“Who?” she insisted, and he saw the fear – the pure, cold fear – in her eyes. The melee going on around both of them was nonexistent to her. She gripped Flex’s shirt with her hands, her face pale with worry.
Flex could not think of another lie fast enough for the understandably worried mother.
“Flex, who’s gone to get her?” insisted Jill, shouting over the gunfire and screams.
Flex raised the empty Daewoo and slammed the butt into the head of an abnormal whose ragged fingers nearly clawed into the side of Jill Richman’s neck. She didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes bored into Flex’s. “Please tell me!”
Ramona Martine, a brown-eyed, blonde, zombie killing badass who rivaled Gem and Charlie for the pure enjoyment she got out of executing rotters, emptied the magazine of the Colt 9mm sub machine gun, filling in where Flex had left off. She had arrived in town four years earlier. She was only in her late twenties, which meant that she had been doing this stuff since before she was a teen.
She had apparently overheard at least part of their conversation and understood Jill’s angst. She marched up to Jill and took her by the arm. The worried mother turned to stare at her, startled.
Ramona said, “I know you and I haven’t talked much since I got here, Jill, but I can tell you that whatever can be done to bring your little girl back is being done. So if you want Flex working on that instead of talking to your ass, I highly recommend you calm the fuck down and come with me, now!”
With that, Ramona turned and winked at Flex, pulling Jill into the stairway corridor and into the tunnels below.
Not very subtle, but effective, thought Flex. He called after them, “We’ll get her, Jill!” He silently thanked Ramona for rescuing him, and prayed that his promise to save Lily wasn’t another lie.
Flex ejected his empty magazine and slammed a full one home.
As the rest of the attacking horde tore into the bodies of the living, the floor became slick with blood and gore. Flex looked down to see Reeves’ upper body sticking out from under the door, a Mother tearing open his neck, her hands clawing at his flailing arms. Flex slammed a new magazine into his Daewoo and fired into the zombie’s head, shattering its skull.
Kevin Reeves was unconscious and doomed by more than just the bite wounds; his body was crushed beneath the heavy door. Gritting his teeth, Flex fired the next round into Kevin’s forehead. The man who had been so crucial to organizing both Concord and Kingman was dead.
Permanently.
“Uncle Flex, c’mon!” shouted Max, and as his eyes blazed red – a sign that he was using every power afforded him by his unique condition – the horde was seemingly frozen for just a moment. He and Isis were clearly utilizing whatever telekinetic abilities they had remaining to stop the abnormals’ advance, if even for a moment.
This break gave more people the opportunity to push through the narrow tunnel entry into the stairwell, and Flex saw Dave and Serena move down and disappear from view, their son Ben in tow.
Dozens lay dead around him. Perhaps fifty or more.
“Dad, you too!” Max called, and Flex watched as Hemp heeded the warning. Hemp slid past his son and Flex fell in behind him. Isis was beside Max now, her eyes glowing with a light all their own as she joined Hemp’s son in utilizing whatever strength they had left to hold back the frenzied creatures.
As Flex hit the corridor behind Hemp, he saw both of them follow behind. The screams of the eaten and dying echoed in his ears even as their cries faded behind him.
Flex took the steps, then stumbled, falling over several bodies that had obviously been trampled as they tried to make their escape. When he came to rest at the bottom, Hemp was beneath him.
Hands gripped him and pulled him back up with ease and he was surprised to turn to see Isis holding him up. Max had his father, who had also fallen to the stone floor.
With a powerful shove, Flex found himself staggering toward the flowing channel of water. His feet tangled and he went over the edge, landing in the cold water. The swift current carried him several feet before he found a handhold and grabbed the edge, finally getting his feet beneath him. He crawled out and rolled onto his back, breathing hard.
Flex struggled to his knees and saw Max and Isis trying to force the pivoting stone door closed. Bodies, some dead and others undead, jammed in the narrow stairwell, blocking it. Flex recognized several people they had known well.
The crowd in the tunnels had run in all directions, and the screaming voices now seemed to come from everywhere.
