Dead Hunger: The Flex Sheridan Chronicle

by Eric A. Shelman

  *****

  Hemp pressed play on the DVD player and the flat panel LCD monitor showed the gurneys. It was split screen, as there were two cameras and that’s how Hemp manipulated the recording.

  One camera was behind our heads and high up, angling down at our faces. I still had difficulty looking at her, the non-stop jaw-moving, the black tongue visible behind the rotting teeth.

  It was not, and is not my sister any longer, and in my heart I knew it was true. Even recovery, if it were possible, would leave her a vision of horror to her only remaining child. I would not, I knew, do that to either of them.

  The other camera showed us from the foot of the gurneys, and showed our bodies in their entirety.

  And that was the moment I turned my head to face her, and she turned to face me. I could see on both camera views the sheer vapor, its coral-colored mist seeming to become more dense and visible on the screen, rising from her eyes.

  And then, with her face looking directly at me, her mouth movement intensifying, the mist seemed to become a spray, but in slow motion, such as a fog machine would billow it out. The lights were dimmed further in the room.

  “I dimmed the lights to see if the eyes created the phosphorescent glow, or if the mist carried the properties on its own.”

  “Wow,” said Gem. “It’s the vapor. That’s why her eyes weren’t glowing before, when she hadn’t eaten, right?”

  Hemp nodded. “It seems nourishment, either from food eaten just before death or anytime after entering this state, is what is required for this particular component to trigger. It may evolve, too. Perhaps it increases in potency as they consume more food.”

  “Brains,” I said. “Not food.”

  As we watched in silence, the directed mist overtook me, nearly engulfing my entire head. Suddenly, the image of me on the screen shuddered from head to foot, my neck straightened, and I was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.

  Conversely, Jamie’s body twisted and pulled against the restraints, her back arched to the extreme. Her arms and legs strained against the straps so powerfully that they cut into her rotting, ever-thinning skin. Around these gouges that would never heal, from beneath the straps, a blackish-red ooze leaked out and soaked into the white sheet and pad between her and the gurney.

  And then, as soon as the desired effect had been achieved, the spray-mist slowed, then stopped. My eyes had closed, and now my body was limp, my breathing slow, my chest barely rising and falling.

  The mist over my head dissipated slowly, the red cloud dissolving into nothing. I was out cold.

  “You see, Flex,” said Hemp, “it’s as though she knew that the creation of the mist itself weakened her, so when it was no longer necessary, in other words, because you had succumbed, she stopped it.”

  “Fuck me,” Gem said. “That means they can think. Like in that house, Flexy. The fact that they knocked all those people out to fucking eat their brains when they pleased tells us they know what they’re capable of.”

  She snapped her fingers. “Unless it’s instinctive, like a puppy searching for its mother’s nipples right after being born.” She shook her head in disgust at her own idea.

  “You have something there,” I said. “Right after they’re born. These creatures are essentially born, aren’t they? Hemp, could it be a transformation, complete with instinctive knowledge, like Gem said?”

  “I’ve thought about it a lot,” said Hemp. “Because as you know, I don’t think of much else these days. But I searched for examples of it in nature, and about the closest thing I can come up with would be a comparison to a creature that morphs into something else on its own, such as a caterpillar into a butterfly, that instinctively knows how to fly even though it’s never done so before.”

  “Jesus. I’m glad these fuckers can’t fly,” Gem said. “That would pretty much make me throw in the towel.”

  “I guess I’d start practicing my trap shooting,” I said, taking Gem’s hand. “Hemp, when will your testing of the vapor be complete?”

  “Looks like it’s winding down. I should have the results by tonight or tomorrow.”

  I nodded. “Good. I can tell you, and you probably experienced the same thing, there aren’t any real after-effects. I didn’t feel hung over, no headache, nothing. So whatever it is, it keeps you out until someone shakes you awake, but once you’re awake, you’re fine.”

  “Exactly,” Hemp confirmed. “Except for the fact that the entire event seems to be fading from my memory. Though I know I did, I don’t remember going into the stockroom anymore at all. No real memory of walking to the door, opening it, and then seeing the abnormal.”

  “Fuck it,” I said. “Zombie.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, anyway. I just said abnormal.”

  “Do you think pushing the vapor like Jamie did weakens them for a time?” Gem asked.

  Hemp considered the question. “She was straining very hard against the restraints, so there is effort involved. When Flex was out, she stopped and dropped back to the bed, fairly motionless. So I’d say the answer’s yes.”

  “So they’d be vulnerable. I wonder if they have enough strength to vapor two people in rapid succession. Or at the same time,” Gem said.

  “We got a lot of shit to figure out,” I said. “But we don’t know what’s important and what’s not.”

  “Anything that can help us cure them, kill or otherwise defeat them is important, and right now, the more we know the better. Period. Even if we learn things that don’t seem to help us, every piece of information is part of the puzzle, and ultimately, the solution.” Hemp shrugged.

  “If there is a solution,” said Gem.

  “Yes. If there is one.”

  “God, I hope there is one. I’d like my world back.” Gem took my hand and pulled me up out of my seat, then put her arms around my neck and kissed me there. I wrapped my arms around her and closed my eyes.

  I had her. No matter what happened, I had my Gem. And whatever battles lay ahead, we would fight them together.

  Hemp, Charlie, me, Gem, and Trina.

  And Bunsen.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN