Dead Hunger V: The Road To California (28 page)

I did not let go of them again until we were miles from that house.

And the creatures below.

*****

We’d been flying an hour and no more strange words had come from Lola’s mouth.  She had been alternately crying and staring out the window since the event, and I thought it was time to fill her in.

“Feel like talking?” I asked.

She nodded, swiping at her red eyes.  Serena looked at me and nodded her approval, too.  “We’ve seen it before,” said Serena.  “It’s not dangerous like this.  It could’ve been.”

“What stopped it?” she asked.

“The wafer we gave you as a precaution,” I said.  “We didn’t know for sure if you were gassed in the house, but since you didn’t remember where a huge crowd like the one we saw had gone, I had to go under the assumption that you were.  It wouldn’t have knocked you out, but might have affected your memory.  We experimented with a  girl named Rebecca Dovorany in Concord – she volunteered to take it and be sprayed.”

“Brave,” said Lola.  “But it works in the opposite order?  After you’re sprayed?”

“Now, I suppose the answer is yes, unless you had an urge to attack Rachel or pull open the door.  Did you? 
Do
you?”

She shook her head.  “No, and I never did.  Not even when I heard those words coming from my mouth.”

“So that’s language,” said Serena.  “Basic, but language.  I don’t think I was around to see what happened when Rebecca was tested.”

“You were preoccupied,” I said.  “Me, too.  Hemp worked on it during what would have been our last hours if not for Tony.”

We
had
been about to die – a bar filled with every survivor in town was either going to be overrun with zombies and burned, or the same thing in the opposite order.  We were lucky – so damned lucky – that Tony Mallette from Shelburne, Vermont picked that damned day to move to Concord.  He’s living near my old friends now, and I know I’ll see him again if we make it out of California.

I patted Lola’s hand.  “I don’t know how long this ability lasts,” I said.  “You were a portal back there, and I don’t think anything more than that.  You might keep the ability, you might not.  Either way, it could serve as an early warning system to us.  If they’re nearby.”

“Do you think they’re broadcasting those commands all the time, David?” asked Serena.

“You mean just blasting out commands in case one of their gas victims is around?” asked Nelson.  “Like you guys said Hemp’s radio was doing in Alabama?”

“Yeah,” I said, looking at Serena.  “Hemp looped a message on a Ham radio telling everyone they went to Concord when they left, which is how Carville found him.  Hope that battery died already.”

“Yeah,” said Nelson.  “Town’s a dead end now.  Probably burned to the ground, surrounded by crispy critter zombies.”

“But to answer your question,” I said, “I guess it’s a maybe.”

Rachel chimed in from the pilot’s seat.  “They’re dead,” she said.  “How do they have words at all?  Language skills.”

“I didn’t hear any voice inside my head,” said Lola.  “I don’t remember that.  I just remember the thought originating and coming out.  Like from mush to words.”

“It’s like how they call the other zombies, dude!” said Nelson, his eyes wide for a change.  “Talk about dead, those dudes are freakin’ deader’n dead.  They can’t hear shit, so words wouldn’t work.  Maybe just like a draw, like a magnet.  A pull.”

“A telepathic command?” I asked.  “Well, I guess that’s what it is anyway,” I said, answering my own question.

“Whatever,” said Nelson.  “I think that when it’s dead to dead, like from the red-eyes to the others, it’s just what you said – a pull.  When it’s picked up by Lola here or Rebecca back in Concord, it’s converted into words that they can understand, but not sent that way, just like converted by these chick’s brains.”

“That makes sense,” said Serena.  “If by
these chicks
, you mean Lola and Rebecca.  The intention of the command is clear, like a woman giving her husband or boyfriend a look.  He’d know what that look means, and could act on it as surely as if words were spoken.”

“You got looks like that?” I asked, smiling.

Serena said nothing.  She just gave me a look.

“Got it,” I said.  “But I think we might be thinking we’re smarter than we are,” I said.  “It makes sense, but I can’t fight that imposter complex.  You know, that I’m not smart enough to have figured it out.”

“Dude, you can drop that worry, because I figured it out and I damned well know I’m smart enough” said Nelson.  “Ha ha!  It’s an intellectual switcheroo.”

