The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 (24 page)

Black-red chunks of meat and blood clots stuck to Jason’s face like oatmeal on a baby’s.  His eyes looked strangely vacant, but luminescent.  In what seemed an instinctive motion, he immediately pushed himself up from the floor in my direction, those fucking eyes staring, his bloody teeth, long tendrils of something dangling from them, grinding together.  His arms reached for me.

My Uzi already in position, I blew his freakish eyes through the back of his head.  He’d been less than four feet from the door, and my full, two-second blast sent him flying backward twice the distance.  He slammed into the refrigerated cooler wall and didn’t move again.

I would’ve run, but I needed to pee and I needed supplies.  The Uzi would protect me and I didn’t plan on stopping again.

I looked back through the front glass windows and saw nobody.   I was still alone.  Based on the most likely company I could anticipate, that was good.  Alone was good.  I wouldn’t have to blow alone to pieces.

As I turned to locate the restrooms, I saw, in my peripheral vision, a car pass by on the main highway.  I felt an involuntary swell of relief.  There were others alive, too.  They hadn’t yet been infected with whatever this disease was, so at least I wouldn’t be alone in the world.

Yes, Flex came to my mind again.  He never really left it.  At that point I didn’t really, if I was being honest, expect to ever see him again, and it made my heart sink even further.

One more glance outside and I skirted around the muck on the floor of the mart and found the restroom.  Unlocked.  I went inside, locked the door, and did what I needed to do.  I tried the faucets and found the water was still on.  I splashed it on my face and wet my hair.  I was exhausted, and I needed revitalizing.

When I was ready to leave the room, I stopped, remained very still, and listened.  I didn’t hear anything.  From what I’d seen so far, these zombies were more like bulls in china shops than stealth fighters, so greeted with silence, I turned the knob and opened the door.  Stepping out, I tried the other bathroom door.  I needed to clear this place before I started shopping.  No surprises.  I didn’t need any more of them.

The men’s room was empty.  I went to the back storage room and found it to be void of anything or anyone, too.  I saw the clerk behind the counter, though, as I was grabbing the plastic grocery bags.  He was in similar condition to the businessman in the customer area, and I wondered if Jason could’ve wreaked all this horror alone.  I doubted it, but I couldn’t control it, and fuck if I didn’t have this Uzi in case my suspicions were correct.

I ran toward the cooler.  Yes, Jason’s ripped up zombie-body was in front of the glass door I needed.  Behind it were quarts of water and Gatorade.

I held my breath and grabbed the handle, pulling it open as far as I could, and inserted my knee behind it as I slung my machine gun over my shoulder by its strap.  I pushed the door backward with both hands and the zombie slid in its own slime, leaving a nice bloody two-foot wide streak of muck on the floor behind it, and full access to the hydration I needed so desperately.

I filled my bags, then grabbed some granola bars and cheese and peanut butter crackers.  I thought I was done, but some Lunchables seemed to be calling me from a chest cooler by the door, so I took six of them, too.

I had three bags filled, and when I pushed the door open, I saw two more of them.

Them
.

They hadn’t seen me yet, but one of them was wearing a uniform similar to Jason’s.  I assumed he was the other one who’d helped his fellow mechanic eat the clerk and businessman.  I wasn’t going to add artist to his list of consumed human beings, so I moved all three bags into my left hand and dropped the Uzi down into the fire position and ran.

My footsteps slamming on the ground drew their attention.  Either that or they smelled me, or something.  I know that recently, Hemp has learned that sound doesn’t necessarily draw them, but perhaps the eardrums die after a couple of days.  No matter.  They saw me, and I was bee-lining for my car.  How they detected me wasn’t necessarily on my mind at that moment.

And they were moving pretty fast toward me.  They weren’t angling to cut me off, as would be instinctual for humans; they just came right toward me in that staggering, stumbling movement, as though balance had become more of a challenge since they decided that people were what’s for dinner.

I screamed as I reached the door of the Camaro, and the creatures were only about five yards away, both side-by-side.  I pulled the door open and threw the bags of food and water inside, then jumped in, my hand pulling the door closed even as I dropped into the seat.

The fingers of one of them curled around the top of the door of my car as I yanked it closed, and as it slammed, the fingers were caught up to the knuckles.

This one was named Buddy.  Buddy’s face was pressed against the driver’s side window, screaming at the top of his lungs, assuming he used them anymore, and he clawed at the glass with his free hand as he struggled to either get free, or to get at me.