The two powerful Hybrids gave up with one last effort. The winding corridor leading down from the bunker was stacking up with Hungerers. With one last, powerful push, the pair got the door to within six inches of its sealed position, crushing the head and arm of one advancing Mother with a crack and a splat. It did not close completely, however; as they moved away it swung outward again as more rotters tried to push through.
Flex grabbed a bucket of pure urushiol oil and slathered a brush with it. With several flips of the bristles, the caustic oil served its purpose; the zombies’ skin melted, running down their skeletal frames like crayons melting in the sun as it oozed to the tunnel floor.
A voice rose above the others: “Run south! Everyone. Follow the water flow, keep up and don’t stop!” It was Isis.
Most listened to her; some didn’t. Dave Gammon appeared to have moved past his grief temporarily and Flex saw determination in his eyes as he and Serena guided people in the right direction. Their son Ben, armed with his .22 rifle, also helped others follow Isis’ instructions.
It wasn’t clear how many had died upstairs and in the stairwell, but all that mattered now were those still alive. Flex searched for Gem.
He didn’t see her.
“Gem!” he shouted, raising and firing his Glock, transforming the face of a rotter moving out of the corridor into bloody pulp.
“Flex, I’m here!” her voice came, but it was strained. He followed it and saw her sitting down behind an outcropping, her Uzi in her hands, her eyes wild. Colton sat beside her, his eyes red from crying.
“It’s okay, Colt,” she reassured the boy. “Flex, help me up.”
Flex crouched down and helped her to her feet. He held out a hand to Colton, who raised his eyes and took it. Flex pulled him up and hugged him. “You doin’ okay, cowboy?”
Colton nodded.
“Sure?”
“I was worried about Gemmy.”
“She’s fine, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he asked.
“I’ve just got a little pain,” she said, tousling Colton’s hair. “Promise I’m okay.”
“Really?” asked Flex, leaning in.
“Not so much,” said Gem. “I hit the wall when I went to pull Colton away from one of those red-eyed bitches, and now it’s hard to breathe. Just needed a quick break. Where are Trina and Tay?”
“They’re fine,” he said. “They came back down here to help some of the others before the bunker door came down. Shit, woman, you might’ve punctured a lung or something.”
“Is Kev … did he make it?” Her expression told Flex she already knew the answer.
“No,” said Flex. “He was under the fucking door when it fell in. Let’s get you moving. Easy, babe, okay?”
As he and Colton moved through the panicked crowd with Gem between them, Flex’s eyes searched for Jill and Ramona. When he reached the front of the group and rested Gem on the stone floor, he saw them.
Ramona, to her credit, had stayed with Jill. She eyed him and nodded.
Flex nodded back and mouthed a silent ‘thank you.’
Gunfire echoed through the stone chamber in such volume that it sounded like thunder, the noise disconcerting. Flex’s ears rang with each shot, and shouted commands by Isis and Max were mostly lost to all of them, he was sure.
Fortunately, the young pair had successfully pushed as many survivors as they could from the breached bunker above into the stairwell before it became impassable.
/> As the harried crowd of perhaps only fifty remaining people stumbled south through the tunnels, Dave, Flex, Charlie, Trina and Taylor brought up the rear, firing on the advancing horde.
They were outnumbered, but with the Mothers dead for the time being, the horde of dying zombies shambled slowly enough forward that the gap between them grew to a couple hundred yards.
Flex needed time to make a plan to save Beauty and the others.
*****
Flex’s mind was burdened as he considered how to make it back to the clinic. He thought it might be easier to go alone, but Gem would freak out. She’d want him to take a squad.
As if by telepathy, Charlie stopped and grabbed Flex by the arm. “Oh, my God,” she said. “Flex, if it’s like this down here, how are we ever going to get to Beauty and the babies?”
Flex nodded. “Damnit, I know. I’m tryin’ to figure it out.”
The remaining refugees traipsed in the general direction of the river, moving just fast enough to maintain the distance between them and the advancing horde. Every man, woman and child looked ready to collapse from exhaustion.
“Where’s Scofield?” asked Charlie. “Is he at the clinic, too?”
“No idea,” said Flex. “Gem?”
“I haven’t heard,” she said. “God, I hope he’s okay.”
“So now we’ve got a huge zombie problem here, plus we don’t know where Scofield is and we still have to figure out how to rescue the folks at the clinic!”
“We need to get to the clinic first, Flex!” said Charlie. “What must Beauty be thinking?”
“I know,” he said. “And I know Punch drove Doc Scofield to his house to gather some supplies, but Kev said Punch dropped him off. Now he’s missing.”
“He didn’t … get killed up in the bunker? You’re sure?” asked Charlie.
“God, no,” said Flex. “Nobody saw him up there.”
Without much hope, Flex scanned over the heads of the crowd with his eyes, his expression one of worry. “If anything happens to any of them …” he said, trailing off.
Jill pushed through the crowd and stormed up to stand in front of Flex. “Show me how to get out of here. I’m going to get my daughter!” she cried.
“No, you’re not,” said Charlie. “We’re putting an experienced team together and we’re going to get her. When we do, we’re bringing her to you.”
“I’m going!” shouted Jill. She wore a Sarasota, Florida baseball cap over her short-cropped hair, and her face was puffy from anger and fear.
“My ass you are!” said Ramona, pulling her away from Flex and the others by her arm. She hustled her away, speaking to her as she did so. Flex couldn’t hear what she was saying, but Jill didn’t fight her. He called out, “We’ll go get her, Jill!”
“That goes without saying,” said Gem. “But we need to have some idea where Doc is.”
Charlie shook her head. “I haven’t seen Jim in hours,” she said, worry in her eyes. “They were on every radio channel up there trying to direct everyone to safety,” said Charlie. “He never called in.”
“Yeah,” said Flex. “Knowing the doc, he probably let someone else have his radio. We know Beauty didn’t have one. Just the main PA, which has been quiet for a while.”
“This is a fucking mess!” said Charlie, raising her crossbow and letting another arrow fly. It pierced the head of a lone, gray-haired, female zombie with a face like worn, saddle leather. She toppled into the channel of water and quickly flowed past the crowd ahead of them.
“There goes the water supply,” said Charlie. “Shit!”
As they ran backward, another tunnel appeared on their left as the main north/south corridor appeared to stop at a solid wall. The rotters behind them continued to advance.
“Flex!” shouted Hemp. “We’re coming up on another dead end! If you guys can give us some breathing room, we’ll work to find the access!”
Flex nudged Charlie and Dave. Just as he was about to call Nelson to assist, he saw his longhaired friend kiss Rachel and his daughter, then turn to run toward them.
“I’m here, dudes! What’s the plan?”
“Hold on just a second, Charlie,” said Flex. Just pick off the ones that get close.”
She nodded and Flex pulled Nelson aside. “Nel, I hate to tell you this, but we don’t know where your grampa is right now. We’re hoping he’s with Punch, but we also have Beauty and the Hybrids at the clinic. You’re gonna want to go.”
Nelson’s face went white. “Yeah, I’m going,” he said. “Flex, you think he’s alright?”
“He may not be the best fighter, but he’s one of the smartest men I know,” said Flex, squeezing Nelson’s shoulder.
The worry wouldn’t leave Nelson’s eyes, but he said, “Okay. Let’s do this, Flex.”
Flex turned toward the advancing throng of walkers. “Okay, everyone,” said Flex. “Lay down a healthy barrage and give those guys behind us some breathing room. When you think you’ve taken out enough, take out more!”
Charlie had a Saiga like Punch’s that she opened up, boom after boom, the buckshot turning the advancing undead bodies into spinning, human-shaped dreidels of flying blood, brain and bone. With Gammon, Trina and Taylor by her side, all blasting the dancing, dead crowd, Flex swept his Daewoo in wide arcs.
In mere seconds, all the advancing rotters were harmless, twitching body parts.
“Got it!” shouted Hemp, and Flex turned to see Max and Isis pushing open the stone panel, revealing an endless tunnel snaking into the darkness beyond.