I had to laugh.  Nelson had already told me his goofy stoner game was largely an act, and while I didn’t believe it completely – if only based on the amount of weed he smoked – he was a hell of a lot smarter than I’d ever given him credit for before this road trip.

“Touché,” I said.  “Rachel, how we doing on fuel?”

“We’ve got another hour and a half.  Based on the chart Serena marked, we’re looking at stopping in Limon, Colorado.  That way we can just fly right over Denver.  Too many people, right?”

Serena nodded first.  “Fine with me,” she said.  “I’m getting like Gem.  Small, tight group.  Scent to a minimum.”

*****

We got there in just about an hour and twenty minutes, and Rachel spotted a landing pad near what appeared to be a small hospital.  It was empty, so Rachel set the Eurocopter down smoothly right in the center.  As she cut the engine and the rotors slowed to a stop, sweet silence ensued. 

Rachel looked out her window.  “Guys!  Fuel tanks and a crank pump out there!” she said, gleefully.  “Oh, shit.  Something else, too.”

In the silence of the Colorado afternoon, even the zombies that approached us were silent.  Ears gone, several with one eye.  We were so taken with their level of decay, we almost did not take action.

Mesmerized.  All but Lola, who said, “Anyone want to handcuff me or anything?”

“Why?” asked Nelson.  “Feel like you’re getting any signals?”

“No,” she said.  “I want to run, though.”

“Don’t run, dude.”

“I won’t.  Kill them, though.  Okay?  Like … now?”

I looked at Nelson, then back at the seven or so rotters who were now within fifteen feet.  I then got out of the helicopter and ran around it, checking in all directions.  I ran back to the open door.  “Just them,” I said. 

“They look fucked up, bro,” said Nelson.

“Really rotted,” said Serena.  “We’re in Colorado, right?  Maybe the winter did this?”

I thought about it.  Good point.  Rachel confirmed.

“Extreme cold would do this,” she said.  “I’ve seen frostbite and what it does to living humans in no time.  These things start out cold.  Not far to go to frozen.”

“And still moving,” said Nelson.  “No pain to stop them, no sleepiness, right?”

“Right,” I said.  “Like that one there.  One arm and walking on a stump.”

“I’ll feel like I’m doing them a favor,” said Nelson.

“Let’s do this so we can figure out the fuel situation and get some food down us,” I said.

Nelson walked toward the tail of the craft and I went to the front.  Serena grabbed her gun, but I waved her off.  This would be easy, and I preferred she stay with Lola Lane.  I did not know the status of the females who approached – even the tiniest remnant of a fetus and something could happen that I just did not trust we were protected against yet.

Serena nodded and sat on the floorboard of the chopper while we went to do our thing.

I approached two women, one with stringy, brown hair, matted with blood and the other missing all of her toes on both feet.  My eyes were drawn to this one, her condition was so dreadful.  Her pants were practically torn from her body, and huge strips of dried, jerky-like skin hung from her exposed right leg as she staggered toward me, her teeth gnashing in her exposed skull.  What remained of her skin began at her cheeks; it was gray and cracked like the Sahara desert landscape.

I raised my AR-15 and shot her once in the face, said a silent
I’m sorry
, and shot her in the cranium.  I had apologized for missing her brain the first shot.

The other one held up and stopped, her eyes staring at me and my weapon.  After Flex, Gem, Hemp and Charlie got to Knoxville and started confronting the creatures, I’d seen  a bit of that amazing behavior, but most of the time I fired too quickly to observe it. 

They
did
recognize a threat – this time being the gun.  I dispatched the internalizing and shot her in the brain – the first time.  She fell backward and lay still.

When I turned to take out another two who were now within five feet of our transportation, I turned to see all of Nelson’s three brass Ninja stars in the heads of three downed infecteds.  No twitching, all good.

“Get your stars, Nel,” I called.  “I got these others.”

This time I pulled my Walther and walked up to each of them, fired a single shot into their brains and down they went.  All of them were trashed the same, and I had to attribute it to the blistering cold they no doubt had endured during the Colorado winter.

Let the process of turning to bone, then dust, ensue.  Seven more of them could now ascend to Heaven or descend into Hell.  Far be it for me to make that call. 

