Dead Hunger VI_The Gathering Storm

by Eric A. Shelman

The door was cracked, so I pushed it open. All three of them were sprawled on the beds dead asleep, the old drawing game abandoned for now.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and gently shook them awake. “Hey, girls,” I said.

  Lola’s eyes opened and she tried to focus. It was still her first day here, and I could see that her sleep was thick and deep. The last thing she wanted was to be awake, and I knew after flying across the country in a helicopter, she probably cherished the relative silence of the house, even with the howling wind and rain outside.

  “We’re passing out WAT-5,” I said. “I guess you have experience with it from your trip with Dave and Serena?”

  Lola smiled. “Oh, yeah. So what you’re saying is, if I want to continue my little nap, this is a perfect opportunity to do it.”

  “How do you feel?” I asked.

  Lola’s eyebrows went up and she nodded her head. “Pretty good, actually. I might like to take the WAT-5 and mess around with my siren abilities a bit.”

  I looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, they asked me if I could repel the red-eyes, and the fact is, I only tried once. Might be one of those things that takes practice.”

  I thought about it. Just because one piece of a particular talent came easily, didn’t mean they all would. Like a diver who can swan dive as though he’s been doing it since birth, but a reverse dive with a triple twist takes him a while to master.

  “Once you’re on the wafer, it’s up to you how you burn the time,” I said. “We’re only doing this because in spite of this weather, Isis seems to be getting them here.”

  Lola stood. The girls were still sleeping soundly. “Where is Isis?”

  “In with Bug,” I answered. “I guess you guys are still pretty wiped, huh?”

  Lola nodded her head and smiled. “Yeah, but relieved. I don’t know how long I’ll stay, but I’m just glad to spend time with other people for now.”

  I know I was mushy, but I already liked this girl, and didn’t want to see her go. “Lola, where would you go?”

  “Texas, for starters,” she said.

  “Texas?” I asked.

  “I love Texas. I like shit kicking music, boots, cowboy hats. Not to mention western holsters and sidearms.”

  “Using the zombie apocalypse to fulfill some fantasy?” I asked, smiling.

  “Maybe,” said Lola. “I don’t know. Maybe some time here with you guys will change my mind, but Texas is definitely on my radar.”

  I shrugged. “Not positive Texas really applies anymore.”

  “There will always be a Texas,” said Lola, smiling. “With or without a United States of America.”

  I had to ask. “Lola, have you ever been to Texas?”

  She nodded. “Once. I was driving through with my mom, and we went through Kerrville. Everyone who passed by waved at us – mostly pickups – and we saw deer on the side of the road with beautiful, tree-covered hills behind them. Not what I pictured about Texas before that.”

  “I just envisioned a cabin in the middle of that,” I said.

  “I’m sure I can find one if I go there,” she said. “I might want to find a partner to enjoy it with, though.”

  “Stick around,” I said. “Maybe this Punch guy will push your buttons.”

  “If he’s a halfway decent guy, I’d rather he flip my switch,” said Lola, smiling. “He doesn’t want to push my buttons.”

  “Okay,” I said. “You’ve got Taylor, I’ll get Trina.” I leaned forward and put my nose in Trina’s ear, puffing air in and out. In a moment, her hand moved up to her ear, trying to push me away. I then resorted to kisses on her neck.

  “Mommy,” Trina groaned, rolling onto her back, her eyes cracking open. I lowered my face and nuzzled my nose into her cheek.

  “C’mon,” I said. “Time for WAT-5.”

  “Yuck,” she grumbled.

  Trina sat up and saw Lola tickling Taylor behind her ear with a very light touch of her fingers. Taylor involuntarily arched her back and pushed her head back, but Lola just moved to a different spot.

  Lola leaned down, her lips very near Taylor’s ear. “You guys get very tired drawing pictures with a fifty-year-old toy,” she whispered.

  “It’s fun,” said Taylor, her eyes opening now. “Did you see what I did?”

  “Yeah, it’s how I learned, silly,” said Lola. “Yours look better than mine.”

  “Okay, up now girls,” I said. “Come out front and we’ll give you the stuff. I want to tell you what’s going on. Who wants to go wake up Bug and Isis?”

