Dead Hunger V: The Road To California (38 page)

BOOK: Dead Hunger V: The Road To California
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The gas emanated from the earth.  There was no sanctuary anywhere.  Democratic, Islamist, Communist.

None of it mattered anymore.  Governments and regimes were all now meaningless, all power reassigned to the plague that darkened all their citizens’ lives and hopes;  even in countries where a bleaker life did not seem possible before.

The radio had warmed up and now emitted sounds.  When I heard the static and a few strange whistles, I figured I had it where it needed to be.  I found a scan button and pressed it.

The channel changed, then stayed there for about twenty seconds before moving on to the next.  Whenever it changed, I would press the button on the handset and say, “Dave Gammon, Dunsmuir, California.”

Hell no, I don’t know why I said that – I just couldn’t think of anything else.  I got nothing back, so turned it off and decided to preserve the battery.  I’d try again at 4:55 PM our time.  I supposed if we could scare him up within a couple of hours, that would still work.  After that, we needed to get a good night’s sleep and get started at first light.

 

*****

 

The fueling went very well.  Everyone said there appeared to be a good amount of fuel left in the tanks.  According to the wood dipstick they’d found in the service bay area, there were roughly 6,000 gallons left.

That was worth setting up sentries to protect it. 

After getting cleaned up, everyone ate inside.  Windows were cracked to make sure we could hear if any cowbells sounded in the woods, but none did.  No place but cabin 3 was large enough for everyone, so we crowded in there and had one of Flex and Gem’s old favorites; canned chili.

Nelson looked at his watch.  “Fifteen minutes, dude,” he said.  “I’m nervous.”

“So am I,” I said.  “We need to prepare a list of things to talk to him about.”

“I have it,” said Serena.  “Rachel and I worked on it.  I thought it would be good to have someone in on it who didn’t have all the background we did with urushiol and the wafers.”

“Good,” I said.  “Fresh perspective.”

“I chipped in, too,” said Lolita Lane.  “I need to know if I’m changed forever.  I don’t know that I want these things in my head.”

“You controlled them, Lola,” said Nelson.  “You brought them in for the kill.”

“Maybe,” she said.  “But I felt something else.  Not directed at me.  It felt like a … I don’t know.  Like a call.  A broadcast.  I’d never felt that before, and you know I’ve been around these things for as long as you guys have, even though I didn’t know about the pregnant ones.”

Rachel looked at us.  For now, Maddie and Russell were silent.  The girls were all present, many of them sitting on the floor or nodding off on the beds after their dinners. 

“Okay,” said Rachel.  “From the chopper, we came to the conclusion they can call their walking dead brethren for about a mile radius, right?”

“Yeah,” said Nelson.  “Unless there are red-eyes in the mix, then farther.”

“Exactly,” said Rachel.  “But what happens when the source of the broadcast is killed?  Do the other red-eyes continue directing them to the original destination?”

  “Serena, put that down on the Hemp list of questions,” I said.  “I hope he’s run into this.”  I checked my watch.  “Okay, if you want to come, it’s time.  I recommend everyone else be ready for anything.  That means guns for those who can handle them, and rebar spears for everyone else.”

Russell and Maddie nodded and ushered the girls out of the cabin.

Albert joined all of us.  He had a stake in this, too.

A big one.

 

*****

 

“You don’t need to scan,” said Rachel.  “If you were to do that and he answered you, you’d miss it.”

“That’s right,” I said.  “Hemp scans anyway, so he could hear me when he hits my frequency.”

I turned it on and awaited the tremendously slow heating of the tubes.  The batteries had a good charge, for the lights lit up and the needles on the meters bounced. 

“Turn it to 12 meters and just stay there,” Rachel said.  “I’m not that familiar, but I understand it’s an overall good frequency for distance.”

A dull static came from the speakers, and I heard a voice say, “Austin survivors.  South city.  122 souls.”

I pushed the button on the transmitter.  “Hello?  Austin?”

An excited voice came back.  “Yes, this is Austin.  Who is this, please?”