The thought lingered as I walked back to the helicopter.  I didn’t know what kinds of people they were when they lived, whether they were good or bad, respected or reviled by others. 

Then I wondered something unique to that moment and especially unique for Dave Gammon: 
If there is a God, had he taken their souls already?
 

Then a horrible thought hit me, and I pondered how the uninfecteds – me, Nelson, Flex, Serena, Gem, everyone.  How had we gone from ordinary people to the kinds of people who could kill these things instinctively, with no guilt or reservation.

One final question about God nagged at me as I offered a smile to Serena, meant to tell her everything was just fine: 
Had he already taken our souls, too?

*****

             
Chapter Eleven             

“There’s a ranch or something just down this road,” said Nelson.  “Maybe we walk there, let Rachel get some rest before we hit the breeze again.”

“I could use it,” said Rachel.  She carried her cap in her hand and ran her hand over her hair.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said.  I carried an AR-15 strapped on my shoulder and a bag of various food and supplies.  Serena had her AR-15 at ready, and Nelson carried the other one and another bag of supplies.  We never knew when we were going to get somewhere and decide it was a comfortable enough place to settle in for the night, so we went prepared.

We’d need to scavenge for fuel again before we hit the air again, too.  There weren’t a ton of vehicles around, so we hoped the in-ground fuel tank at the helipad was full. We’d look for a bolt cutter in the garage at the ranch, because there was a hefty padlock on the hand-crank pump.

Lola looked like she had something on her mind.  As we made our way to the ranch, she kept glancing in my direction.  I saw Serena noticing, and finally smiled and asked, “What’s up, Lola?  You look like you have a question.”

“Yeah,” she said.  “I’m wondering what happens when we get to California.”

“It’s pretty simple,” I said.  “I know pretty much where Uncle Bug lives, so we just have to get there and play it by ear.  I’m not positive, but if he’s got things well in hand, we might decide to stay, at least for a while.  I know he has provisions for years, so it might be the best bet for me and Serena.  Maybe you, if he’s cool with it and that’s what you want.”

Nelson walked over and fell in beside us.  “What about Flex and Gem and everyone?” he asked.  “You can’t just not go back.”

“I’m not saying I’ll never go back, Nelson,” I said.  “Yeah, they’re like family to me, but they knew when we left that there was a chance they’d never see us again.  That’s just the way of the world these days.  It’s not like we can send them a postcard.”

Nelson was more upset than I’d ever seen him.  “I’m going back!” he said.  “I’ll go to California with you, but I’m going back to our friends.  Dude, they
are
like family, but my real family’s there, too.  My Uncle Jim.”

I was beside myself.  I hadn’t asked Nelson to come, and I’d already discussed all the possibilities with Serena, who was the only person in the group I owed any explanation to anyway.

“Nelson,” said Serena.  “David talked to me about it long before we left.  You might remember you joined us on the road, and there was no talking you out of it.”

Nelson looked somewhat ashamed, but said, “I didn’t think you’d leave your family behind.  Not for good.”

I stopped and took him by the shoulders.  “Dude, look at me.”

He raised his eyes.  “What.”

“You’re like family to me, too.  Okay?  I don’t want you to be pissed at me, Nel.  I guess all you knew was we were going to California, and I suppose if I’d have told you the entire plan when you rode up on the scooter, you might have turned around.”

He gave me and Serena a crooked smile.  “Probably not.  I really wanted to come.  You’re like my family, too.”

I hugged him, and our guns clacked together.

“It’s that awkward moment,” I said, “when you hug another man and find something hard between you.”

“Dude!” Nelson said, pulling away.  “Correction!  It’s that awkward moment when the awkward moment joke itself is what created an even
more
awkward moment!”

I laughed.  “Good point.  Nelson, don’t get too upset, okay?  There are multiple possibilities, and at least three of them send us right back home.  One, we don’t find my uncle at all, and it’s homeward bound.  Two, we find him, he doesn’t want me there anyway, and we leave.  Home we come.  Three, he wasn’t immune, and it’s the same result.”

“There’s four,” said Nelson.  “The one where everything’s hunky dory, he’s got a guestroom all set up with a big screen with Playstation and Blu-Ray, and solar-powered cars for getting around town.”

