Dead Hunger III: The Chatsworth Chronicles (8 page)

“You Hemp?” the bald one said.  “
Rory Dixon
.”

He held out his hand and I shook it.  “
By
way
of formal introduction, it’s Hemp
C
hatsworth,” I said.

“Pleased to meet you, Hemp,” said the other one.  “
Pete
Winfield.”

I shook his hand, too.  “From where do you hail?” I asked. 

“Couple states over.  We were just passing through when we got caught up in that mess at the church.  Kind of like you guys.”

“Only
we
didn’t so much get caught up as get you all out of it, did we?” I said.

“True,” said
Rory
.  “Very true.  Thanks for that.”

“We’d be dead if it weren’t for you guys,” said
Pete
.
  “So
Concord
,
New Hampshire
, huh?  You really think the granite will make a difference?”

“Remains to be seen,” I answered.  “
If it does, that means more survivors – or uninfecteds.  W
e need numbers, because numbers provide protection.  Sometimes all you really need to allow yourself the breathing room to re
search and re
build is warm bodies – no pun intended.”

“This . . . this liquid you’ve developed to kill them.  Can you tell us about it?” asked
Rory
.

“It’s a diluted urushiol solution,” I said.  “And don’t worry.  We’ll be producing as much of it as we can once we get settled.  A little goes a long way.”

“Great,” said
Pete
.  “You guys got a Ham radio?”

S
uddenly,
Rory
got a strange look on his face as he shot
Pete
a glance.  I thought I’d dig.
 

“Why do you ask?
” I said.
 
“
Someone in particular you’re looking for?”

“His family,” said
Rory
.  “He’s been wondering if his dad’s still alive.  He was kind of a Ham buff.”

“Yeah,” said
Pete
.  “If there’s a radio and any power, he’s sure to be on
it
.”

“What’s his name?” I asked.  “Maybe I can broadcast it when I get on next.  And yes, we have one in the mobile lab.  We left one Ham broadcasting from our last location, connected to a large bank of batteries.  Telling people where we’re going.”

“Yeah, we –”
Pete
started to say, then stopped.

“You what?”

“We think that’s a great idea,” finished
Rory
.  “Hope you’re right about
New Hampshire
.”

“His name’s Bill
,” said
Pete
.  “
Bill Winfield. 
And yeah, put his name out there if you would.  Like I said, if he’s alive, he’ll find a way to listen.
  He always said it’d be our only hope if the world took a shit.
”

“We’ll go see if Flex can use our help gassing up the other vehicles.  Nice to meet you, Hemp.”

The two men walked away and I watched them.  What was it about them?  They were both dressed similarly, wearing some sort of camo pants and long sleeved, collared shirts with several pockets.  Like for hunting or fishing.  Their shoes were even alike.  Black, leather hiking boots.

But maybe they just got their clothes at the same store.  It’s not like people shopped for the best bargains these days.  Find it, take it, and be done with it.

The ladies came out of the store with several bags bulging with items.  Charlie gave me a wave and
they
went right to the lab where they stocked some
of the newly gotten goods
in the outside storage and carried the rest inside.

I looked over at Dave and the boy, who were just finishing up filling up the bus with propane.
 

I saw something behind them, just behind the big tank.

They were blocked from its view, but I knew what it was.  It was at least one of
them
.

“Everybody get in a vehicle now!” I shouted at anyone within earshot.

Then
I ran.  Dave looked up as I was halfway there,
looking
confused for a moment.  When he saw me take the MP5 and swing it into fire position as I hoofed toward him, he pulled his gun from his holster and grabbed the boy’s arm, pulling him away from the tanks.

“Get in the bus!” I heard him yell at Matt.  “Quick, Matt!”

The boy
didn’t
hesitate.  He scrambled up the steep entry steps and dove into the first seat with the best view of what was happening outside.

The rotters – there were four of them – came around the far end of the big
p
ropane tank.  I wasn’t in a position to hit them without being sure not to fire into the gas tank, but Dave was.  He held the gun out with both hands and
fired, hitting
the nearest one
– a man – in the head. 

Tissue flew. 
The zombie
spun around,
crashing
into two of the others, both women, regained his footing and soon they were all advancing again.
  Black blood clotted on a gaping wound that encompassed the thing’s entire right eye, but
the bullet
had missed its brain.
 

There was nowhere for me to go to be able to fire on them.  I stood there stupidly, unable to do anything for the time being.

Behind him, what was once an old man wearing farmer-style suspenders staggered along, seeking to indulge his undying hunger, I was certain.  He appeared to be missing three fingers on his left hand, but I was sure he could still do damage
– p
robably
more as
a zombie than as a functioning,
elderly
human.

