Dead Hunger III: The Chatsworth Chronicles (19 page)

“What, Flex?”

“We’ve got a spray bottle of urushiol in here, Hemp.  I want to see if we can . . . I don’t know.   Help this guy.”

I knew what he meant.  After checking to make sure there were no live – rather moving – rats in the trunk, I reached for the spray bottle what was only about 1/64
th
urushiol.  I shook it, turning toward the man, who’d laid his gun on the ground and sat there, panting.

“I don’t know, Flex.  The solution we used on Gem was pure urushiol oil.”

“Hemp, it’s better than nothing.”  He looked at the women in the car, who were staring out at us, desperation on their faces.

“
Rip your shirt off, quickly now,” I said.

He didn’t hesitate.  He tore his shirt off and I sprayed him all over, rubbed his wounds with the towel, then sprayed him some more.  Half an inch
from the wound, the dial turned to stream.

“What is that?”
the man asked, his breathing staccato.

“It might be something that keeps you from turning into one of those things you carry that gun for,” said Flex.

“Anywhere else they bit you?  Your head, under your hair?”
I asked.

“I don’t think so
,” he said.
 
“
Just on my chest and neck, and my hands.”

“Hold up your hands.”

He did.  I sprayed his hands.  “Rub them together and
keep doing it.  I can’t promise you anything, but I can say you’ve got a better chance now.”

“Mister, why are the rats attacking?”

“Because they’re as dead as the people that attack,”
I answered. 
“And just as hungry. 
Do you have a family?”

He nodded.  “My boy’s dead, but my wife and daughter are at home, gardening.”

“Get there now
and
get them inside.  Then
do whatever you can to seal up any cracks beneath your doors.  If you have a basement, seal the cracks there, too.  If you have a safe room, get in there.”

“Oh, my God,” he said.

“Exactly,” said Flex.  “C’mon, Hemp.  We gotta go.”

“You got a radio?”

“Yeah,” said the man,
unclipping it from his belt
with badly shaking fingers
.

“Get on it and tell as many people as you can what I just told you to do.  We’re heading to see Mayor Reeves.”

“Yes, sir . . . thanks.”  He picked up his gun and ran, holding the towel to his chest.

We jumped back into the car, which I’d left running, and I hit the gas.  I got us to the
governor’s mansion
in another three minutes
.  The guards rolled back the cars and let us in, and we parked beneath the trees closest to the steps.

The rain, very bad just moments before we left the cemetery, had cleared the streets of most civilians, but when we saw people rolled down the windows and yelled at them
to run for their lives,
g
et to a building, and seal themselves inside.

Gem had quit sobbing, and had her window down, warning people of the danger along with me, Flex and Charlie.  I knew it wouldn’t take her long to work her way back to the needs of the immediate world. 

“Are these really dead rats that are alive
now
, Hemp?”

She never called me Hemp.  It was sweetie or honey or baby, but never Hemp.  I knew she was scared.  My punk rocker was scared, and that scared me just a little more than I was
before
.

“They’re
alive
,
Charlie.  You saw what your urushiol-tipped arrow did to that one.  The one we saw.  It exploded.”

“There aren’t enough arrows,” she said.

“There aren’t enough of us,” said Gem.

We were silent for a moment.  The moment seemed to stretch to infinity.

“
We
just don’t know how many there are
yet,” I said.  “And we don’t know
if they’re
the same as the abnormals; if they’re
going to constantly
be
on the hunt.”

“Hemp.  This is wor
se than the zombies,” said Flex.

I nodded. 
“What I do know is we need urushiol, and we need it fast,” I said.  “We need to find the plants, and we need to get to the brewery.”

“Before we go to the fucking brewery,” said Gem, her teeth gritted, “We’re going to the house to get Trini and Taylor and Dave and Lisa. 
And
the dogs.”

“That was always my plan,” I said.  “Family first, as it should be.”

I looked outside the car and saw no black pavement rushing toward us.  The rats were distant, for now.

“Let’s get inside, guys,” I said.  “And bring your guns this time.  And the urushiol we do have.”

“I lost my gun,” said Gem.

“We have another Uzi,” said Flex, touching her wrist.

She looked at him.  “It’s not Suzi,” she said.  “But I’ll fucking train her right.”

“Yeah, you will,” said Flex.  “Here.”

She took the spray bottle that was half full. 

“It’s set to stream, babe.  Shoot from six feet, you’re good.”

We mounted the steps to the Capitol Dome and Reeves met us at the top.

“What the hell happened?  Word’s already gotten around!” he said, his face panicked.

“Keep the basement door closed,” said Charlie.  “Don’t go in there.”

“It’s closed,” he said.  “What is this about rats?”

“They’re . . . they’re reanimating,” I said.  “And they crave what the zombies crave.”

He stared, his mouth hanging open.

Whit and Dan walked up beside him, followed by Jacko.

“Guys, this is serious shit,” said Flex.  “Serious enough that if we don’t get our solution made in a hurry,
Concord
is done.  Every one here, and that includes us, is done.”

“What the fuck you mean done?” asked Jacko.

“Dead as fuck,” said Gem.  “You, too.”

Jacko was suddenly speechless.

“I need to know where to find poison ivy, oak or sumac in town.  And I need it in a big hurry.”