  “Isis won’t be sleeping,” said Trina. “Right, mommy?”

  “Right,” I said. “She apparently doesn’t do that.”

  “C’mon, Tay,” said Trina. “Let’s go get them. Mommy, Bug doesn’t sleep in the buff, does he?”

  I laughed out loud and shook my head. “The fucking buff? Where did you hear that?”

  “Nelson.”

  “In what context?”

  Trina cocked her head. “Huh?”

  “How did he use it in a sentence?” I asked, smiling.

  “He said ‘I sleep in the buff. Pajamas make me feel like I’m tied up.’”

  “Sounds like Nelson,” I said.

  “I think so too, and I’ve only known him a week or so,” said Lola.

  Lola and I went into the living room where Serena and Charlie sat slumped against one another, both apparently having taken their wafers at the same time.

  I heard noises on the porch. I thought of Hemp, Doc Scofield and Dave out there. I shook the two girls, who began to stir, then I went to the window to peer between the boards and the window frame.

  There were at least twenty rotters out there. As I stared out, Lola came up behind me and looked through another gap.

  “Shit,” she said. “Isis?”

  “Wasn’t like this yesterday,” I said. “Hasn’t been like this since we settled in.”

  “She’s going to be a challenge,” said Bug, walking in behind Trina and Taylor, Isis in his arms. “One you may or may not want to deal with.”

  I turned away from the window and smiled at him. “The world’s full of challenges, Bug. That beautiful baby deserves protection until she’s old enough to figure out what she’s got built in.”

  “Thank you, Gemina,” said Isis, smiling with a full mouth of visible teeth.

  “You’re welcome, sweetie,” I said.

  “May I?” asked Lola, walking toward Bug and holding out her arms.

  “If it’s okay with Isis, it’s okay with me,” said Bug. “But she can pretty much answer for herself.”

  “Let’s play,” said Isis, holding out her hands.

  Lola took her, and I couldn’t help but smile as I watched the pair. Lola bounced her, and Isis seemed to enjoy it, but she kept looking at the couch, pointing. “Sit!” she said.

  “You want to sit down?” asked Lola.

  “Yes,” she said. “We’ll think to each other,” said Isis.

  Lola carried her to the couch, and Charlie and Serena, who were still shaking away the cobwebs, slid to either side, allowing Lola and Isis room between them.

  Lola balanced Isis on her lap, facing her. Once in position, and being held firmly by Lola, Isis stared into Lola’s eyes. Lola, smiling, stared back.

  Two crimson-eyed girls, sharing a moment. I was fascinated. So, apparently, were Charlie and Serena. They watched, mesmerized.

  “What are they doing?” asked Taylor, leaning on the back of the couch, watching the two.

  Then, almost imperceptibly at first, something began to happen. Mist started drifting from each of their eyes as they fixated on one another.

  No blinking. Their noses were six inches apart, no more, and they did not speak. It seemed that to them, we had all disappeared, and now we all stared at them as they stared at one another.

  The mist was almost laser focused between them. It was the deep red, not the pink of the typical rotter on the porch. It was like th
at of the red-eyes themselves, and now the mist from Lola’s eyes blended with that of the infant, Isis.

  “What is happening?” whispered Charlie.

  Serena slid closer to them and looked closely at Lola. “Her pupils are enormous,” she said. “and the mist is swirling.”

  “Careful,” I said.

  “I’ve never seen Isis put out any vapor before,” said Bug. He had moved around beside of the couch on Serena’s side, and was staring, open-mouthed. “What the hell are they doing?”

  Serena turned her attention to Isis. “Hers, too. Big eyes.”

  It went on and on. Ten minutes passed. Suddenly, it was as if the molecules of which the vapor consisted just vanished. The vapor drifted upward slightly, then it was gone.

  Lola’s expression changed, and her eyes refocused. She turned toward Serena, then Charlie. “Wow,” she breathed.

  “What just happened, Lola?” asked Bug.

  “You might ask your daughter,” said Lola, a slight smile spreading over her lips. “She did it.”

