Dead Hunger VI_The Gathering Storm

by Eric A. Shelman

  I wondered if it was similar to what children went through when the wild west was the destination of early settlers seeking their version of the American dream; wagon trains attacked, children and adults killed by the natives of the land who did not welcome the invading white men and women.

  I suppose they had as much a chance of talking themselves out of trouble as we did. Their children were taught that it was one of the hazards of their world, just as ours were told about the strange humans with pink and red eyes who hungered for their flesh.

  I’d rather have taken my chances as a child in the old west.

  Bug held Isis and I held Flexy, careful not to bump his new breathing tube, and Charlie held her little Max.

  They had always intended to name a boy Max to honor Max Romero, Hemp’s friend from the CDC whose death I detailed in my chronicle, and the man who had allowed us to take the very RV we were currently ready to escape from. Strangely, Isis had known his name before he was born.

  Had the baby been a girl, her name was to be Emma. Not after anyone – just because Charlie loved the name.

  Charlie was on her feet and I could see the pain in her face.

  “Are you okay, Charlie?” I asked. “Can you do this?”

  “I don’t have a choice,” she said. “Hemp needs to be ready to use his gun and there’s no way I’m letting go of my son.”

  “How’s your pain?” I asked.

  “I had a baby a few minutes ago,” said Charlie. “Worse still, I don’t think I dropped the placenta yet.”

  “Holy, shit. You are one tough bitch,” I said.

  “You want tough?” she asked me. “It’s a new world, Gem,” she said, a twinkle in her tired eyes. “When it does come out, I’m curing it and making a Bota Bag out of it.”

  I laughed out loud, mostly at the image in my head, and Charlie stifled her laugh. Probably either because it hurt or she was afraid a placenta flying out of her might be a bit more extreme than an accidental fart.

  Bug stood in front. “Everybody ready?”

  “Yes!” everybody yelled in unison.

  He stood back about two feet and kicked the door, which was already barely fixed in its frame. It ripped from its hinges and fell straight forward, landing so as to serve as a ramp and walkway over the first few feet of dissolving zombies who lay near and far, side to side as far as we could see in the darkness.

  I looked up and saw a beautiful sight comprised of my Flex and another man who could only be Punch, about ten feet from the door. They scanned the area and fired their weapons intermittently. They used three round bursts rather than full auto, clearly to preserve ammo, and dangling from their belts were two colorful super soaker water guns.

  Bug dropped out with Isis, walked across the door until it came to an end, and stepped into the gooey pile of dead walkers. The smell was horrific and assaulted me the moment the door fell, but I choked down the bile that threatened to force its way from my stomach.

  Punch and Flex kept their eyes on us, still alternately turning and firing at the red-eyes moving in. The prize the creatures wanted was now visible, and they came without regard for their own safety. Isis was a pull they could not deny, and I realized we were seeing the true intensity of the phenomenon for the first time.

  I let Dave and Nelson go first because they were carrying our girls, and I needed to keep an eye on them. Hemp went out next, his gun in the firing position, and his left arm around Charlie’s waist. He supported her through the sticky thickness at the end of the door until they stepped up on the piles of destroyed construction debris beyond.

  When I got to the end of the fallen door and stepped off into the biological scum, my feet sank into it and I nearly fell forward each time I attempted to pull one foot out to plant the other. The reek was more intense and pungent and I felt myself getting lightheaded.

  “Watch out!” yelled Nelson, who had turned around to watch my progress. He gripped Trina in his left arm as he did his best not to lose his balance and topple over into the slime at our feet. At first I had no idea why he had yelled, but even as he pressed Trina’s face into his shoulder, he brought his arm back and flung it forward, the silver Ninja star whizzing past us at a distance of around a foot, angled sharply upward.

  It was thrown so quickly I couldn’t follow its flight path, but when I turned to look at the top of the burning laboratory, I spotted his target. Even in the swirling, black smoke billowing from the rig, I saw the red-eye’s head whip backward.

