“C’mon,” said Charlie. “I think he’s worried.”
*****
They recounted the entire experience to everyone inside Sarah’s place. Koko had joined Nelson, and Manuel had taken a seat, too.
“So, fire?” asked Koko.
“We know it works,” said Nelson. “They’re kind of trapped in the woods, so if we start it from multiple spots all around them, they’ll be surrounded by flame.”
Hemp looked around. “How many people did you say you lost?” He directed his question toward Sarah.
Nelson spoke up. “Seventeen.”
“Yes,” said Sarah. “How did you remember that?” she asked.
“He does that,” said Flex. “I wonder what Kingman’s dealin’ with. If we got ‘em here, outside Lula and Athens, they’ve got ‘em, too.”
“The question is how many survived?” said Hemp. “The percentage. We did many calculations in the old days, trying to determine how many pregnant women there would be at any given time, such as when the apocalypse struck the first time.”
“That’s not a number we can ever decipher,” said Isis.
“And without that number, we’re shooting blind.”
“It never really made a difference anyway, guys,” said Taylor. “We came across them, we killed them. All knowing what you’re facing does is freak you out.”
“She’s kinda right,” said Nelson. “What does it really matter?”
“I’d just like to get on the ham radio and send word out. Missing people did not likely move on to greener pastures,” said Hemp. “They’re either wandering the pastures, or they’re lying in a pit among them.”
“Where the hell did my cheerful scientist go?” asked Charlie.
“Let’s get some rest,” said Hemp. “We’ll want to set the fires during the daytime, so we’ll need to make our way back through there to determine how far they’re spread out in the forest.”
“There are more,” said Flex.
Everybody stared at him.
“I didn’t say I knew where they are, I just mean to say if there’s this group, there’s more. Maybe millions more. The worst kind. The smart ones. Weak as they are, who knows what kind of smarts they have when they first slip outta those damned holes.”
“He’s right,” said Hemp. “Like a full battery, the light is very bright at first, but it dims with each passing second. Best to be most cautious when they first emerge. Something to remember down the road.”
“Is it our job to hunt them down if they’re not a threat to Lula?” asked Trina. “I mean, I miss the occasional scrum with the zombies as much as the next girl, but I also kinda liked just hanging with Jax.”
“Oh, Jax’s gonna have a cow,” said Nelson. “He hates killing junk.”
“He’s a pacifist,” said Trina. “It’s not a crime, and it’s not like he’s the first one.”
“He’ll be the first one dead if he doesn’t figure his shit out,” said Flex. “Sorry, Trini. Nelson used to try not to hurt them too, with his Subdudo shit. He came around.”
“Still alive!” said Nelson. “Learned some lessons along the way. I can have a long talk with Jax.”
“Good luck,” said Trina. “Your long talks with Jax usually involve weed.”
Nelson looked at her and shrugged with a smile. “Your point?”
Trina shook her head. “Disenchanted, I guess.”
Flex looked at his niece, who was really his daughter, for all intents and purposes. He loved her every bit as much as he’d loved his son, Flex Jr. He knew she’d been struggling in her relationship with Jax, whom they’d picked up along the way from Kingman to Lula. She was still fast to defend him, though. That was just the goodness in Trina.
She’d fallen for the boy fast, but his strong opinions about pretty much everything had worn on her. Trina was used to last-second decisions and taking risks, and it was how she and the rest of her family had survived.
Jax, with hair the length of Nelson’s but not nearly as blonde, never stopped battling to change her into everything he was. He’d lived with his grandparents in a huge mountain cabin in northern Colorado since he was three years old. Having lived with them from such a young age caused a strange dynamic and he often referred to them as his mom and dad. As they’d all gotten to know Jax better, they finally understood why he occasionally fluctuated between referring to them as mom and dad, and grandma and grandpa.
His parents had divorced and moved across the country from one another, and both were so intent on beginning their new lives with strangers, that when his grandparents offered to let Jax live with them permanently, both had agreed. He’d asked for his parents for a while, but his grandparents had always made excuses; never talking ill of his birth parents. The saddest part of his life was when he’d learned neither one tried to take him after he’d been adopted despite numerous attempts by his grandparents to reach out to them.
He had no idea where they were now, and he acted like he didn’t care. Trina knew he did.
Most of his insecurities rooted there, she was sure. Those insecurities manifested in strong opinions without any real balls to back them up. She’d tried telling him that you can feel strongly about something, but if you lay down and let people walk all over you, those opinions mean nothing. If you’re not willing to fight for what you believe in – sometimes physically – you may as well not have any opinions at all.
Jax and his guardians were living in the large cabin when the news reports started to show up on the television. They had satellite TV, a huge propane tank, a massive water storage tank, a heavy stock of extra fuel tanks of all kinds in a large storage shed, and tons of food when the outbreak hit.
All the extra food and fuel was because his grandparents ran a ski vacation resort with 22 log cabins spread over a sixteen-acre property.
He’d maintained the cabins, each with its own underground propane tank, and they were all full at the outset, ready for the next season. They had survived over the years by moving from cabin to cabin, living meagerly, and keeping an eye on the expiration dates of canned and other foods.