  Bug moved around to the front of the couch and lifted Isis from Lola’s lap. Lola’s hands fell away and he hoisted her up.

  “Hi, Daddy,” she said.

  “Hi, baby girl,” he said. “What were you doin’ just then?”

  “Learning of her past,” she said. “I wanted to know how she became like me.”

  “But she’s not like you, sweetheart,” said Bug. “She sleeps, she eats things other than meat.”

  “She has moving thoughts, daddy.”

  He looked at all of us. “Moving thoughts?” he asked. “How do you mean?”

  “Thoughts that carry on the wind,” she said.

  “How the hell do you even know what wind is?” asked Bug. “You’re just a baby.” He hugged her to him. When he pulled back, she looked at him again. She smiled, her full-sized teeth gleaming.

  “Because you know, daddy. You’ve taught me much.”

  “But Isis,” said Bug, with almost what I’d call fear in his eyes. “We’ve never talked about things like that. About wind and weather and stuff.”

  Isis reached out and placed an open palm on the side of her father’s head. “I hear from here,” she said. “When you sleep, and when you sit quietly. I learn from you, daddy. I know you’re sad about mama. You see her when you sleep.”

  Bug turned around and dropped down hard between Serena and Lola. Serena pressed herself into the arm of the couch to give Bug room.

  “How do you know, baby?” he asked. “That daddy’s sad?”

  “You cry with your eyes closed,” she said. “I listen to your thoughts. You always dream of mama. Every night.”

  Bug started to cry. Isis just stared.

  “I don’t remember my dreams,” he said.

  “That’s okay,” said Isis. “You remember mama. The pictures in your head let me see her, too. She is beautiful.”

  “Give me my goddamned wafer,” said Bug. “Only thing’s gonna keep me from bawlin’ like an idiot is to pass out.”

  Lola stared at Isis. “It went both ways,” she said. “Isis shared with me, too.”

  “What could she know to share?” I asked.

  “Dave got to the house,” said Lola. “But there is death there.”

  I looked at my Uzi by the door. It was instinctive. The handheld clicked. “Gem? Gem? You read?”

  It was on the table. Charlie flew off the couch and snatched it up. “Hemp, we read! What’s going on? Is everyone all right?”

  “No, I’m afraid not,” he said. “We’ve lost the girl.”

  “What do you mean we’ve lost her?” asked Charlie, staring at us as she spoke.

  “Her mother’s dead,” came Hemp’s sad voice. “Her … who’s listening, Charlie?”

  Charlie looked at us, checked the back patio, and walked to the door. She slid it open and went outside.

  We didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. None of us talked.

  “Raylene is in transition,” said Isis with perfect annunciation. “Gina is one of the hungerers.”

  I understood. I walked quickly to the slider and pushed it open. I closed it behind me after I stepped onto the porch.

  “Charlie,” I said.

  She held up her hand, listening to Hemp on the other end of the radio. I held out my hand and she passed it to me.

  “Hemp,” I said.

  “Gem?”

  “Yeah, Hemp. It’s me. Isis says Raylene is in transition. Take her outside and shoot her in the head.”

  “Her daughter got a good head start on that, Gem. But the information you received is correct. She didn’t destroy Raylene’s brain.”

  “Shoot her now.”

  There was a pause on the line.”

  “Dave just took her outside. She’s unconscious.”

  “Good,” I said. “No sense in her being frightened.”

  “Gem?” said Hemp.

  “Yeah?”

  “How did she know?”

  “Isis?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Hemp.

  “Same way she knew about Tony,” I said. “She just knows shit.”

  “Okay. We’ve taken the WAT-5, so we’re good now.”

  “Not if a red-eye is directing the show,” I said. “Hurry back. All of you. And get Nelson and Rachel on your way back. They need to be on WAT-5, too.”

  “10-4,” said Hemp. “Out.”

  We waited. There didn’t seem to be anything else to do. It was now working its way toward 9:00 at night.

  Suddenly static sounded on the Ham radio. Then a voice: “Flex Sheridan. Flex Sheridan. Fle-”

  It cut off.

  Shit! It’s on scan!