“Dave Gammon in Dunsmuir, California.”

“Wow,” the voice said, then static filled the airwaves until, “California.  Northern?”

I looked at everyone.  “Yes.  Near Mount Shasta.”

“How many of you?”

“Roughly seventeen,” I said.  “We think there are more.”

“Only seventeen,” the voice said.

“I’m sorry,” I said.  “We’re searching for someone in particular, so if you wouldn’t mind keeping this channel clear.  I’m not sure how this works, but if he can’t hear us, we are going to have some trouble.”

“Understood.  I’m not a short wave man, either.  You could be right.  We’re glad you’re alive.  Stay that way.  Over and out.”

“Did he say 122 people?  Souls?” asked Lola.

I nodded. 

“Cool,” said Nelson.  “Hey.  Call Hemp.”

“I’ll try,” I said.  “Hemphill Chatsworth.  Hemphill Chatsworth,” I said.

We waited.

“Hemp Chatsworth,” I said again.  I kept repeating it, pausing for fifteen seconds, then repeating it twice more.

I checked my watch.  It was 5:30 PM, and still nothing.

“California,” said the familiar voice from Austin.

“Yes,” I said.

“This Hemp Chatsworth you’re calling.  I hear him every night.  He normally comes on about this time.”

Nelson reached down and took the transmitter and pushed the button.  “You’ve talked to him, dude?”

“I have,” said the voice.  “A few times.  Thought we could convince them to come here.  They’re happy where they are.  Said they’d rather avoid the roads.”

I took the transmitter back from Nelson.  “Great, Austin.  Thanks for getting our hopes up.  He’s a good friend.”

“Well, thanks to him, we have a good supply of urushiol, and we’re ready to manufacture the WAT-5.”

I felt a swelling of pride.  Without all the work we’d done together – as a family – none of us would have made it out of Concord.  It felt good to have assisted in spreading the word about our zombie solutions.

“Glad to hear it,” I said.  “WAT-5 is amazing.  Prepare to have your mind blown.”

“Dude, you’re starting to sound like me,” said Nelson, smiling.  He pulled a rubber band out of his pocket and pulled his blonde hair back.  His ends were about as split as they could be.

“Good luck.  We’ll surf some other frequencies.  If we run into Hemp, we’ll tell him where you are,” he said.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“My nickname’s Zed,” the voice said.  “I know.  Appropriate.  Good luck.  Over and out.”

We went back to our routine of saying Hemp’s name.  At 5:51 PM Pacific time, we hit pay dirt.

“David, is that you?”

“Dave Gammon!  Yes, it’s Dave!  Hemp?”

“Oh, my word!  It is you!  Are you safe?”

“We are for now, Hemp.  Is everyone there?”

“They’re in the house.  Hold just a moment while I get on the radio and tell them to get out here.  As you know, I have a little shed where I do this.”

Nelson, his fists clenched, jumped in the air, spinning around as he landed.  It looked as though the kid had won the lottery, and we all smiled watching him, even Albert.

Rachel stood up, and to my surprise, went to him and opened her arms.  Nelson looked extra happy and pulled her into his arms, picking her up and spinning her around.

“Okay, they’ll be right in.  Now I know you didn’t call for nothing, so tell me how I can help.”

“We’ve run into some phenomena,” I said.  “God, Hemp, it’s so damned good to hear your voice I can’t tell you.  Nelson’s jumping around like a puppy.”

“Nelson’s there?” he said. 

“Yes, he’s here.  Didn’t he tell you?” I asked, looking at Nelson.  He stopped jumping and looked guilty.

“No, I’m afraid.  Can he hear me?”

“He can,” I said.

“Nelson,” said Hemp.  “You’re very lucky you shared some of your secrets with me before leaving.  I knew that you wanted to go to California with them, and I told the others as much when you went missing.”

Nelson leaned over and took the transmitter from my hand.  He pushed the button.  “I’m sorry, Hemp.  But I’m glad you convinced them I was okay.”