“You left out the hydroponic weed garden.”

“Yeah, that,” said Nelson.  “Then I’d stay, too.”

We both laughed.  Nelson turned and we started our trek toward the house.  It was about an eighth of a mile away now.

Suddenly we heard a distant report, and Nelson flew backward, landing hard on his back and sliding along the gravel road.  His eyelids fluttered, and his arms and legs jerked and twitched as spasms shook his body.

We all stood there with our mouths open, staring at Nelson, except Serena, who screamed, “Down!  Gun!”

I dropped down beside Nelson.  His shirt was torn and smoking just over his heart, in the center of his pocket tee.  It was bulging out, pointed on both sides of the smoking tear, and I realized he had a Ninja star in there.  One of the stainless steel 2” stars.  I pulled it out and saw a dent in the center of it.

It had stopped a bullet, like the badge of a lucky cop.

Nelson’s obsession for Japanese martial arts had saved his life.  And I remembered that he had just wiped that one off after killing the zombies at the helicopter and put it back into his shirt pocket. 

More gunshots, and puffs of gravel and dirt near me.

“Stop fucking shooting at us!” I shouted, trying to lift Nelson’s head off the gravel.  I put my face beside his, and I heard and felt his breath, coming in and out of his mouth in rapid, shallow puffs.

I felt a wave of intense relief wash over me.  Nelson was alive.  Trying to stay low, I shrugged out of my weapon, I wormed my way out of my own tee shirt, balled it up and tucked it beneath his head.

The shots had stopped for the moment.

“Can you tell where they’re shooting from?” I asked.

“No,” said Lola.  “You said get down, and I did.  I don’t have a gun, remember.”

“Serena?” I asked.  “Fuck, I hate this!”

“It’s coming from that way,” she said, pointing toward a cluster of more dilapidated farmhouses ahead of us, off to the right.  The house we’d set our sights on was straight ahead.

  “Is he okay?  Is he bleeding?” asked Rachel.

“He’s breathing,” I said.  “No blood.  One of his stars stopped the bullet.”

“Thank God,” whispered Serena.

“Okay, guys.  Because of my training, this is where I take over, if you don’t mind,” said Rachel.  “Slide me that AR-15.  We’re going to drop down in this ditch here, to our left.  Once we get in there, we’re going to crawl until we put at least fifty yards between where we are now and where we end up.”

I pulled Nelson’s weapon away from where he lay and pushed it over to Rachel.  She took it and chambered a round expertly.

“Back toward the chopper, right?” I asked.

“No.  They’ll be expecting it.  Look up there.  If we can make it to the bend in the road we can cut straight down, across that grassy area and make it to the fence line of the ranch house.”  She stopped and bit her lower lip, looking behind us.  “Wait,” she said.  “Maybe we should go both directions.  That ditch extends all along this road, so if you can get Nelson back to the helicopter there are medical supplies there if you need them.  Plus, you’ll have cover.”

“I’m not going to know what to do if he’s seriously hurt,” I said, realizing I was the only one strong enough to carry him over my shoulders, or in my arms if necessary.

“There’s a cold pack, Dave,” said Rachel.  “Just break it and put it on the wound.  Could be broken ribs or even his chest plate, so be as gentle with him as you can.”

Another gunshot rang out, and I felt rocks hit my right foot.  They were close.

“Lola, Serena, and I can draw their fire from farther ahead, give you a clear run.  You can fire a shot or two from back there.”

More gunshots, and a nearby ricochet.

“Now,” said Rachel.  “Serena, you’re stronger than Lola or me.  Help Dave drag Nelson into the ditch.  I’m going to cover you.”

Rachel, lying flat on the gravel road, turned her AR-15 toward the source of the gunfire and said, “Now!”  She began firing the weapon.  Single shot bursts, two that we heard ring off the distant barn.  Another quick shot.  She swung the gun far to the right and fired off two more, then quickly back to fire another pair of shots.

Lola never stood, rather she put her arms straight down by her sides and rolled like a cylinder into the ditch.  Once in, she moved over to where we’d come in.

