Dead Hunger IV: Evolution (55 page)

“Vikki, look,” he said, nodding his head toward the northern horizon.  “Fire.”

“I can smell it,” said Vikki.  “How the hell did it start?  It looks huge.”

“Hurry, Vikki,” said Hemp.  “All you’ve got.  I have a bad feeling.”

It began to feel as though the breeze carried with it not only smoke, but a chalky, dry dust.  The pulsating sound rattled Hemp’s teeth, and began affecting his concentration. 

They reached the van and Hemp pulled out the remote, triggering the unlock mechanism.  He pulled the rear doors open. 

A loud noise came from behind them.  In the pale light of the evening, the walls of the State House building appeared to shift and move; Hemp wondered briefly if it was an illusion, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of brick and block cracking and collapsing.

“Let’s lift her in, Vikki!  Hurry!” 

“We gotta tie her or something, Hemp!  She’s only in the net.”

“Here,” said Hemp.  They had her just on the ground beside the open, rear doors.  The creature was thrashing within the net, and Hemp muscled her onto her stomach, avoiding her slashing hands and fingernails. 

“Grab her right wrist, but be careful,” he said.  He took hold of her left wrist and pulled it back behind her.  Vikki struggled to hold on to the thing’s
arm
.  She had it, then it jerked away again, and Vikki jumped back. 

Like a dog watching a lake surface for a fish to appear, Vikki gauged the ease with which she could seize the female’
s arm, grabbing for it when she felt she had the best chance to keep it. 

Hemp snapped the cuff on the left wrist, and waited patiently.

Vikki got it.  With both hands, she pulled the creature’s right wrist close to her left, and Hemp clamped
on the other handcuff
.

“We haven’t much time, Vikki.  We need to get her in the van now!”

They each stood on opposite sides of the net and curled their fingers though, careful to avoid
anywhere
near her face.  “On two,” said Hemp.

At the count, they groaned and lifted Hemp’s new test subject into the van.  Hemp slammed the doors to reveal a crowd of walking dead moving
briskly
from the
now crumbled corner of the
building toward the van.   Their eyes glowed from pink to bright red, and the
y
were less than twenty-five yards away
.

“Oh, my God,” said Vikki.  “Hemp!”

Hemp climbed in the driver’s side and Vikki was seated in the passenger seat a split-second later.  Hemp fired the
engine, which
turned on the first try.

Suddenly, something slammed into the side of the van, rocking it
back and forth
.  From behind them, the powerful, low tone began again
.

“Vikki, put on your mask,” said Hemp.  “Now.”

Vikki pulled the mask hanging from her neck up over her mouth and nose. 

Hemp pulled his on too, and no sooner were they in place
,
did a crimson vapor billow from the rear of the van, nearly filling the passenger compartment in seconds.

The van was hit again, hard on the driver’s side.  Hemp saw why.  There were at least fifty of the creatures outside pushing into the van, backing up and ramming it
repeatedly
as though directed to do so.

The vibration came louder, almost manic. It was as though the zombie behind them, cuffed and trapped in the net, was directing the attack through her primal, non-verbal communication.

Hemp threw the van into reverse and hit the gas hard.  The van rocketed backward, hit something
solid
and came to an abrupt stop.  The creatures were in front of the van now, and Hemp did not know how he would be able to
push through them, but now that they were trapped within, it was their only option.

He dropped the gear shift into drive and floored it.

The heavy van surged forward and the bodies pressed briefly against the windshield, then folded beneath it.  But there were dozens more behind them, and as they fell, they became tire chocks.  The van could not move.

“Shit!” shouted Hemp, slamming it into reverse once more.  He punched the accelerator, and this time the van’s rear tires rolled atop a mound of something – bodies, he assumed – and gained a mushy sort of traction.  He spun the steering wheel, attempting to throw the front end into the clear.

But there was no clear.  Seeing that, Hemp kept it in reverse
.  He looked at his rear view mirror, but nothing was visible through the blacked out rear windows, very much by design.

Vikki was in tears beside him, but Hemp was certain she wasn’t aware of it.  Her sobs were quiet, and her white-knuckled hands gripped the door and center console, trying to keep herself in her seat as t
he h
eavy vehicle lurched backwards into unknown obstacles.

Another sharp jolt, and Hemp felt the van list sharply to his right.  As he spun the wheel again, he glanced to his left to see dozens of faces pushing, clawing and scrambling, as though they believed they could push right through the steel exterior and be inside where food awaited them.

Hemp felt himself being lifted.  The angle grew sharper and sharper.

The van was now sitting on the two passenger side wheels, and Hemp was running out of options.  If it tilted up another foot, the van would roll onto its side, and glass may break.

He and Vikki would be dead.

Physics, he thought.  What move must I perform, both with the steering wheel and the accelerator, to force this vehicle back down?

Hemp closed his eyes.  Vikki remained silent.  He visualized the vehicle on its right side tires, and in under a second, he made the call.

He cranked the steering wheel hard left and with the transmission in reverse, he floored the engine.