The engine fired immediately, and I pressed the clutch and threw the car into first gear.  The other freakshow had leaned over the hood, and as I popped the clutch and the car jerked forward, he was thrown sideways, slammed into Buddy, and tumbled away from my car.  I reached the drive and turned into the street, putting distance between me and the gas station.

I was dragging Buddy along with me, and to be quite fucking frank, it was freaking the shit out of me.  I was worried that if I tried to open the door even a crack to free his fingers that he might find purchase with his other hand, and the entire door could fly open with the weight of his body. 

I needed to calm down.  I could do this, I knew.  So ignoring the crazed, screaming zombie hanging from my window, I made sure I was on a deserted section of the road before I downshifted and slowed the car to a stop.  I put it in neutral, set the parking brake, and left the engine running.

I calmly picked up the Uzi and removed the magazine.  I opened the metal box containing the ammunition, and found that Uncle Rogelio had restocked.  I filled the magazine, ignoring the pounding and screaming coming from my left side, then closed the box.  I secured the clamp, placed it on the passenger floorboard, and positioned the weapon in the crook of my right shoulder, the index finger of my right hand securely on the trigger.

I leaned back toward the passenger seat, aimed toward the window and hit the DOWN button.

I fired.  The lead that flew from my gun cut the fucker’s head clean off.  It tumbled to the ground as I rolled the window back up. 

I realized my entire body was trembling, and I felt vomit coming back up my throat again, so I dropped the gun on the passenger seat, disengaged the parking brake, pushed in the clutch, and took off again.  When I was five feet forward, I opened the door and the body dropped away.  I rolled another fifteen feet and stopped the car.  I opened the door and puked my guts until I was dry heaving onto the gravel road.

When I was finished, I felt better, but empty.  I got back on the highway, swerved around traffic snarls, more zombies and violated human bodies, and I didn’t stop again until I got to Flex.

When I saw him standing there in Jamie’s yard, I can’t tell you how I felt.  The tremendous sense of relief that I wasn’t alone in this anymore.  And when I saw the kindness and love in his eyes, I knew I was home.

I didn’t even give leaving my new Camaro behind a single thought as I got inside that old Suburban alongside the love of my life, Flex Sheridan and his little, beautiful niece Trina Leighton.

Whatever happened from this point forward, I knew we’d face it together.

CHAPTER
TWO

Charlie, Trina and I stood staring at one another, me clutching my Uzi and her holding her crossbow with an overstuffed quiver of arrows strapped on her back.  As isolated as Flex’s rural Georgia home was, it seemed trouble had found us.

The zombies had found us.

The machine gun fire echoed in my ears, endless amounts of it.  If there were that many zombies out there, Flex and Hemp needed our help.  I ran over to retrieve Trina’s .22 pistol and pulled it quickly out of the box.  I fumbled with a box of ammunition and filled it to capacity.  Only eight rounds.

Kneeling down beside Trina, I held the gun out to her.

“Baby, we’re going outside to help Uncle Flexy and Uncle Hemp.  I’m not willing to leave you here.”

“Gem,” Charlie said, worry in her eyes.

“I know, I know.”  I looked back at Trina.

“This might be scary, baby.  There are some men and women out there who don’t really look right, and they don’t act right.  They’ve got the same disease your mama had, and we’re going to have to shoot them.”

“Can’t we just lock her inside, Gem?” Charlie asked.

I shook my head.  “Charlie, I don’t know how many there are, and I don’t know where they are. I want her with us.”

I looked back at this little girl, who hadn’t said a word.  “Baby, can you be brave?  Take this gun and shoot one of these things if it comes near you?”

Trina looked confused.  “But you told me never to point it at anyone,” she said.

“I know I did, sweetie.  But remember, I also told you only if it’s a bad person.  These are bad people.”

“But mama wasn’t bad,” she said, her lip quivering.

“No, she wasn’t.  But this disease can change you, and the people we’re going to see out there are bad.  I want you to aim for their heads.  Only their heads.  Point it right at their faces, and if one gets near you I want you to be very brave and pull that trigger like we taught you.  Do you think you can do that?”

She nodded.  “I can.”

I gave her the gun.  She took it and held the barrel down toward the floor.

“You ready?”

Charlie said “Hold on.  Let’s grab extra magazines for Hemp and Flex.”

“Shit, how did I forget that?” I said.  My mind was whirling.  Of course we should bring extra ammo for them.

We grabbed a tote bag and dropped in everything we could carry.

“Let’s go,” I said.

