Hurry.”

  *****

  Hemp had gotten Scofield, Raylene and Gina on their way, and had come back inside the house. He sat beside me, and Bug, Charlie and Gem sat across from us. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Hemp glanced toward the vacant space that the couch once occupied.

  “Good,” he said. “I was going to suggest we do exactly that.”

  “Hemp,” I said, “You think you can tell these guys what’s going on without freaking them out? ‘Cause I don’t think I’m gonna be too good at it.”

  Hemp nodded and looked at the others. His expression was serious, but not as grim as what I figured mine looked like.

  “I take it you’ve all heard of the disease called Diphtheria,” he said, looking at the others.

  “Diphtheria?” said Gem, incredulous. “Wasn’t that eradicated? Like Polio?”

  Hemp shook his head. “Controlled through immunizations, like Polio. One of the standard childhood boosters.”

  “Isis hasn’t had any shots,” said Bug, his brows furrowed together as he rubbed his beard in a very familiar, Dave-like way.

  “I suspected as much,” said Hemp.

  “Is everyone susceptible?” asked Gem, her stare intense, her brown eyes open wide.

  Hemp shrugged, and immediately held up his hands. “I’m sorry to shrug. I am confident that if you had your course of vaccinations as a child, you are protected, but as you know, as Bug said, we have some new members of the world here with us.”

  Charlie sat there listening, her hands resting on her stomach, as round as a beach ball and so ready to pop you could bounce a quarter off it. It wasn’t like her not to ask questions, so I knew she was scared shitless.

  “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” said Bug, jumping out of his seat and pacing back and forth. He stopped and turned back toward us. “I leave my damned bunker, surrounded by hundreds of zombies and shit, and walk into this? My girl’s at risk now?”

  “Bug,” said Hemp, his voice soft and even, “I understand how you feel. Out of the frying pan and into the flames, so to speak. We’ve become a close group, and that includes Dave. You and Isis mean a lot to him, therefore, you automatically mean a lot to everyone here.”

  “Okay, I get that,” said Bug. “But how does that change what happened and what we do about it?”

  Hemp sighed and put his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his clasped hands as he looked at all of us. “Only by letting you know that Isis is as important to all of us as Flex and Gem’s son and our future child. Believe that. And know that I’m not without ideas here, so let me get through this, and we’ll formulate a plan.”

  Bug nodded and glanced toward the hallway where I knew Isis played in a room with the other kids.

  Hemp turned to Gem. “Gem, try to remember that this is nobody’s fault. If blame must be assigned, you should look right here, at me.”

  “I’m not trying to blame anyone,” she said. “I’m worried as shit, that’s all. And why would you take the blame anyway?”r />
  “Shit happens,” said Charlie, breaking her silence. “And I’m not sure why I need to say that, considering what’s been hunting us for over a year now. Nobody’s to blame, least of all my husband.”

  “I know that, sweetie,” said Gem. “Sorry.”

  Charlie nodded.

  Hemp continued. “The reason I say to blame me is because we’re such an isolated group I hadn’t considered that we needed the immunization supply in advance of our children’s births. You can’t vaccinate newborns anyway, and I thought we could wait until Charlie gave birth.”

  “And I realize none of you anticipated my girl,” said Bug.

  “Little Flexy is just reaching the very minimum age to receive some of his vaccinations,” said Hemp. “Isis can have them now, of course.”

  Gem’s expression softened. “First of all, is it an absolute that everyone who isn’t vaccinated against Diphtheria will get it?”

  “It’s highly contagious,” said Hemp. “In multiple ways. The girls didn’t come out and see Gina, so they may be okay.”

  Charlie got up and walked toward the hallway. “I’m going to make sure they don’t leave that room.”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” said Hemp. “Isis was exposed and she’s with the girls now. The good news is, both Taylor and Trina are well within ten years of their Diphtheria immunization, so they’ll be just fine.”

