The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (119 page)

BOOK: The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5
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Kev’s eyes pleaded.  “When?”

“We just found out about it,” said Flex.  “The kids were handling it.  They didn’t want us to tell anyone.”

“Well, if he turned, it’s important.”

“He wasn’t bitten,” said Hemp.  “He killed himself, but afterward, he turned.”

“And you didn’t believe that was possible?”

“No.  But it was more of a guess than anything else,” said Hemp.  “Which means that I may have also been wrong about those who were immune not becoming diggers.”

“Let’s get back to the infection thing,” said Reeves.  “If what you believe is true, I am in a hurry here.  We need to find a way off this roof and out of here.”

“How many you think were in there?” asked Flex.

“I’d put it at over a hundred,” said Hemp.  “Most went right to the outer perimeter.  Blocked all the exits.”

“Smart, right?” asked Reeves.  “Indirect domination.  Make sure we’ve got nowhere to go so they can get us in their own time.”

“This is fucked up,” said Flex.

Hemp got to his feet and walked to the edge of the roof.  The gravel crunched beneath his boots as he reached the corner and looked over.

“C’mon, gentlemen.  “Everyone go and look for an exterior ladder or somewhere we can climb.”

The men split up, with Hemp taking the south side of the building, and the others heading west and north.  They’d approached the building on the east side and had not made note of any features on the outside of the structure there.

“Over here!” shouted Kev, who had developed a limp.  “It’s not a ladder, but it’s something.”

They ran over.  They heard a pounding behind them and turned to see the hatch opening a few inches, then closing again.  Hemp stared at it for too long, then turned back to where Reeves pointed.

“Dumpster?” asked Hemp.

“It’s all we got unless you want to chance asphalt,” said Flex.

“Looks like there’s cardboard in it,” said Kev.  “Don’t know what’s under the cardboard, but –”

“It’s all we got,” said Flex.

The hatch burst open, and the top of Corn Silk’s head emerged.

“Who the fuck
is
that bitch?” asked Flex, swinging his gun around.

She stopped and quickly crouched just before Flex fired.  His rounds ripped into the three zombies that had emerged from the hatch behind her, even as more crawled up through the access panel, but she was now flat on the surface of the roof.

Both males and females poured through the hatch and onto the roof, and Flex’s rounds had taken out several of them before his gun fell silent.

Not all of the females appeared to be pregnant, but it did not mean, Hemp knew, that they weren’t.  Anywhere from a few weeks to 9 months – any of them would be experiencing extremely high estrogen levels. 

“We don’t have extra rounds, and we can’t take them all!” said Hemp.  “We need to get off the roof and to the truck!  It’s our only shot.  Kev, you go first, and go now!”

“Give me your gun first, Kev,” said Flex.  Kev handed it over and Flex turned toward Corn Silk, who had gotten to her feet and begun to advance on them again.

She stopped and dropped.  Fast.  Lightning fast.

Hemp stared in disbelief.

“This is bullshit!” said Flex, and stormed toward her.  As he approached, she spider-crawled backward, away from him, her dead eyes staring at him – at his weapon.

Hemp turned toward Kev.  “Go now!”

Reeves stood on the edge of the roof for ten seconds, clearly gauging the jump and trajectory.  The dumpster was approximately five feet from the building, and the drop was around fourteen feet.

He jumped.  When he hit the interior of the dumpster with a thud, Hemp heard him scream.  The scream was followed by a constant moan, and Hemp heard Reeves say, “Shit.”

“What is it, Kev?  Are you okay?”

“No!” he shouted.  “Got something through my side.  I don’t know.  Rebar or something.  Thick … metal.”

“Can you move?”

“Not far,” he said.  “Damn, it hurts.”

Hemp looked back at Flex, but now the roof was crowded with the creatures.  They had continued crawling from the hatch with more coordination than they should have had.  The WAT-5 might have been preventing a frenzy, but they all seemed to know they were to come after us.

How could that be? Hemp thought. 