Before anyone directed them inside, the frenzied crowd pushed through and began to run.
“Help one another!” shouted Hemp, frustration in his voice.
Continuing to step backward, keeping their eyes on the merging corridors behind them, they reached another fork jutting off to the west. There was no door on that passage. A new channel for the flowing well water also diverted in that direction.
Trina spun around and said, “You guys said Punch was at the bank building?”
“Yeah, when we last talked to him,” said Nelson. “Not sure about now.”
“Would this be the system that would get us there?” asked Taylor. “I think I know what you’re thinking, Trini.”
“That makes sense, but he was on the roof, not in the basement, right?” asked Flex. “Once we get somewhere these radios will transmit, we’ll need to try him.”
Flex cut into the offshoot and ran several steps, inspecting the new, low-ceilinged tunnel system. “Yeah, it keeps going! Max and Isis, you two continue south until you reach the Armory, and I’m beggin’ you, please don’t let Gem leave!”
“You promise me you’ll be careful, and I’ll promise not to try to escape and find your ass!” shouted Gem.
Colton turned. “Yeah, dad! Be careful!”
Flex smiled briefly and waved everyone else behind him.
Hemp, Charlie, Trina, Taylor, Nelson and Dave followed. It was a crew that Flex could rely on. He pulled a baggie of WAT-5 from his pocket and counted out six doses as he ran. The baggie was empty.
Flex knew he had to save the people he’d forgotten. If he didn’t, he could never forgive himself.
*****
The tunnel seemed to go on forever, but it also grew darker, the ceiling tapering down the farther west they went. Flex had his headlamp on, but the battery was dying and it now barely illuminated the darkness ahead of them.
“Stop!” shouted Nelson. “Flex, back here!”
Everyone had stopped. Nelson was third in line behind Taylor, and he now crouched down, touching a symbol. “Here’s that sunny eye thing,” he said.
“All-Seeing Eye I think,” said Dave. “Stand back then.”
Isis had told them to look for darker gaps in the stone that might indicate an access panel. They all moved away from the wall and trained what was left of their light on the stone sides.
Trina stepped forward. “Here,” she said, running her finger along a darker v
ertical seam. “Now just how to open it.”
“Fingers in your ears,” said Charlie
“What about you?” asked Taylor, but Charlie fired the shotgun before the words were out.
Flex felt it reverberate through every tooth in his mouth. “Shit!” he said.
“Shit yes!” said Nelson, moving forward to plant a solid kick beside the gouge the shell had made. The door pivoted, and a new corridor appeared. Ten feet in, it became a winding corridor of stone steps.
“This is it!” said Flex. “You go first, Charlie. Good job.”
“I spotted the thing, dude,” said Nelson.
“Then you next,” said Flex.
Nelson could be somewhat morose when he was worried, and it was clear that his mind was on his only blood relative besides his daughter, Lita.
Flex had heard Lita begging Nelson to let her tag along, but when Nelson glanced up at Flex, he’d shaken his head no. Things were unpredictable out there, and the kids were the future, not only of Kingman, but of the planet.
Whitney Houston had never been more right.
Nelson nodded at Flex and moved in behind Charlie. The rest of them followed. When they reached the stairs, they all began to climb up.
On the stone door at the top, a rusted padlock hung from a solid steel hasp.
“Stand back,” said Charlie.
Everyone backed down several steps.
“Be careful you don’t go flyin’ backward, girl,” said Flex.
“Yes, do be cautious, Charlie,” said Hemp. “You don’t know what’s behind there, either.”
Charlie planted her ass against the side wall and held the Saiga out. The explosion filled the narrow stairwell.
Dave Gammon, who was third in line, yelled, “Watch out!” but it was too late by the time the words left his mouth.
Dust, dirt and bodies tumbled through the moment the door was breached; Charlie went down first, staggering backward like a head bowling pin taking out all those behind. An avalanche of bodies seemed to fill the narrow stairwell; arms, legs, heads and boots, along with weapons and ammo seemingly flying everywhere.
Dead Hunger_The Cleansing Page 15