“There’s lots of poison ivy off Little Pond Road, by
Walker
State
Forest
.  There’s hiking trails there, and we had to approve signs warning people away from the stuff.   Kids were getting it on them all the time.”

“How far?” asked Flex.

“Ten minutes, max.”

“Is it near the cemetery?” asked Gem.

“Southwest of there,” said Whit.  “Why?”

“You don’t want to go there,” said Flex.  “Nowhere near there.”

“You need help?” asked Jacko.

“All we can get,” I said.  “Bring a dump truck if you have access to one, and men wearing long sleeves and gloves.  We’re going to need more vehicles to move enough people.”

“And get some people to the brewery,” said Flex.  “We need someone to be cleaning out one of the stills.  Empty the beer and any other materials out of it so we can use it once we get there.”

“You guys go to get the stuff,” said Gem.  “Flex, give me your gun.  I’ve used it before and I’m comfortable with it.  Kev, you got another one for him?”

“Sure, we have plenty,” he said.

“Okay, no argument, Flex,” she said.

He looked at her for a moment, then put his hand behind her head, pulled her face to his, and kissed her mouth. “I love you, Gem.”

“I know you do, Flexy.  Let’s execute this goddamned plan.  I don’t like being afraid.”

“I’m going with Gem,” said Charlie. 
“We’ll see you at the brewery.  We’ll supervise.”

We didn’t argue.  I kissed her goodbye and we separated for the moment.

I missed her the second she was out of my sight.

****

We’d left the
governor’s mansion
in a Hummer that Reeves had been using, and drove to an equipment yard about a half mile away, protected by a 12-foot fence.  Large dump trucks and other construction vehicles were parked in several rows.

Reeves jumped out first and began organizing the other men who’d showed up at the yard.  Then he ran to a small metal building, opened the door and hit a switch.  A motor started, and we saw a large generator shake to life just outside.

“The guy’s definitely in charge,” said Flex, impressed with Reeve’s ability to mobilize the people of
Concord
.

“That he is,” I said
.

Reeves waved us over and slapped the side of a newer looking dump truck, and said, “This is a good one.  Needs some fuel, but the newest truck in this fleet.”

They had a pumping facility and underground tanks, along with plenty of area tanks from which they could drain to refill the ones at their headquarters.  Reeves
told us they’d probably only exhausted 15% of the tanks in town so far, and had dumped
gallons of stabilizer
in the remainder to preserve the integrity of the
fuel within
.

I filled the tank.

“I’ll drive
this
,” Flex told Reeves as he jumped
behind the wheel of the Hino
, smiling down at me
.

I shook my head and looked up at his smiling face.  “Fucking John Wayne.”

“Get over it,” he said.

“My guys are ready to roll,” said Reeves.
 
“When you’re done, p
ull
it to the gate and one of the others will lock it up.
”

The filler valve clicked off.

“That’s it,” I said.  “Full.  Let’s go get that greenery.”

As I jumped into the cab, the radio on the seat between Flex and me crackled.  “You guys read?”

I picked it up.  “Hey, Charlie.  Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine.  We’ve got everyone.  Are there people at the brewery yet?”

“Yes.  Kev sent them over, and I think Whit and Dan are there supervising, along with some others.”

“What’s the address?  We’ll plug it into the GPS.”

“Charlie, what did you say to . . . did you say anything to her?”

Charlie’s voice became softer.  “Flex told Dave and Lisa, but no.  Just that they’re not here.”

“Okay,” I said, dreading the moment we had to tell
Taylor
her mother was dead.  We were all still reeling from it, and would be for a long time.

“Plug in
119 Old Turnpike Road
, zip is 03301.”

“Got it, Gem?”

“As we speak,” came Gem’s voice.

“We got it.  Good luck, guys.  And be careful.”

“Wait,” came Gem’s voice again.  “Flex, you there?”

I pushed the talk button and held the radio to Flex’s mouth.

“I hear you, babe,” he said.

“I’m okay,” she said.  “I love you.  Be safe.”

“You will be okay, Gemina Cardoza.  Back atcha.”

We signed off and drove behind the other vehicles, our weapons on the seat beside us.

I liked being in the big truck.

****

I got on the radio again. 
Reeves
and the others who would be assisting in the harvest of poison ivy were
in
two
other
vehicles.  We’d agreed to use channel 19 on the handhelds.

“Come in, Kev,” I said.  “We need to detour.
  You read?
”

He came on.  “
I’m here. 
Just say where.”

“I need to get some of our extinguishers from the mobile lab at the house.  They’re charged up and we have a good amount of urushiol mix in them.”

“Aren’t guns enough?”

“If we were only dealing with zombies, then yes, I’d say it would be fine.  But the rats . . . there are some enormous numbers, and they’re low to the ground.  It takes an extraordinary amount of ammunition to kill just a few, and I’m afraid with what we face, we need to utilize the oil.”

“Good call,” said Flex. 
When I pull up, you jump out and get ‘em.”

Reeves knew where our house was, because he was the one who recommended
it
.  He drove straight there in his Hummer and we followed.  Flex pulled the rig to the edge of the lawn nearest the motor home and I got out.

I retrieved three of the extinguishers and tested one.  The gauge was in the green, but a quick blast, and I knew we were okay.

But I didn’t like the stream.  Too narrow.