  I ran to it and moved back one frequency, then grabbed the transmitter. “Flex! Are you there? Flex?”

  I tried to calm my pounding heart.

  “I’m here, Gem,” I heard, but it was broken up and I only caught enough to be able to piece together what was said. The storm wasn’t making things easier.

  “Are you alright, Flex?”

  “I am, Gem. I’m right outside of Charlotte, but it’s night now, so I’m wonderin’ if I shouldn’t wait until morning to go.”

  “See many abnormals?” I asked, my heart settling now, just at the sound of his voice.

  “Yeah, they’re here,” he said. “Gem, I have some terrible news.”

  “Is it … about Tony?” I asked. “If it is, then you don’t have to tell us. We know.”

  There was silence. I took it as confusion, and understandably so. “Flex? Isis knew,” I said.

  “The … the baby?” he asked.

  “There is only one Isis, Flex. And she knew. She also said you’re with someone named Punch.”

  “My God,” said Flex. “I’m fightin’ chills right now.”

  “Is he safe?” I asked. “Is there a Punch?”

  “There is a Punch,” said Flex. “And he’s a good guy, but I need to warn you, Gem. The place where he was, Buckfield, there’s a bunch of heartless, desperate motherfuckers. They’re not rotters, which means they use weapons and they think.”

  “Okay, but why do you think they’ll come here?”

  “Not sayin’ they will,” said Flex. “But we winched a bunch of cars to clear the bridge, so they might figure out we came from the south. They could just drive until they find out from where.”

  “Why, Flex? Would they try to kill us?”

  “Probably some, yeah,” said Flex. “But according to Punch, they’re short on women, and you know what that could mean. I want you to be extra careful.”

  “How far from us?” I asked.

  “About forty-five minutes north. I don’t know if they’ll try anything in this kind of weather, but I have a feeling they might come looking around that way. They could use the storm to mask their approach.”

  “Are you safe?” I asked.

  “For now. How’s little Flexy?”

  “No symptoms so far,” I said. “But Hemp says that’s no
t unusual. The girl just died, Flex. Gina.”

  “Jesus,” I said.

  I turned away from the group and held the transmitter close. “After she died, she turned, babe,” said Gem. “Then the bitch ate some of her mother.”

  “I don’t want to wait until the mornin’, Gem.” He said, new determination in his voice. “But if I think it’s safer, I’ll have to. If it’s not too big a risk, I’m gettin’ what we need and comin’ home. Tonight.”

  “Don’t get killed. Take WAT-5. Promise.”

  “Don’t worry, Gem. I promise I won’t be stupid.”

  “Put Punch on, Flex.”

  “What?” asked Flex.

  “I want to talk to Punch.”

  “Okay,” said Flex. “Go ahead.”

  I waited a couple of seconds. “Punch?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Hi, Gem.”

  “Don’t do anything to hurt my husband.”

  “I hadn’t planned on it,” said the man’s voice, which sounded gritty, but somehow timeworn and honest. I don’t know how I got that out of a few words, but I tended to make snap judgments that usually turn out right.

  “I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, but I’m telling you that if you do, I’ll find you and kill you.”

  Punch didn’t hesitate. He said, “I’d do the same thing if I were you, but I can promise you we’re working on the same side. So don’t worry. I got his back. Can’t wait to meet you.”

  “Okay, then,” I said, feeling much better. “You guys get in there, get the shit and get back here.”

  “Will do. Here’s Flex.”

  I heard a gunshot, then another, over the radio. “Flex?” I said, my heart pumping.

  Two seconds later, Flex’s voice came back on. “No worries, Gem. Had to take out a couple while you threatened Punch. Don’t worry, babe. He’s a good guy of the Semper Fi variety.”

  “Good. I love you, babe,” I said. “We’ll talk about how you knew I threatened him when you get home. Be careful.”

  “I will,” said Flex. “I’ll leave the Ham on this frequency. Radio if anything changes with Flexy or anyone else. And Gem?”

  “Yeah, Flex?”

  “Give my love to everyone.”

  “You just did.”

  It fell to static again, and this time I turned it off.

  The door opened and Scofield, Dave and Hemp came in. All three were covered in blood.