“The first status on your well-being is right now,” he said.  “Unfortunately, Charlie and Gem weren’t as easy to convince.  They were sure you were dead, even when I told them you were practically a genius.  I don’t even want to tell you how much Trina and Taylor miss you.  Easily as much as David and Serena.”

I took the mic back.  “We’re safe, Hemp.  Nelson, Serena, me, Rachel and Lola.”

“Your group has grown!” said Hemp, and I could hear the smile in his voice, even over the vast miles.  “How’s your battery?  Got enough?  Some people want to say hello.”

“Push the button and let them all talk!” I said.  “Is little Flexy there?”

“So’s big Flexy,” said a deeper voice.  It was Flex.  “But the stud’s asleep in his mama’s arms right now.  Good to hear your voice, Dave.”

“I’m here, too,” said Gem.  “Nelson, I’m going to kick the living shit out of you.”

Before I could give the transmitter mic back to Nelson, a pair of much smaller, female voices came on.  “We’re kicking your shit, too, Uncle Nelson, but we miss you!” said Trina, and Taylor followed with, “Yeah!  We love you guys!”

I knew I was smiling, and when I looked around, I saw that all of us were.  It was like being home again, and I didn’t want to turn to serious conversation, but it had to be done.  I didn’t know how long the batteries would last, and I needed to get answers.

“How old is that one?” asked Lola.

“The one who said shit?” asked Serena.  “She’s seven, ready to turn eight.”

Lola shook her head, smiling.

“We love all of you, too,” I said.  “Serena wants to say hello, then we have to get to the point.”

I handed the handset to Serena.

“How are my ladies?” she said.

“I miss watching you ride a motorcycle in your leather cat suit,” said Gem.

“It’s a body suit, but that’s okay.  Dave likes to call it a cat suit, too.”

“You being safe?” asked Gem.

“As much as possible,” said Serena.  “Now.  Charlie, Gem, David is right.  Being separated from you is like my sisters are gone, and Trina and Taylor, you’re like my girls.  I love you all so much, and can’t wait until we’re back home.”

Charlie’s voice came on.  “Same here, Serena.  And tell David, that I miss those dumb awkward moment jokes and that crazy hair of his, and Serena, I
am
your sister.  Did I hear some more are coming back with you?  What … Rachel, and what was it, Lola?”

“Yes,” said Lola, into the mic.  “Lolita Lane, actually.”

“That’s a name,” said Charlie.  “Well, I’m Charlie Chatsworth, and to say what everyone’s thinking, we sound like a couple of comic book characters.”

“You might be right,” said Lola, laughing.

“Can’t wait to meet you guys,” said Charlie.  “Be safe and all of you, just  get back here.  I’m giving it back to Hemp.”

Hearing Charlie’s voice over that microphone was amazing.  All of them were missed, but Charlie and I had a special bond since Shelburne, Vermont when we joined forces to rescue her husband.

“Okay, now that
that’s
out of the way, how can I help?” asked Hemp.

“Hemp, we’re pretty certain my Uncle Bug’s in his complex, but we’ve run into a lot of the red-eyes, and they seem to have more abilities than we initially thought.”

There was a prolonged silence.  “David, sorry – I don’t think I realized you were already in California.  How did you get there so fast?” asked Hemp.

“Chopper,” I said.  “A med-evac.  Rachel flies.”

“Oh, my,” said Hemp.  “Pardon me for sounding selfish and a bit creepy, Rachel, but you have
got
to come back here.”

Rachel did not ask for the mic, but she said, “Nobody with that accent sounds creepy.  I’m pretty sure he could say some creepy things and he’d just sound sexy.”

“It worked on me,” came Charlie’s voice.  “He had me at
zombie
.”

Rachel laughed.  Nelson didn’t.  I thought I saw a tinge of jealousy in his expression.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” I said.  I told him about the mountain complex of Bug’s, the lower entry we feared was inundated with zombies, and our logistical struggle finding another way in.

I touched on red-eyed females and how the vapor inhaled by Lola had not only made her a receiver of messages, but gave her the ability to call them.

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