“Flex!  We need to get the hell off here, so if you’re going to kill her, you’d better get to it, chap!”

Flex stood over Corn Silk as she reached the edge of the roof.  He raised the weapon.

She slipped over the edge, out of sight.

Hemp stared.  The other walkers kept closing in on him, the nearest now around ten feet away.

“Flex!  Run!”

“She jumped!” he said in disbelief, even as he ran back toward Hemp.

“I’m as far out of the way as I can get,” said Kev from below.  “Get down here!”

Hemp stared at the group of mostly males.  They had lost much of their organization, milling about the roof now, no longer pursuing them as before.  Perhaps without the guidance of Corn Silk, combined with the WAT-5, they no longer recognized Hemp and Flex as their targets.

Just in case his theory was wrong, Hemp turned and fired into the heads and bodies of the creatures who were closest now.  Flex reached him, turned, and fired into the crowd as well.  They both continued taking out the bloodthirsty walkers using single shots until their guns both clicked.

Hemp looked down at the dumpster.  As Kev had landed within, the impact had pushed the wheeled dumpster another foot or so away from the building.  Kev lay on his back with something protruding from his side, his agonized face staring up at Hemp. 

Hemp could see it was a metal shaft of some kind.  There was only a three-foot area available in which to land.  If he miscalculated his leap, Hemp would either impale himself on the steel that had punctured Reeves or hit the steel rim on the other side.

“Go, Hemp.  They’re coming.”

As Hemp looked down, he saw more zombies come from around the building, moving toward the dumpster.  Their eyes were all looking upward toward the roof, and did not seem to know that Kev was only yards from where they now advanced.

Hemp jumped feet first, and landed cleanly, falling against the inside wall of the dumpster.  The cardboard compressed, and he was lucky enough to avoid being run through with steel.  He turned to Kev, who lay on his back, a cylindrical rod of some kind protruding through his ribcage.

“I haven’t much time, Kev.  I’m going to lift you.  Just a bit.”

“Okay,” said Kev, gritting his teeth.

Hemp put his arm beneath Reeves’ back and used it a sort of fulcrum.  The rod retracted into him the same distance.

“It’s connected to something else, Kev,” said Hemp.  “That’s good news, actually.  I’m going to do my best to pull you off of it.  When I do – if I can – I want you to press your hand against the front wound.  Can you do that?”

“Remains to be seen,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Hemp stood in a crouched position, his legs straddling Reeves.  He hooked both hands beneath his arms and counted off.

“One … two … three.”

And he pulled, his pumping heart charging his veins with adrenaline.

There was a sucking sound as Reeves’ body came clean of the spike.  Still holding him, Hemp kicked at the rod with his right leg, moving it aside.  Something shifted beneath the pile, obviously the connected piece of steel.

“Can you kneel?”

“Maybe,” said Reeves.  Hemp pulled him up and forward, and Kev leaned against the front of the dumpster, steadying himself.

“I’m going to stuff some of this paper into the entry wound.  You hold your hand over the front, tight.  If you start to feel faint, stuff paper in that, too.  Ready?”

“Hell no.”

“Okay.  Ready.”  Hemp took a piece of paper and wadded it tightly in his hand.  He reached behind Reeves and pulled up his shirt.  Moving his hand up his back, he found the wound and began working the paper in.

Reeves screamed just as Hemp was satisfied it would hold.

“Sorry, Kev.  I’m really sorry.  Now move as far to the left as you can … just a foot or so.  I need to get out and Flex needs to get down from there.”

He got on his feet and peered over the edge.  There were five or six of the freaks coming toward the dumpster.

Hemp looked at Reeves, then jerked his head back to the creatures.

Corn Silk was crawling along the macadam behind them, one leg horribly twisted.  She had lost her relatively smooth mobility, but not her determination.  She was making her way to them to finish what she had started, no doubt.

“Okay, Kev.  We’ll get you out of there, but for now do your best to save your energy.”

“Got it, Hemp.”