  When a sudden gust of wind blew the smoke away from her for a moment, I briefly caught her red eyes as they faded to black. The creature that had been standing atop the collapsing mobile lab, likely ready to leap on me and my child, fell and plunged through the roof, crashing into the interior of the rig, blasting sparks out the door as she hit bottom.

  I must have been staring as though in a daze, because the next thing I remember is Flex taking me by the arm and pulling me along. I held onto my son, careful of his new, plastic appendage, and went to Flex.

  “Hurry, Gem,” he said, not mincing words. “You go to the SUV and lock yourself in,” he said. “You and Charlie and all the kids. Here, take this.”

  He passed me his Glock.

  “What are you going to do? Come with us,” I pleaded.

  “We gotta finish this,” he said. “I want every last red-eye dead and gone. This estrogen blocker shit seems to do it, so no time like the present.”

  “I love you, Flex.”

  “Hurry,” he said. “God, it’s good to see you two.” He peeled the blanket away from our son and gasped, seeing the pen sticking from his throat. He looked at me. “Gem, what happened? Is he okay?”

  “His throat was blocked from the Diphtheria. You have the antitoxin, right?”

  “I do,” said Flex.

  “Then he’ll be fine,” I said. “For now he can breathe.”

  He kissed his son on the cheek and kissed my lips briefly. “Go,” he said. “Be careful.”

  *****

  After Gem and our boy were out of the mix of things, I monitored the others. As Doc Scofield moved to step down onto the door, his ankle twisted and he fell forward, rolling off the door and into the slime.

  I threw the Daewoo over my shoulder and ran up to him, pulling him up. I got him back on the ramp and past the dissolving zombie bodies.

  “Thanks, Flex,” he said. “You boys got here just in time.”

  “Earlier would have been better. Get to the truck with Gem and them. You can’t help with that ankle.”

  “I’m sorry, man,” he said. “Didn’t want to let you down.”

  “You deliver Charlie’s baby?” I asked.

  “I did,” he said.

  I patted him on his slimy back. “Then don’t apologize because you’ve had a good day, Jim. Now get over there.”

  He hobbled off and I realized that Dave, Nelson and Bug must’ve heard my instructions to Gem because they were running with the girls in their arms toward the Land Cruiser. Doc Scofield was soon behind them.

  Everyone heading for the Land Cruiser had to skirt around the fallen tree branch that had prevented us from driving in closer, but I watched them until they all reached the truck.

  Lola ran up beside me breathing hard, her long knife in her right hand and a Glock in her left. “I’m gonna do what I can, Flex,” she said.

  She stood there in front of me, her look unwavering, her blonde hair a crazy mess. Her red eyes held their own luminosity. I hadn’t known her long, but I understood she had been a literal lifesaver to Dave and the rest of them in California.

  I turned to fire at another red-eye who had appeared around the corner of the lab, the roof of which was now fully engulfed in orange-yellow, licking flames. I knew we had to get clear of it, because there were propane tanks inside that would blow as the fire progressed.

  “Care to elaborate?” I asked, shielding my eyes from the flames that turned Lola into nothing more than a silhouette against them.

/>   “That big field over there,” she said, pointing. “Behind the lab. I can try to draw them in there, and you can get a firing squad together to take ‘em all down.”

  “You’ll be fighting Isis’s pull,” I said. “Can you compete with her?”

  “I did before,” said Lola. “Not at her advanced stage – I mean, she wasn’t freaking talking back then, but it was only a week or so ago. So yeah. I’ll try.”

  “Okay, but if shit gets sketchy, I want you to hightail it to my Toyota and get safe with the girls.”

  “Not really my style,” she said, spinning her knife in her hand. “I’m a take action kinda girl.”

  “So was Gem,” I said. “Sure you’re up to it?”

  “I’ll get to the field and call them,” she said. I asked no further questions, because Lolita Lane ran into the night, now ablaze with brightly burning flames.

