Dead Hunger II: The Gem Cardoza Chronicle (25 page)

“Really?  Mangoes?” I asked.

“Yes, and also cashew nut shells.  But it’s still not possible for everyone to have become infected from direct contact, even assuming something has happened to the makeup of the plants to cause this reaction in people.  Plus we’ve got the digger phenomena.”

“Maybe the oils soaked into the earth with all the rain?” asked Charlie.

Hemp shook his head.  “Still wouldn’t happen like this.  But to me this is the first evidence that immunity to urushiol – the biological T-cell arrangement in one’s body that prevents it from affecting that person – is what is preventing us – part of the 10% – from becoming one of them.”

“So,” Charlie said.  “Of over three hundred million people in the
United States
alone –”

“Two hundred and seventy million of them could be infected,” finished Hemp.  “With roughly thirty million like us.  That’s a lot of killing to do and bodies to dispose of, too.”

“Hey, you’re like a sick Dr. Seuss,” said Charlie.

“Thirty million like us minus the people who’ve been killed by them,” I said.  “I’d hate to be in
New York
fucking City right now.”

“Okay, good.  Let’s take
New York City
,” said Hemp.  “There were, at last count, approximately 8.3 million people living there at the time of the outbreak.  That would put over 7.5 million of them in the zombie category.  That leaves around 840,000 uninfecteds there.”

“These numbers,” I said.  “Make me want to puke.”

“But Gem,” said Hemp.  “This discovery could lead to the cure.  Tests have been done – immunity testing – with urushiol.  Other testing can be done.”

“By you?  Just you, Hemp?”

“No, Gem.  There have to be other scientists out there.  Others may discover this.”

“Fat chance,” said Flex.  “I don’t know how.  You stopped short in a cemetery to find them.  Who else is going to do that?”

“I’m going to try some tests with the hope there are others like me out there making discoveries of their own,” said Hemp, determined.  “I’ve already got the first batch of oils processing, thanks to our little propane freezer in the office.”

“How’d you do it?”

“Basically the way you’d get oil out of mint leaves.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I do that all the time.  Suzie fucking homemaker, I am,” I said.

Hemp laughed.  “I thought Charlie told you what I was up to.  It’s why I needed the vodka.  You basically tear the leaves and grind the stems from the plant, stuff them into a jar, packed very tight, and cover them with some strong alcohol, in this case the vodka.  The alcohol works as an agent to pull the oils out of the leaves.”

“Yeah I helped,” said Charlie.  “But sweetie, I gotta ask you again - where did you learn all this shit?  And what the hell do you see in me?”

“You’re smart, Charlie,” he said.  “And don’t act like you’re not.  You guessed why I was putting the jar in the freezer before I told you.”

“Because you’d already told me the booze pulled the oil out and I know that vodka doesn’t freeze.”

Hemp looked at Flex and me.  “Exactly.  The vodka doesn’t freeze, so when it’s done, the oil is what’s frozen.”

“So what do you do with it?” asked Flex.

“I test it on them,” he said, nodding his head toward the lab. 

“Do you have enough?” asked Flex.

“When it’s done I should have enough for a few tests.  I won’t know if I need more until I see what I can do with it.  If you want a lot of it you need a lot of leaves and four to six weeks using this method.”

“And when do these tests take place?” asked Charlie.

“You know me, babe,” he said.  “When I’ve got a toy, I’ve got to play.”

Charlie blushed.  I swear she did.  And I don’t think Hemp meant it like that.

Or maybe he did.

“I should have enough by tomorrow morning,” added Hemp.

“I wanna see,” I said.  “Gonna try to give ‘em poison ivy?”

“I have no idea what will happen,” said Hemp.  “But it should be interesting.  Or not.  Maybe nothing will happen.”

“God I hope not,” said Flex.  “We need to make some kind of progress and I feel good about this.  Hey, Hemp.  I have a question.”

“
At the risk of
sounding like a John Wayne, shoot.”

“How many people in
Birmingham
?  You know?”

“Just over 210,000 in the city,” said Hemp.  “Over 1.2 million in the metropolitan area. 
And don’t call me a genius again, because i
t’s part of the data on the maps from the CDC.”

“
Sure, it is,” said Flex.  “
So we’re looking at just 21,000 probable survivors at the beginning of the outbreak.  Fewer now, obviously.”

Charlie did her quick math.  “Leaving 189,000 zombies to deal with.”

“Our numbers are way off,” said Hemp.  “The diggers make it impossible to determine how many there actually are, but it also means something else.”

“I get it,” said Flex.  “It means we’re even more outnumbered.”

“That about covers it,” I said.

We sat around the table without speaking.  The door to the office opened and Trina and Taylor came running out and slid onto the seats beside us.

“Your picture is really pretty, Gemmy,” said Trina.

“It is,” said
Taylor
.  “But it’s naked,” she added.

“It’s what I’d call a boudoir style painting, somewhat abstract.  Meant to be what adults call sensual.”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” said
Taylor
.

“Hey,” said Trina to Cynthia, her eyes narrowed.  “Are you a good teacher?”

“I am, but I think it’s up to your art teacher to get into what she’s just described.”

“She’s right, girls,” I said.  “And when I start the painting of the two of you, I’ll give you a rundown of all my methods and styles.”

“Go wash your hands now and get ready for lunch,” said Cynthia.  The girls ran off.

“We’ll have to bring you up to speed on Hemp’s poison ivy theories later,” said Flex.  “It’s good stuff.”

“Hemp,” said Charlie, “I know we thought we were done for now, but what about the vapor?  How does this tie in with that?”