Hemp crawled out of the dumpster and hid behind it so the advancing zombies didn’t have a clear view of him.

Hemp looked up.  Flex stood poised on the edge, alternately looking at the dumpster below and behind him.

“Flex, I cleared it!” he called.  “Jump feet first on the right side.  And hurry!  More are coming, mate.”

“Dude, I was just waitin’ for your go!”

With that, Flex leapt from the roof and made it cleanly into the dumpster.  A thud, and Flex’s face emerged.  He looked down.

“How you holdin’ up, bud?”

“I’m holding.”

“We can outrun them, Flex,” said Hemp.  “Jump out, quick!”

Flex did, then stopped, looking at Reeves inside.  “What about Kev?”

“Close the bloody lid, and we’ll get the truck!”

They nodded to one another, and each of them scrambled behind the bin and flipped the heavy duty, plastic lids closed.

“Hang tight, Kev!” shouted Flex, slapping the bin with his hand.  “We’ll be back for you in one second!”

Hemp ran alongside Flex.  They did their best to get the attention of the creatures moving around the building, now up to around twenty.  The zombies on the roof stood on the edge and looked down at them, but did not jump. 

Eventually they were no longer peering over the edge.

Hemp knew where they were going.  They were moving back toward the hatch.  They had learned how to use a ladder and they knew how to get safely off the roof.

The truck was within ten feet.  Flex ran to the driver’s side door and jumped in.  Hemp did the same just as Flex fired the engine.

Hemp swung the machine gun around and turned the sight on the GPS screen.  Corn Silk was too low to the ground to nail with the top-mount gun, but Flex stopped the car beside her.  He pulled his 9mm out and fired four shots into her head.

She twitched and convulsed, then fell still.  He drove on.

They reached the horde at the dumpster in another six seconds.  They were gathered around the metal box, but turned toward the truck when it roared to within feet of them.

But now something about them was different, Hemp thought.  Somehow less focused.  They milled rather than walked with any intention or purpose, just as they had always done. 

Was this because Corn Silk was dead?

“Turn the truck around, Flex!” shouted Hemp.

“Why?”

“Just do it, and give me your knife.”

“Hemp, we’ve got to get to Kev!”

“Flex, go back to the one you just killed and give me your knife.  I need a big one.”

Flex stared at him for a second, then punched the truck around, stopping beside the dead zombie.  He reached beneath the seat of the truck and withdrew a large dagger with a curved blade and a brass hilt. 

“Jesus, where did you get this?”

“On a shopping run.  Hurry.”

“Keep an eye out and cover me,” said Hemp, jumping out of the truck and running to where Corn Silk lay.  He gripped her hair in his hand and pulled her head up.  He placed the knife to her throat and turned his head toward Flex.

He watched Flex’s eyes widen in disbelief as he sawed back and forth until he felt the cervical vertebrae separate, and he sliced through the last bit of skin before exiting her flesh.

“Shit goes in back!” said Flex.  “Hurry, Hemp.”

Hemp ran back to the truck, lifted the toneau cover and dropped the head inside.  He jumped back in the truck and Flex hit the gas.

“Fuck, Hemp, this is beginning to be a habit with you.  Why did you need that?”

“Look at them, Flex.  They’re not as organized now.  She was controlling them, I believe.  But we don’t have much time.  It’s a feeling.”

Hemp replaced the magazine on his H&K.  Flex rolled up to the dumpster and Hemp swung the weapon out the window.

“Don’t fire!” said Flex.  “Too close.  It might punch through the dumpster and hit Kev.”

Flex spun the wheel and hit the gas.  The cow catcher mounted to the front of the truck caught and flung several of the walkers away, and as he passed the dumpster, he swung it back around and sideswiped the bin.

This took out several more of the creatures who had previously been trying to lift the plastic lids and get to where Kev lay hidden, but now just seemed to wander aimlessly.  This was more proof that they had been under Corn Silk’s control.  With the WAT-5 in their systems, they did not sense they were a food source. 

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