  From the corner of my eye I saw Serena pulling both of our huge dogs by their collars toward the Land Cruiser.

  I hoped there would be room for them.

  I searched the yard. Gem’s car was nowhere in sight. I pulled my radio from my belt.

  “Gem,” I said. “Where’s your car?”

  She came back almost immediately. “Don’t worry about that!” she said.

  “I need it to put the dogs in,” I said. “They’re comin’ your way, but they can’t fit in the SUV with you guys.”

  “Shit, Flex, it’s on the other side of the mobile lab, but it’s probably on fire,” she said. “We’ll fit them in.”

  I didn’t answer her. I ran on the outside edges between the melted zombie bodies and the rubble from the house, and cut right. I saw Hemp about fifty yards to my left, and spotted a huge horde of red-eyed females moving toward my SUV.

  I had to abort my plan. Hemp was forty yards to my right. I called to him, waving my arms.

  He looked over at me and called, “Yeah, Flex!”

  I pointed at the advancing red-eyes. “Flank ‘em on their right side! I got the left! Dave, if you can hear me buddy, get that Crown Vic away from the mobile lab if you can!”

  I lowered the radio and yelled into the night, “Punch! Where are you, Punch?”

  The wind carried my words away as they fanned the flames before us. I ran toward Hemp and as I rounded the corner of the mobile lab, I saw Lola charging toward the open field. I hoped she would begin her call soon. Things were getting out of control. I had no idea where Nelson was.

  I ran, my lungs burning, until I was about fifteen feet away from Hemp. He had been firing constantly, but at that moment his gun fell silent. I looked around and realized that the many red-eyes who were near us just minutes before were gone.

  Vanished. Of course. They were hiders.

  The wind had turned and the smoke shifted direction, now billowing toward our driveway and the SUV where Gem, Charlie and the children had retreated for refuge. The pungent, black smoke made it impossible to see not only where the intelligent females had gone, but the SUV itself.

  *****

  Jim Scofield had gotten to the truck last, so we were able to tuck him into the very rear of the SUV, still allowing room for others I hoped would make it to the vehicle.

  It appeared that floor mats had been taped up over the front seat side windows, but I could also tell the glass was gone, so despite the fact that they limited visibility, we left them in place.

  I was in the front seat holding Flexy, and Charlie sat in the middle with her newborn baby in her arms. She looked utterly exhausted. She was quiet and morose; so unlike my friend.

  “The child is there,” said Charlie.

  My heartbeat stopped and I stared at her.

  “Charlie, are you okay?”

  Tears rolled down her face and she held her child closer to her as though someone might take Max away from her.

  “Charlie, it’s okay,” I assured her. “You took the wafer. You’re fine.”

  I could do nothing more than put my arm around her and let her know that I was there for her. Always.

  I glanced in the back seat. Both girls stared out of the window into the dark, smoky blackness, their haunted eyes reflecting the flickering, distant firelight.

  A pounding came on the rear driver’s side door, but we couldn’t see out because of the heavy tint. Trina leaned over to unlock the door.

  “No, Trina!” I shouted, but it was too late. The door flung open and to my relief, Bunsen jumped in, landing atop Trina and Taylor, followed by Slider. Serena followed the dogs, pushing with all her might to stuff them in and jump in herself. She yanked the door closed behind her.

  “I’m sorry!” she said, hardly able to speak, her voice raspy. “There’s so much going on out there that nobody focused on these guys!”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” shouted Trina, hugging the dogs’ necks and crying. Taylor was also in tears.

  “I dropped my goddamned gun so I can’t go back out there,” said Serena. “Did you see Dave anywhere?”

  “No,” I said. “Not since we got in here, but we can’t see much of anything.” I got on my radio and pushed the button. “Flex!”

  There was no answer. I transmitted my message anyway. “Jim, Serena and the dogs are in with us!”

  He didn’t respond. The tension within the vehicle was palpable.