From my peripheral vision I saw that F
lex
had broken into a run, streaking toward
us
at
the sound of the gunshot.  Gem was right behind him, sc
anning the perimeter for others, her
U
zi held out in front of her.  I noticed that as she ran, her hand patted her pockets, making sure she had full magazines ready.

She was on automatic instantly.  Unfortunately, I could see that Dave, while he might initially strike a stranger as a tough guy, was struggling to maintain his composure and do some damage at the same time.

I looked around. 
I didn’t see Charlie.  Stragglers were still not in safe places, ducking down behind tires and vehicles, but not inside.

“Everybody
without a weapon
get in the
bloody
motorhome!” I shouted at the top of my lungs.  “
I repeat, i
f you’re not armed, get in
side
the motorhome
NOW
!”

Four
of these lifeless freaks
could become twenty-four in a flash, and we’d all grown quite used to that fact.

Flex, Gem and I held our weapons out, knowing we couldn’t fire in the direction of the tanks.  There was no other spot we could get to that would allow us a clear shot.

Dave
used his head.  He quickly
scurried around the back side of the
large, white
tank and came up behind them as they
staggered around
the corner of the bus. 
But only two of them appeared. 
This time he didn’t miss.  He put the gun against the head of one female, fired two shots, then the othe
r.

Flex and Gem
ran ahead of me and
reached
Dave
almost at the same time.  “Where did the other two go?” shouted Gem.

“I was focused on these
fucks
,” said Dave.  “W
here the hell
did
they go?”

My eye was then drawn to the side of the bus where I’d detected movement.  By the door.

How was it possible?  Flex and Gem stood in front, looking around the back side of the vehicle, and
as though rising from nowhere, the zombie that Dave had shot but not killed stood directly in front of the bus door.

The open door.

I raised my weapon to take him out, but Matt was there, too, right behind the thing, his eyes wide and frightened.

“Flex, Gem!  Come around and fire alongside the bus! 
Quick
!”

D
ave pounded on the
opposite
side of the bus 
“Close the door, Matt!
” he shouted.  “
Do it!  Now
!”

Too late.  The creature stuck his arms through the doors and
swung a dead foot
on the step, pulling
itself
up and in.

Matt had run
between the seats just before the thing scrambled inside
to
reach the lever that would close the door.

Dave saw what was happening, and opened his mouth to shout something, but he held his words when he saw what happened.

Without comprehending that it was too late to follow Dave’s command, h
e
yanked the handle by the driver’s seat and the doors came together, sealing him inside.

With the creature.

Matt screamed.

I ran to the front of the bus, my gun held out, trying to get a clear shot.  Gem was doing the same thing, as was Flex.

It was useless.  Matt was leaping over the seats trying to get to the back row where there was an emergency window he could likely kick out.

The digger was right behind him.

Dave slammed the butt of his handgun into the window opposite the door, smashing the glass into a thousand  tiny fragments. 

“Drop, Matt!  On the floor!”
he screamed.

Matt leapt over another seat and was
only two
rows from the back
of the bus
.  At Dave’s command he
dropped to the floor and
disappeared completely
,
but
the horrid
mutant’s
face turned down, its
eyes singularly focused on
his next meal.

The
thing’s
mouthful of
rotting teeth was visible as
the
zombie’s
jaws stretched wide in preparation for an enormous bite
, its face fixed in a horrific grimace
.

Dave stuck his gun through the shattered window and emptied the magazine into the creature, blowing him back against the opposite row of seats.
  The bus windows on the other side blew out into the parking lot, and I hoped no errant rounds hit the motorhome containing the rest of our family of survivors.

F
lex and Gem had been
caught in a bri
ef moment of indecision as they and I watched
the horror
unfolding in such tight quarters with a highly explosive tank of gas so ominous and
threatening
.

As I opened my mouth to tell them to run around behind the bus,
I saw something shoot out from under the
vehicle’s front grill
.  A
destroyed
hand.  It clenched around Gem’s ankle and pulled hard enough to yank her off her feet.

It happened so fast that Gem didn’t have time to say a word, or to even
scream out in fear.  Her head hit the ground with a dull thud and she was instantly dazed.

Then s
omething
else
caught my eye
in the other direction
, near the motorhome
. 

I was concerned about Gem
and the child she carried within her,
and
I didn’t want to turn away, but there were too many
other
vulnerable people
crammed into
the lab
, and I was used to these friends of mine taking care of themselves.

They were damned good at it, too.

Flex thought fast.  He
dropped
his weapon to the ground and grabbed
Gem beneath the arms, pulling
with near superhuman strength.  The thing came with her
, gripping tightly to her leg,
unwilling to let go.  It was the old man, and he needed to die.