“I’m going to take a look at the data breakdown I have for the vapor and see if any components of urushiol or related toxins are represented.  That might tell me a lot.”

“I’ll help,” she said.

“Time will fly,” said Hemp.  “Always does when you work with me.”

“You really are a sentimental bastard, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and I like your shirt.”

“It’s true,” said Charlie.  “Who needs big tits when you’ve got an ass like this?”

“Ah, but you’re lucky.  Having both is a plus,” said Hemp.

“Aww, thanks,” said Charlie, feigning a blush very well.

“Okay,” I said.  “To the lab with you guys, and Hemp, I’ll tell Cyn what you told us.  Flex, don’t you have some gun cleaning to do?”

“I do,” he said.  “Let me know when you want to hang the picture.  I’ll help.”

I winked at him.  “I bet you will.”

“Got something in your eye?” he asked, smiling.

“Yeah I do.  You.”

“I thought so,” he said as he walked away.

“Watching you two makes me miss having someone,” said Cynthia.

“Having him makes me realize how much I missed him when he wasn’t around, so I know that feeling.”

I filled in Cynthia on all of Hemp’s information, and she seemed to become a bit more hopeful.  I didn’t bother mentioning how outnumbered we were, whether we considered all
the diggers
or just the census figures of people that were
alive
when the infection hit.

I’d gauged Cynthia carefully since the beginning, and hadn’t really felt she was ready to talk about her
mother
yet.  I thought now might be a good time, so I broke the ice.

“We never really talked much about things after we brought
Taylor
back from the house.”

“I know,” said Cyn.  “It was pretty raw emotionally.”

“It still is,” I said.  “Right?”

She nodded and seemed to be sear
ching for wor
ds.

She’d cut her blonde hair, which was almost to the middle of her back when we’d found her at the CDC, off at shoulder length.  It was easier to care for, and it looked really good on her.

“You know,
Taylor
is the same age as Trina’s sister Jesse,” I said.  “I think Trina sees her like a big sister.  It’s good.  I think it’s really helping her.”

“She does look up to her,” said Cynthia.  “It’s cute.  Trina, despite the language, is a good girl.”

I smiled.  “It’s a long story, but please don’t let it bother you.  It’ll peter out, I’m sure.  It already is, to a degree.”

“I noticed that, yeah.”

“You ready to talk?” I asked.

“My mother,” said Cynthia.  “She wasn’t always sweet as pie to me, but she did care for
Taylor
.”

“Why?”

“My choice in men, apparently.  Eric Preston was a good man, but he was a dreamer.  Always looking for the fast buck.”

“Missed that while you were dating?”

“Didn’t see anything.  Just saw him, the love he had for me, how I felt when I was with him.  You know, it’s the old ‘as long as we’re together we can face anything’ thing.”

“What happened to him?”

“When
Taylor
was two he couldn’t handle it.  The terrible twos were just too terrible.  He said we’d grown apart, even complained that I’d never lost all the baby weight.  Pretty much anything as an excuse.”

“That sucks,” I said.  I meant it.  “Did you ever hear from him again?”

Cynthia nodded.  “Oh, yes.  He paid the child support for the next four years, but after that he disappeared.  Just gone.  Nobody knew where he went, even his parents.”

“Killed?”

“Mystery,” she said.  “But maybe.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

She shrugged.  “That seems like a minor event now, Gem.  I’ve lost my mom, you saved my daughter, we’re fighting the walking dead.  If Eric’s around still, he’s probably one of them.  Since I have the immunity, chances are he doesn’t.”

“Do you want to talk about your mom?”

“Well, I don’t want to paint her as too hard on me,” she said.  “She did like Eric at first – quite a lot.  She only started questioning my judgment after he left.  I think she kind of blamed me for chasing him off.  She didn’t have any idea of the intricacies of our relationship.”

“Parents never really do, but they all think they do,” I said.

“Truer words were never spoken,” said Cynthia.  “I still miss him.”

I took her hand and said nothing.  I knew she missed her mother more, and really didn’t have any idea what had actually happened to her.  Whether she had become one of the creatures or whether she’d died at their hands.  Or teeth, really.

“I’d like to think that my mother did everything she could to protect
Taylor
right up until the end,” she said.  “That maybe she was the reason my daughter survived.”

Cynthia began to cry, and I leaned over and pulled her into a hug.   “In the absence of facts, you can create whatever scenario makes you feel better,” I said softly.  “That’s our right nowadays.”

“Gem,” she said.  “I want to find others.  I think it’s the only way we can ever really begin to put the world back together again.”

“I think Hemp and Flex are reaching that conclusion, too.  I’ll talk to Flex about it.”

“I’m not complaining,” said Cynthia.  “You saved me and my daughter from certain death – a horrible death.  So no demands here.”

“No, Cyn.  I don’t want you to even go there.  I’m one who likes to be settled, and I’m sure you do, too, if only for
Taylor
.  But while I hate to keep moving, in my heart I know you’re right.”

I stood from the table, resigned to have a good heart-to-heart with Flex later that night.

“But for now, let’s let Hemp finish his current batch of tests.  I’ve finished drawing up the plans for the
saw blade
throwing machine, so we’ll need to build that, too.  Then we can decide on our next move.”

“Fair enough,” said Cynthia.  “Thanks for the talk, Gem.”

*****

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

Flex and I slipped out behind the building later that night and smoked a little joint of the weed I’d taken from the evidence locker in
Tallahassee
.  It was good shit, and I only needed two hits to drop my eyelids, my heart rate, and of course, my racing brain from high gear into low.