  Right after we’d gotten to the Land Cruiser, Bug had run up and deposited Isis with us, who now stood on the driver’s seat holding onto the steering wheel, peering through the gap in the shattered windshield, that for some reason was fortified with what appeared to be the missing third-row seat from the Toyota.

  The thick smoke from the blazing RV blew directly toward us, killing our visibility. With half a windshield, the reeking soot was drifting into the interior of the cab, and it was hard to breathe. We might as well have all been blind.

  The wind suddenly shifted again, clearing the heavy smoke away for the moment. As if by divine intervention, a break in the clouds above us allowed the faint light of the moon to illuminate the area in front of the Land Cruiser.

  Nothing but rubble spread out before us except for the distant, leaping flames from the RV fire. I let out my breath. With the heavy smoke, I had been blinded. With it gone, I felt far more at ease.

  Charlie seemed to have calmed. I slid my arm from around her and retrieved my Uzi from the floorboard. There was a Glock down there, too, but I knew I would not fire either one with two babies so close to me.

  With a sigh, I placed the Uzi back on the floor and started on what might have been my fiftieth prayer of the longest day of my life.

  Suddenly the scene before us changed from marginally serene to intense.

  I gasped as directly in front of us, no more than twenty feet away, what had to be a hundred red-eyed females rose swiftly to their feet.

  Charlie’s hand gripped my wrist.

  “Jesus, Gem, you see that?” asked Scofield from the back of the Land Cruiser. I adjusted the rear view mirror to see his eyes, wide, alert and frightened.

  The monsters before us appeared organized – at least for them. Standing almost in an army marching formation, shoulder to shoulder, five zombies wide and maybe twelve or thirteen deep all in a row, the horde of red-eyes now advanced on us.

  Aside from the differences in their clothing and heights, I could not have told one from the other.

  I hit the headlights on the SUV, turning on the high beams in an effort to blind them with the light. Perhaps they didn’t utilize their vision in the same way humans did, for they did not seem fazed. Now that I could see, however, it struck me that some of the bulges in their stomachs appeared to have been almost full term pregnancies at the time of their deaths and conversion into evil; others were in indeterminable stages of gestation.

  “Mothers and Hungerers,” said Isis. “Mothers want me,” she added. “Hungerers want us all.”

  With that, the red-eyes moved in with a fluid motion, separating into two groups that began surrounding the SUV.
r />   I reached up to pull the handle of the AK-47 on top of the Toyota, but Charlie stopped me, her eyes still red, but now sharp and focused.

  “Gem, you can’t shoot them!” she screamed. “The boys might be in the line of fire!”

  She was right. I lowered my hand and situated Flexy in my arms, desperation in my heart, my brain racing like a freight train. “Girls, eyes on your knees, now!” I shouted. Then I turned toward the strange, beautiful infant standing in the driver’s seat.

  “Isis,” I said, feeling my heart pounding in my ears. “Can you stop them? Can you send them away?”

  “I can send them nowhere,” she said. “But if I can allow them to see me, I can reveal to them who I am not,” she said.

  “What do you mean, who you are not?” I asked.

  “As I said before,” she said. “They believe I am their child. If I see them, as with the Mother in the basement, I can show them.”

  At that very moment, something changed. The many dead women before us started to turn away. As she watched, Isis smiled. “Lolita Lane calls them,” she whispered.

  “Lolita –” I began, then realized it was Lola. I had heard what she did in California.

  “Where is she?” asked Charlie. “I don’t see her anywhere.”

  “Oh, she’s out there,” I said, as the army of rotters turned their backs to us. “Thank God.”

  *****

  Chapter Seventeen

  I heard a thud and a grunt behind me and turned to see Punch pulling himself and his shotgun from the sticky zombie waste that coated the ground. It was a mixture of clothing, shoes and mottled bones mixed with the slimy, melted residue of those who once utilized them.

  He got to his feet and joined me, Hemp and Nelson.

  “What happened to you?” I asked, as he attempted to squeegee the slime from his clothing with one hand.