  “Isn’t it too late to vaccinate once it’s been contracted?” asked Gem.

  Hemp gave her a weak smile. “Diphtheria is very treatable with antitoxin.”

  “Which we get where?” asked Gem, her hands clutching one another nervously.

  “The CDC mandates stockpiles in strategic areas around the country in the event of an outbreak, so from here, I believe the closest location would be the Hospital of the Carolinas in Charlotte, North Carolina.”

  “I don’t want to be an asshole,” I said, “but what if there’s not any when I get there?”

  Hemp looked at me like he hadn’t considered that.

  “Yes, good point,” he said. “Flex, the next closest stockpile would be the Beaufort Naval Hospital, but I’d guess it’s over 200 miles from here.”

  “I’m going to the closest place first,” I said. “How far’s Beaufort from that Carolinas hospital?”

  “We’ll map it all out before you leave,” said Hemp. “With alternate routes, too, in the event of road blockages.”

  “Vaccines and shit need refrigeration, right?” asked Bug. “Gotta stay cold? Doesn’t that mean most of that crap went bad right after the power went out?”

  Gem’s eyes turned to steel. “Hemp?” she said, staring at the professor.

  “Yes to most vaccines, no to the antitoxin,” said Hemp. “The Diphtheria antitoxin is freeze dried,” he said. “It’s kept in vials and is activated with saline.”

  “Can it go bad?” asked Gem.

  “Yes, but it has a long shelf life, and I’m certain all the supply in Charlotte wouldn’t be on the cusp of going bad.”

  “Hemp,” said Gem, worry in her voice. “What about the other vaccines our kids will need? You said yes and no. Will they be viable? Can we get them at the same time?”

  “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to be able to give this answer,” said Hemp. “And a couple of years ago, I would not have had good news.”

  “Spit it out, buddy,” I said, fidgeting.

  “Dr. Scott Cooper, whose lab is within the hospital facility in Charlotte, North Carolina, has been working on a breakthrough that has been long deemed crucial in societal collapse situations such as this. His goal was to develop extremely stabilized strains of all available vaccines that can withstand heat or freezing. In the past, refrigeration was required to maintain the viability of all vaccines. If the temperature of the vaccine fell below freezing or heated beyond a certain level, they became ineffective.”

  “Did he do it?” asked Bug, optimism in his voice.

  “It is my understanding that he was successful, using the same process across the board,” said Hemp. “I am not familiar with the details, as I wasn’t directly involved, but the FDA was reviewing his work and I understand they were close to approving it for mass distribution.”

  “And I assume this is significant because he had his residency at the hospital I’m heading to?” I asked.

  “Cooper has a lab at the Hospital of the Carolinas,” said Hemp. “And an office. I would guess he also has a supply of the vaccines we need.”

  “That is wonderful news, Hemp,” said Gem. “But let’s get back to the Diphtheria, since that’s what’s scaring the shit out of me now. How long does it take to show symptoms after you’re exposed?” Gem asked.

  “Gem, sometimes there are no symptoms,” said Hemp. “I don’t want anyone getting a false sense of security.”

  “Oh,” said Gem, “I don’t think anyone’s all too secure about anything these days, so don’t worry about that. But with or without symptoms, what are we talking about?”

  “Anywhere from one to four days,” said Hemp. “and I’m glad you got rid of the couch. “The germ can live outside of the body for a time. Not long, but long enough, so I want a bleach wipe-down out here, and any loose blankets –”

  “Burned,” interrupted Gem. “Fire is what we do with any loose fucking blankets.”

  “Okay, besides you, who’s going to get the antitoxin?” asked Hemp.

  “Me,” I said. “Just me. I don’t want anyone slowin’ me down, and I’m goddamned motivated. I go alone.”

  Gem stared at me. “Flex, that’s bullshit.”