The effect essentially pulled the rug out from under the van, causing the driver’s side wheels to once again slam into the ground.  Once this occurred, the van jolted backward again, and with the steering wheel still turned full left, the front end of the van swung hard and fast to the right, knocking another ten ghouls away from them.

When they came to rest, the path was clear in front.  Hemp threw it into drive and floored it.

Initially struggling, as though several bodies were caught beneath the truck, the rear end lifted, hopped, and
seconds later they were moving.

Five miles per hour.  Ten.  Twenty.

“I
freaking
love you,” said Vikki.  “God, Hemp.  Thank you.”

Hemp nodded, but said nothing.  The bar was just ahead.  The glow on the northern horizon troubled him.

He pulled in and
backed the rear of the van up to
the
exterior entry door to the lab, noticing that Flex’s truck was nowhere in sight.  Its absence added more dread to this already long, dreadful night.

*****

Chapter Seventeen

Flex led the group back through the corridors, the smoke thickening.  What the hell was burning inside
this concrete and steel madhouse he didn’t know
, but if it could burn, it was on fire.

That much was clear.  His lungs ached.

“How
are you holdin’ up
, Larry?” he asked, not looking back.

“
Like
I
told you
before,
i
t’s
Lawrence
, and I’m doing fine,” he wheezed.  “Sooner we get out of here the better, though.”

A figure came out of the dark, and Flex’s light shone on white, sightless eyes. 

Nikki screamed
, “Ian!”

Flex had seen a looming zombie, thrashed and broken, barely able to hold himself up using the walls as support.

But hungry.  Hungry like all of them.  And Nikki had instantly seen what Flex did not.

It
was
Ian.  His
clothes were the same, and the gaping hole where his heart had been oozed gore
as Flex ducked
quickly
to his right, turned and fired
into the walking cadaver’s head
.  The
newly born ghoul
slammed into the brown, painted block wall and slid down, no doubt leaving a telltale smear of bodily fluids.

“Oh, my God!” shouted Nikki.  “Ian!”

Then Flex realized that while he was trying to kill the female beneath Ian, he had never fired a round into Ian’s brain to prevent him from coming back.  After he’d been tossed across the room to slam into the wall, Flex never considered he’d be able to actually walk.

Another of their amazing and frightening talents.

“Keep moving,” said Flex.  “He’s gone.  He was gone, Nikki.”

“I see it!” shouted
Bell
.  “The exit!”

He was right.  It was still open, outlined in a yellow, flickering glow. 
Flex took Nikki’s arm, and i
n five more steps they reached the door and pushed through it.

It was worse than Flex had imagined. 
The flames burned high and hot as far as the eye could see.  The overgrown foliage
was not wet enough from the sparse snowfall
and
the flames were
driven by the northerly wind directly toward downtown
Concord
.  Flex wondered how far it had gotten, but one thing was clear; he couldn’t see the end of the fire line
, which may have been ten miles across or more
.

Once outside, they staggered to a stop and tried to catch their collective breath
as they saw their path back the way they’d come narrowed by the encroaching flames
.

“That shit is moving,” said
Bell
.  “
Can we make it through there without getting burned alive?”

Eddie was still out cold, and West’s groan told Flex
they needed to get to the truck.  But
Bell
was right.  They now only had a five-foot gap between the prison wall and the corner of the building.  What lay beyond that was up to chance and hope.

They ran in a slow jog
,
their weapons raised.  Several walking, burning bodies
thrashed wildly
through the
burning grass around them
, no longer a threat now that they were aflame.  As the corner approached, Flex said another quick, rare prayer.

They rounded the corner, and their path was intact.  Not by much.  They had perhaps three feet to skirt through, and any hesitation might mean even less room and charred skin.

“Keep your eyes on the ground so you don’t trip, and go as fast as you can!” shouted Flex, waving West and his cargo ahead.  Bell waved Nikki through,
her mouth set in a straight line, her eyes watching where she placed each step, as though to avoid looking anywhere else
. 
Bell
followed, and Flex brought up the rear.

The heat and smoke was intense, as if a thousand hay bales burned around them. 
The flames created their own hot wind, contrasting with the cold.

They ran.

Their speed was hindered
slightly by West, but even with the kid on his back, his pumping legs ate up real estate and a good clip.

They
reached the fence and
Bell
and Flex held it open for West, who ducked through, still with Eddie over his shoulder. 

He has to be exhausted by now
, thought Flex. 
Tough bastard.

After Nikki went through,
Bell
and Flex followed.  They
got to the truck,
which was parked deep enough in the parking lot that the flames torching the perimeter did not touch it
.
  The heat from the flames was like a blast furnace, even in the cold, ambient air.

Everyone got inside.  West lowered Eddie into the back seat and pushed him to the center, sliding in after him.

Nikki sat on his other side, holding his unmoving hand.

Flex fired the engine and looked around him for a way out.
  It wasn’t clear, even as he hit the accelerator.

Even so, the sound of Nikki’s soft sobs in the back seat gave him a kind of peace.  If they had survived the last twenty minutes, they could survive anything.

*****

“Get the door!” shouted Hemp as he pushed through, dragging his end of the net
, the spear gun dragging on the floor beneath it
.