But ultimately, his grandmother got food poisoning of some kind, and when his grandfather left to run down to a pharmacy near the old ski lodge, he never returned.
He risked leaving his grandmother, who was in her mid-eighties by this time, in her bed. She was delirious, but he locked her inside and headed down.
It wasn’t two miles from the house he saw the guardrail broken. Any tire tracks were long gone, but he pulled over immediately and stared down at the old blue-green Ford Ranger pickup truck. It was upside down.
His grandfather was underneath it, his upper body exposed, his jaws masticating as he stared up at his grandson, 25 yards above him.
Jax told Trina it was one of his two greatest regrets; he left his grandfather there, unable to put a bullet in his head.
Worse, by the time he arrived back at guest cabin #14, his grandmother had turned. She had not been able to walk before, but now she was on her feet, walking in circles and emitting a horrible growling.
Both of his grandparents – the last of his known family – dead in one day. Or at least that’s how it seemed to him, even if his grandfather had died days ago.
He’d simply moved to a different cabin, leaving her there. He remained isolated from the world until the apocalypse ended, and the only zombies he ever encountered he did not fight.
They were family. They were the regrets that tore at his psyche.
“He’ll come around. If he doesn’t, then maybe I won’t anymore,” said Trina. “And I don’t want to talk about that from here on out. Let’s figure out what to do with these damned Red-Eyes.”
“Right,” said Nelson. “I mean, you’re not a psychotherapist.”
“Nelson,” said Taylor, punching him in the arm.
“Whoa, unnecessary violence.”
“Unnecessary gum flapping.”
*****
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They also had chickens and some hogs, so the eggs, bacon and coffee left the entire crew not wanting to leave. Flex insisted on trading them a full ammo can for feeding the group.
“Let’s blow this firetrap,” said Gem. “Feel like I’m doing the walk of shame, wearing the same thing I had on yesterday.”
“It was sexy then, and it’s just a little bit sexier today,” said Flex. “And correction, Gemina. We’re goin’ to make a firetrap, not blow this one.”
They headed down to the trailhead and a larger contingency of them made their way deep into the forest.
Nelson led, and he stopped. “Whoa. This isn’t good.”
They all stared at the hundreds of holes. “It’s the same as when we left,” said Hemp. He turned toward Manuel. “Are you certain they only emerge at night?”
“Hell yes, I am,” he said. “No clue what’s going on.”
Flex looked at everyone, then looked at Koko. “You know what town’s nearby?”
“That way?” asked Koko. “Place called Covington. I actually hit that place on my way north before I found Athens.”
“How many people were there?”
“Maybe forty, fifty. Not sure I saw everyone. I only stayed a couple of days, feeling the place out. I didn’t feel welcome … you know, everyone had pretty much carved out their place.”
“I know how a community can get,” said Flex. “Not us, but protectionism ain’t anything new.”
“Why do you ask, husband?”
“Because we can’t just go back. If they left here, they went somewhere. If it’s Covington, they might need help.”
“Good thing I brought this,” said Sarah, holding up the ammunition can Flex had given her. She put it back in her cart.
“Why did you bring it?” asked Gem. “Because right now, I’m thinking you’re a girl after my own heart.”
Sarah laughed. “When I’m going into the belly of the beast – no pun intended – I prepare. You all brought your gear.”
Koko swung his Mossberg shotgun around. “Same here.”
“We can’t take golf carts into a battle,” said Dave. “Let’s head back and take the roads in.”
“Further down it’s a foot trail only anyway,” said Manuel. “Plenty of daylight. Let’s backtrack.”
*****
“Think we should’ve burned it anyway?” asked Gem.
“Why?”
“In case they do come back. Maybe we misread the situation.”
“Manuel’s never seen the holes before, aside from the pit. They seem too smart to leave them exposed if they’re planning on comin’ back.”
“Planning?” Gem looked sideways at him as she drove.
“The Red-Eyes plan. We know that. They strategize. Just because they died and came back and died and came back again, doesn’t mean they lost a step that way. The holes tell us that.”
“There was that car auction place you guys went into,” she said. “Where they marinated the men.”
“Exactly,” he said as they pulled into Athens proper. “Let’s make fast work of this. I want to get back to Lula by tonight.”
“Me, too.”
They all headed out, and everyone checked their weapons to ensure they were locked and loaded. Koko led the caravan with diesel vehicles converted to bio-diesel like all of theirs. Driving down the road, the convoy smelled like a huge basket of French fries.
*****
“Oh, shit,” said Koko over the radio. “Whoa.”
Everybody drew to a stop and put their vehicles in neutral or park.
They had come into town on Highway 81, and only hit one pile-up of rusted out vehicles they had to skirt around, right by Emory Oxford College.
The 81 turned into Alcovy Road, then Elm Street North, and finally, when it intersected with Floyd Street, the shit show began.
Bodies lay everywhere. Their clothing had been ripped or torn away to expose the flesh beneath. Women, men, children.