“Trina, stay behind us.  Look in all directions all the time, and if you see anyone coming near you that isn’t one of us, then you raise that gun and you aim for the head.  Don’t be afraid, just shoot.  One time.  If it keeps coming, you shoot again.  At the head.  Got it?”

“I got it, Gemmy.”

We headed out the door and ran at a speed that Trina could match toward the tree line.  The machine gun pops had become less frequent.

“They’re running out of ammo,” said Charlie.  “They’re preserving their rounds.”

I wanted to run faster, but Trina was struggling to keep up already.  As we approached the main path where the guys had set up most of the traps, we saw Flex and Hemp standing back to back.  There was a circle of zombies around them, some on the ground dead, but others scrambling over their fallen brethren to get to them.

The air smelled of decaying flesh and gunpowder.  The haze of gun smoke obscured the woods, like a low-hanging mist.

“Flex!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, still approaching the woods.  “We’re here!  Hold on!”

We were just on the outside of the heavier trees, but could see both men clearly now, back to back, shooting one at a time, one round at a time.

Without looking at me he yelled “I’ve only got another couple of rounds left, Gem!  I’m not even sure how many.”

Flex fired again, taking out the closest zombie with an explosion of decaying brain matter mixed with blood and skin.  Then he turned toward me and just briefly, our eyes met.  It was as though he was saying
goodbye
with that tremendously sad gaze, almost the same way he looked over a year ago when I told him I was leaving him.  I knew right then there was no fucking way he was going anywhere.

I’d die before I let that happen.  At least then I’d have no idea I’d lost him; I’d have no thoughts, no remorse, no sadness at all.  Ignorance is bliss.  Death creates ignorance.  Therefore death is bliss.  Fucked up logic, but I didn’t want to live without this man by my side.

“Don’t you dare give up, Flex!” I shouted.

I threw a quick glance back at Trina, who was right behind us, and reached into my bag as we stepped into the shade and within ten yards of the ongoing battle.  Several of the creatures had seen or smelled us, and moved in our direction, shambling over the uneven forest floor.

My hands shook as I pulled a full magazine out of the bag.  It was for Hemp’s MP5. 

“Here, Charlie.  Get this to Hemp somehow.”  I held out the magazine and she snatched it quickly out of my hand. 

I quickly grabbed another magazine for Flex’s K7.  There were around fifteen zombies closing in on them, their progress slowed by the stacking bodies on all sides.  There were now seven more moving toward us.

I heard one of the boys’ guns click.  A moment later, Hemp gripped his gun like a baseball bat, prepared to smash the nearest attacker out of the park.

“Hemp!  Catch!” shouted Charlie, and tossed the magazine toward him, now only eight yards from where they stood.  The moment the magazine left her hand, she let fly the arrow already locked in the crossbow and had another loaded within four seconds.  She was the goddamned cup-stacking champion of crossbow loading, firing
and
accuracy.

Two of the creatures, one in front of the other, felt the brunt of her first arrow’s impact as it entered directly through the first creature’s eye socket – which seemed to be her favorite target – and into the cranium of the one directly behind it.

Instead of falling forward, they staggered and teetered sideways, falling over like a zombie tinker toy.

A dead zombie tinker toy.

Hemp swung his MP5 and smashed one of the decaying zombies in the side of the head, sending blood splattering sideways, and the monster to the ground.

“I’m dropping, Flex!”

Flex took a step forward.  They had been back to back, using one another to buffer the kick of the machine guns as they fired.  Hemp bent down and scooped up the magazine Charlie had thrown him.  As he bent down he ejected the magazine from his gun, and as he stood upright again, he locked the new one in place and fired just in time; two zombies were within three feet of him.  The blood sprayed, and the zombies went down.  They began to fall backward, but the two layers of oncoming creatures pushed them forward and they collapsed almost at the men’s feet.

“Flex!  I’m throwing you a full mag!” I shouted, and I tossed it. 
Shit!
I thought.   It was nowhere near where it had to be for him to reach it.  It landed five feet away and there were more zombies closing in from all sides.

I might have just killed him.

Trina stood, gripping her revolver in both hands, the hammer pulled back.  I looked quickly down at her and prayed with all my might that she would live through this.

“Be ready, Trini!” I shouted.  I ran into the trees behind the zombies closing in on Flex and once I was sure the boys were out of my line of fire, I took out two of them.

Both had been completely nude, their bodies covered in pustules, cuts and welts.  Their skin hung in flaps from their arms, legs and faces, and once my rounds exploded their brains, the damage was complete.  They fell away.