“You two go!” Rachel shouted, ramping up the gunfire to automatic, spraying bullets from left to right.  Serena and I got to our feet and bent down, taking Nelson beneath the shoulders.  We  dragged him toward the ditch as fast as we could.  It was about four feet deep, but it was enough.  As his shoulders crested the edge of the embankment, Lola took over, dragging him the rest of the way in as we jumped down inside the crevice.

Rachel fired two more shots and dove toward the ditch.  A split second after she was in, the gunfire started again, this time multiple weapons firing.

Seconds later they were silenced.  We were obviously out of their line of sight, and they were like us in that regard; they did not like to waste ammo.

There was a little mud in the bottom of the ditch, and since I needed to drag Nelson much of the way in order to stay out of sight, I was glad.  It would make the job easier.

“You killed our fucking sentries!” a voice shouted.

“What did he just say?” I asked, looking at Serena.

“Sentries?” she said.  “What?  The zombies?”

“Must be,” said Lola.  “Who else?  They’re the only ones you guys killed.”

Rachel looked ahead and behind us again.  On the north side was the ditch and beyond that, a steep hillside.  On the right side of the road was a drop-off, and we could see the top of a fence.

“We killed some infecteds!” I shouted.  “They were coming at us!”

“Yeah!” said a different voice.  “To keep you out!  Thieves!”

“We’ll barter!” said Serena.  “We’ll trade you things.  We have things you don’t!”

“What the hell can we trade, Serena?” I asked.

She looked at me, her face grim.  “Urushiol, right?  The new gold?”

I shook my head, then looked into her eyes, then down at Nelson.  I nodded.  “You’re right.  They don’t have to know the limitations with the red-eyes.”

“No,” she said.  “They don’t.”

“You’re going to want to know what we know!” she shouted, then smiled at me.  “I feel like I’m on a cop show.”

“I’d rather be on a fucking cop show,” I said.

Nelson began to stir.  My heart started going like a metronome on meth.  I got down to him and when his eyes fluttered open, they rolled for a couple of seconds before staying still.  He blinked a few times before a look of recognition swam back into his eyes.  “Dude,” he said.  “What’d you do to me?”

I slipped my arm under his neck and head.  “Nelson, I didn’t do anything, man.  You got shot.  Well, you almost got shot.”

“Dude, where’s my weed?”

“Nelson, don’t worry about that right now.  Your Ninja star saved your life, buddy.  Bullet hit it dead on.”

Nelson took a breath and winced.  “Ouch!  Crap,” he said.  “I can’t take a deep breath.”

“It definitely knocked the breath out of you.  I think you’re going to have more of that,” I said.  “I’m just glad you’re alive, my friend.”

“Put your hands up and come out!” yelled the first voice.

I squeezed Nelson gently on the right shoulder.  “Hey, rest here a second.  Just relax.  We’re trying to talk our way out of this shit.  The guys who shot you.”

“Dude, people should be nice to one another.  What is that, anyway?”

“I know, Nelson.  It’s like Shelburne all over again.  I’m borrowing my shirt back.”

I took the shirt and put it on the end of my rifle and raised it up high.  A ZZ Top flag of surrender.  Who could resist that?  I swung it back and forth.

“Climb out of the ditch!” the first voice – apparently the leader of the two – called again.

Making sure I was below the ridge of the ditch, I carefully removed the PPK from my right leg drop holster and tucked it into the back of my pants.  I slowly put the AR-15 just outside the ditch so they could see me do it, and pulled my shirt back on, making sure it covered the pistol.

Raising my hands, I looked at the others and said, “I’ll go, guys.  You guys just wait here and I’ll try to calm them down.”

“That’s not going to happen,” said Serena, following my lead, tucking her Walther into the back of her pants, too.  That was my girl.  She moved the other AR-15 beside mine and crawled out alongside me, raising her hands in surrender.

“Okay,” Serena called.  “What now?”

“Just wait!”

“If I thought there was really a brain between them, I wouldn’t have come out,” I whispered.

“I know,” said Serena.  “They just sound stupid, don’t they?”

I nodded.  As we stood there, our hands in the air, two young men – they could not have been more than twenty-two or twenty-three – emerged from behind the corner of a farmhouse off to our left, one holding a small rifle of some kind, and the other holding a pistol.  They both wore the type of workout tank tops that weightlifters often wear, presumably to show off their massive pecks and guns.