Body parts stripped of most of their flesh were scattered in all directions. There had been no hesitation.
Just hunger. An insatiable hunger the group had not seen for several months.
The buzzing of the flies told the rest of the story and that made Gem pull a bandana over her nose and mouth. Seeing that, everyone who had similar gear did the same.
“Isis, you remember how many people in Covington, Georgia?” asked Dave.
“There were right around 13,000 people in 2009 when the first wave hit. If 90% of them changed, that leaves only around 1,300 originals, and who knows how many of them died? The breakdown was very typical. 100 females to around 88.5 males.”
“Truer than ever before, I’d imagine,” said Flex.
“What is?”
“The half a male statistic. Ages?”
“Over half the population was either below 18 or 25 to 44 years old.”
“I would imagine this new breed of Red-Eye is a more careful, opportunistic creature,” said Hemp. “Providing she can still harness the power within their brains as before. They would not waste pregnant women – they would change them rather than consume them.”
“Fresher and stronger?” asked Nelson.
“Exactly. If there’s a hierarchy in their ranks, the elder Red-Eyes would likely put them in their place quickly, let them know who’s boss.”
“We need to do a search,” said Gem. “See if there’s anyone to save, or if the bitches are hiding out here.”
“We can’t torch the entire city,” said Trina, looking around. “This is a lot bigger than I pictured.”
Taylor said, “We shouldn’t split up and go house to house. If they’re alive in there, and if they’ve ever experienced the Red-Eyes before, they know they’re nocturnal now.”
“Good point,” said Sarah. “I brought sandwiches. In the back of my truck in the coolers.” She leaned into her cab and began honking the horn.
“Good idea,” said Nelson. He got in the car and fired the engine. Skirting around Sarah’s vehicle, he drove down Floyd Street honking the horn.
Everybody reached into the cooler and pulled out quartered sandwiches, watching him. With a cheek full of bread, Trina said, “Nobody coming out.”
“Nelson’s doing a count of the bodies,” said Max.
“How do you know that?” asked Dave.
“Because that’s what I’d do.”
Sure enough, Nelson turned down a street to the right. A few moments later, he drove back and crossed over Floyd, driving west down the same street. The blaring of the horn grew louder and softer, echoed, then didn’t, as he made each turn.
By the time he pulled up and parked, his face was grim.
“Why were you honking?” asked Taylor. She glanced over at Sarah, too.
“Bring out the living,” said Nelson. “Zombies don’t honk horns. Sadly, none came.”
“What did you see?” asked Trina.
“So many kids. Boys and girls. Lots of men, too. Way fewer women.”
“They’re taking them then,” said Isis. “They would far outnumber the others. How many altogether, Nel?”
“I counted 337. Some were in pieces, so it was harder. Some are gnawed down to bone.”
“They were starving,” said Hemp. “They may require many hours of immersion in the earth gas to gain enough strength. That time would allow their hunger to increase exponentially. If that’s the case, it’s an advantage for us.”
“It’s like they’re vampires now,” said Nelson. “Right, Koko? I mean, they have to sleep during the day. Maybe they’re still here.”
“They are still intelligent,” said Koko. “Or we would have known about them far sooner. Most of our gathering and scavenging occurs during the daytime, so we would not have encountered them.”
“Not unless we walked right into one of their lairs,” said Dave.
>
“We can’t search this entire town to find where they are,” said Sarah. “And we can’t burn it down – that’s been established. So, what now?”
“We hole up and wait until tonight,” said Flex.
“Think I saw a Super 8 Motel by the Waffle House on the way in,” said Gem. “If it’s not too moldy, I think I’ve got some quarters for the vibrating bed,” she added with a wink.
“You people might enjoy all of this just a little too much,” said Koko, smiling as he shook his head.
“These are my people,” said Nelson. “Like you, only more … aggressive.”
“I’d like to do a bit more scouting,” said Dave. “Not going in anywhere, but a horde the size of the one that did this had to leave a trail of some kind.”
“Hey, me and Koko will go with,” said Nelson. “Koko?”
“Sure. Any opportunity to spend time with my old friend,” said Koko, dropping the Mossberg into his hands.
*****
After satiating their hunger with every living being they encountered, Lilith and her following horde moved to the southwest, reentering the forest west of Covington, Georgia.
Her body, as were those of the thousand or so others behind her, was coated in coagulated blood. Her fingernails were caked with skin and dirt from their recent kills and from digging their burrows over the several darks and lights they spent replenishing their strength in the forest floor.
The feeling here, in this place, soothed her. Her mind worked in slow images, bringing forth the remaining knowledge of the world – her old world, long before she was changed.
The words on the sign meant nothing to her, however. Had she been able to comprehend the words that read, PEACHTREE HOT SPRINGS, it still would not have led her down the trail.
But it was a trail, and it was before them. The area before them, surrounded by thick forest and appearing deserted, called her to move onto the path. There were signs of their prey here; railings, wooden decks with dilapidated old chairs, clumps of trash and plastic stacked up against the bases of trees.
Dead Hunger | Book 10 | The Remnants Page 9