  “I think it’s obvious that you’re staying here with our son,” I said. “I’ll take a truck with a winch. We got that Land Cruiser that Hemp tricked out with the cow catcher, a heavy duty winch and the AK-47. I’ll be fine.”

  “Take my Crown Vic,” said Gem. “Nothing can get in there.”

  “Too low to the ground, Gem,” I said. “I need something with a higher suspension and four-wheel drive.”

  Hemp had perfected the original design of the Crown Victoria and my first Suburban, and he’d fabricated some magazines with enormous capacity. The winch on the Toyota was bigger than any we’d used before, and it had a nice cow catcher, too. It was the vehicle to take and I had no doubt of that.

  “You have to take someone,” said Charlie, standing in the hall. We hadn’t noticed she’d returned from the bedroom until we spoke.

  “How are the girls?” asked Gem.

  “They’re fine,” said Charlie. “Flex, you need someone to watch your back. Buddy system, remember.”

  “Well, I’m not taking Hemp, because he needs to be here with Charlie. I’m not taking Dave or Nelson or any of the new crew because they just got home. I can do this, Gem. I can.”

  A knock came on the door, only it wasn’t so much a knock as a frantic pounding.

  I ran over and grabbed my gun again, then checked the peephole.

  I pulled the door open. Tony Mallette’s big, white teeth met me, but there was a look of alarm on his face, not a smile.

  “You see all these fuckin’ zombies out here, Flex?” he asked.

  I leaned outside. Two were dead just on the edge of the property line. I saw another two moving in the distance, on their way.

  “I didn’t hear you shoot ‘em,” I said.

  Tony held up a silenced handgun. “I didn’t wanna bother anyone,” he said. “Used my suppressor.”

  “And yet you’re here, botherin’ us.”

  Tony’s eyes flashed, and his expression turned from pleasant to angry. I pulled the door open wide.

  “You fall for my shit every time, Mallette,” I said, forcing a smile. “Get in here. We got some bad news.”

  “It’s been a while since we seen numbers like this, Flexy,” said Tony, stepping inside.

  “I’ll explain that later,” I said. “You up for a road trip, Tony?”

  “With you?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. It’s important.”
>
  “Who else?” asked Tony. His short-sleeved shirt was buttoned from just below his solar plexus, down. He’d removed most of his gold chains, but still wore two or three rope chains, and a serpentine with dangling, Italian cornicello, an amulet designed to ward off the evil eye.

  I shook my head. “Nobody. Just you and me. We could have a big storm to deal with and we need speed over numbers.”

  “When do we leave, brother?” asked Tony, the smile now spreading over his bright, white caps. “I like road trips.”

  “As soon as you grab your shit. We should be back in a day at most, but bring enough for two or three.”

  “What are we takin’?” he asked.

  “The Land Cruiser.”

  “I’ll be back in half an hour,” he said. He spun on his heel and jogged his leather work boots back to his Harley, threw his leg over, fired the engine and spun gravel as he left the yard.

  I watched as he withdrew his gun again and rode along the dirt and rock road, close to where the straggler rotters were advancing. He braked, put his feet down, and took each of them out with well-placed shots to their brains. The red-black mist pluming from their shattered skulls was visible from my vantage point at the door.

  “He’s a good guy, but he’s a trip,” said Gem over my shoulder. “He’ll be great to have along.”

  “Feel better?” I said, turning to put my arms around her and close the door with my boot.

  “Not until you’re both back,” she said. “With that antitoxin shit.”

  “I know how important it is, babe. I’ll be careful and I’ll get what we need. I won’t come back without it.”

  “It’s my biggest fear,” she said in my ear, her voice a whisper.

  “It can’t match my biggest fears, Gem,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”

  *****

  Chapter Three

  Hemp had pulled out some of the CDC maps he’d gotten from Max Romero, and while they were excellent and told me where we’d run into hills and various other terrain, they weren’t tight enough for us to determine where to navigate around any road blockages.