This opened up a path for Flex, who ejected his spent magazine and dove toward the errant one I’d thrown.  He landed nearly atop it, grabbed it and slammed it into his gun. 

But they were nearly on top of him already.  I held my breath and prayed even harder, unable to fire on the threat without hitting him with my spray of bullets.

Lying on his back he fired upward and took out two that were ready to drop down on top of him.  By the time they did, they were a mass of blood and gore and no longer a threat.

This shit was too crazy.  And my little Trina looked frozen.

“Trina, stand with your back against a big tree, honey!  Now!”

Trina, despite her obvious fear and confusion, obeyed immediately.  She had not yet fired a shot.  She scurried to a large pine and pressed herself against it, her gun held high in her hands.

Charlie ran into the woods, and it appeared she was attempting to flank the remaining zombies.  As I fired and took out another three in four quick bursts of fire, one of her arrows flew and pinned another of the formerly female creatures to a tree.  She’d missed her head, but the arrow appeared to have punched through her shoulder blade and embedded deep into the pine, pinning the human-thing there.

She ignored that one, no longer an immediate threat.  She was using her arrows sparingly, making each one count.

Flex and Hemp were both back in business, and it seemed, gaining the advantage and their confidence once again.

“I think we’re going to get ‘em!” Flex shouted, bringing down another creature who wore what appeared to be the uniform of a restaurant busboy or dishwasher.  The once-white apron was covered in blood and filth, and now, much of the busboy-zombie’s brain.

The clouds had been building all day, and now thunder rolled across the sky above us.  The day had begun to grow darker, and shadows closed in on us, the smoky haze combining with the fading sun to make visibility an issue now.

“Gem!” shouted Hemp.  “Trina!”

I looked over, the immediate area around me clear for the moment.

One of the shambling creatures was five feet away, approaching her head-on, and I was too far away to kill it.  Charlie, who was about thirty yards on the opposite side of Hemp and Flex, let arrow after arrow fly, making good progress taking out the moving dead things, and as far as I knew, she wasn’t aware of Trina’s situation.

My heart skipped two beats and I held my breath as I watched her, her arms held straight out, both hands gripping the butt of the revolver.  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her; I wanted to call out to her, tell her to
shoot, shoot!
but I didn’t want to distract her for a split second, because I knew if I did, she would look at me in time for me to see her die.

She fired the gun.  The bullet appeared to pass through the thing’s neck, but I couldn’t be sure from this distance.  It kept coming.  Three feet.  Two feet.  She fired again, this time the bullet hitting it in the chest, the blood spray fanning out behind it.  The long rifle round from Trina’s gun sent it off balance, but it quickly recovered and regained the foot or two it had lost.

Trina cried now as the zombie closed the distance between them.  She dropped her gun, slid down the bark of the tree to rest on her bottom and put her hands over her head.

I didn’t have to see or hear it to know she was crying, frightened beyond all comprehension.

I screamed then, frantic to draw the creature’s attention away from her.  My muscles tensed as I started to break into a run, but before I could take the first step I felt dead, scaly arms curl around my neck, yanking me backward.  The stench of decay filled my nostrils.

*****

I was flat on my back, the sound of machine gun fire from Hemp and Flex’s weapons still filling the forest. It had begun to rain – not just a sprinkle, but a torrent.  The woods were alive with the cacophony of giant raindrops pummeling the trees and forest floor, along with the screams and moans of living and dead men and women in the throes of battle.

Holding onto my Uzi as I fell, I saw, just for a brief moment, the pinkish mist forming, beginning to cloud from the eyes of the creature hunched over me.  I jammed my gun barrel skyward, deep into the monster’s throat and pushed the butt upward to get the right angle. 

Turning my face away, and driven by my desire to protect a little girl who meant the entire world to me, I screamed “Get the fuck away from me you freak!” 

I fired a continuous burst, blowing the thing’s brains through the back of its head.  I grew woozy for a moment, but clearly I’d stopped the zombie before it could paralyze me physically and send me into darkness.

Trina screamed.  She screamed again.  Then it was a constant, piercing cry.

And I was like a crazed mama grizzly charging to protect her cub when I pushed out from under the dead weight of that very dead zombie and jumped to my feet.

And then my heart soared and I laughed out loud, the shrill sound threatening to drown out the torrential rain that pounded the ground with furious power.

The rotter that had been ready to drop onto Trina and bite into her flesh was now frozen on its knees dead.  Its head was against the bark of the pine, a perfectly fired arrow protruding from the back of its skull, its sharp tip embedded deep within the tree.