Dead Hunger VI_The Gathering Storm

by Eric A. Shelman

  “Gentlemen,” said Perry. “There are exactly twenty-six of us … now, anyway. And to answer your question, I’ve only found it necessary to kill this man, and one other. The other was a woman, and while appearing to be human, she had reddish eyes and would suddenly start saying and doing things that put our group in danger.”

  I looked at the cowering kids and said, “Todd, get them out of here, would you?”

  Todd nodded and moved the two boys further down a first floor hallway, disappearing into a room off the corridor.

  A few moments later, Todd came back in and stood in silence, listening.

  “This red-eyed girl you’re talkin’ about,” he said. “What kinda stuff would she do?”

  “She would open doors and windows, mostly,” said Perry. “But she would do it in the middle of the night, so if we didn’t have sentries, we might not be alive now.”

  “You could’ve just locked Marlene up,” said Todd, his eyes still on his brother-in-law’s body.

  “That would have been more cruel, I’m afraid, Todd. She was perfectly aware and normal most of the time. But all of that was offset by how reckless the things she did were. I didn’t see that I had a choice.”

  “How has he treated you since you got here?” I asked Todd.

  Todd looked at Perry, who nodded at him. “Go ahead,” said the doctor. “Speak freely. I’m unarmed.”

  “I know this sounds crazy compared to what you just saw, but he’s been good,” said Todd. “So much so that I never saw that coming just now. He’s a good organizer, and a good doctor. He laid out a set of rules and conditions when we moved in here, just like he did with everyone else. I don’t think he really stressed the consequences clearly enough, though.” He shook his head and looked again at Cole’s body. “That might just be the understatement of the year.”

  “Cole had his good moments, but everyone here knows he was a loose cannon,” said Perry. “Being your brother-in-law, I expect you’ve known him a decent amount of time, Todd. Perhaps you know a different side, but he’s been nothing but confrontational since I’ve known him.”

  “Nope,” said Todd. “There was pretty much only one side to Cole. He’s pretty big on the ‘my way or the highway’ philosophy.”

  “And he knew I was, too,” said Perry.

  “Where’s the rest of your people?” asked Punch. “I’d like to check on ‘em.”

  “They’re fine,” said Perry. “Upstairs.”

  “Might be a good idea to get Cole’s body outside before anyone sees it,” I said. “You made this mess, Dr. Perry. I’ll help you get him moved.”

  “I’d like my gun back now if we’re going outside,” he said.

  “All due respect,” I said, “I think you’ll understand if I hold onto it for a few. You got strong fences and we need to talk.”

  Perry shook his head, staring at me. “Friend, if you think this was Cole’s first strike, you’re wrong,” said Perry. “He’s put us at risk at least four times I can think of in the time he’s been here.”

  I sized Perry up to be a man who did what he felt was necessary, whether it was easy or difficult. It was a trait I respected, but on the other side of that coin, I feared his willingness to act without fear of consequences, and no matter who looked on, meant he was more instinctual and reactionary than thoughtful; perhaps more cruel than kind.

  “Let’s just get this done,” I said. “We can chat outside.”

  “You good?” asked Punch.

  I nodded. “Yeah. And maybe before you go upstairs you can have Todd here help you find something to clean up this blood.” I glanced at Perry. “The good doctor here may not be all that concerned about the psychological effect it could have on the others, but I am.”

  Punch nodded, and Todd led him out of the room.

  “You’re misjudging me,” said Perry, looking frustrated.

  “Maybe,” I said. “If that’s the case, I’m sorry. Like I said, we’ll chat while we work.”

  I tucked Perry’s Elvis revolver in the back of my pants.

  I lifted Cole’s feet and made the doctor lift him from the shoulders. The man was stronger than I thought, and he lifted his half of our burden easily. I made him walk backwards.

  I followed him out the door through which we’d come in, hefting the dead weight of the man that I hadn’t liked very much – in fact, the man who would’ve been dead an hour before had he not been wearing a ballistic vest.

  When we got outside, Perry led us behind a wall that ran the length of the front of the building. It was solid block, and served as an excellent wind and sound barrier. We lowered the body to the ground about twenty feet from the entrance.

  I said, “I want to speak with the others here before we get down to business.”

  “I’ll remind you this isn’t your home,” he said, his breathing labored.

  “Acknowledged,” I said. “But I’ve found that cruelty isn’t just limited to the occasional killing. I want to see how you interact with your guests.”

  “I think of us as a group of survivors, working together,” said Perry.

  I believed he did feel that way, but the enforcement of his rules and conditions seemed to be a little harsh and perhaps a bit erratic.

  “Maybe so, but when they fuck up, you have another option,” I said. “You can kick ‘em the hell out rather than kill ‘em.”

  “Been there, done that,” said Perry. “I booted one guy early on, and he hooked up with some other tough guys. They tried some Molotov cocktails on the building and I’m just lucky I was able to take them out before they were successful. It’s not worth risking the revenge factor.”

  “We’ll talk to your people just the same,” I said.

  “So you want to talk to everyone else to see if I’m mistreating them or holding them hostage?”

  “Wouldn’t you?” I asked. “Or are you not that curious?”

  Perry shrugged. “I’m confident enough in what they’ll tell you, but you need to know something. I was here all by myself for six months. I didn’t have to ask anyone permission for anything. If I needed to shoot something – or someone – I did it. And believe me, there were some pretty bad sorts that came here in the beginning. They weren’t interested in cohabitating – they wanted me dead or gone and that was that. I did what I had to do to prevail. I take no chances anymore.”

  “You sound rational.”

  “I think so,” said Perry. “I don’t like killing. We need numbers, but not at any cost. I don’t expect my shelter to consist only of beautiful, cooperative people with magnetic personalities, but at least for now, I don’t want people here who are going to get us killed.”

  I stared at him for a few moments and said, “How about this. We’re gonna tell everyone what you did, and that means that very clearly, we’re going to let them know that you shot and killed Cole in front of his nephews and brother-in-law. We’ll ask them who wants to leave, and anyone that wants to will be able to do so immediately.”

  “Fair enough,” said Perry. “Nobody’s a prisoner here.”

  *****

  Chapter Eleven

  No fewer than thirty candles lit the basement, which had become more and more damp as leaks formed through the now exposed floor in the main house above. The walls stood, but the ceiling had either blown away or collapsed, and rain poured down.

  Several battery-powered camping lanterns also lit the space. We’d filled a cooler with all the ice in the refrigerator, another large bag we had in a chest freezer in the garage, and since much of the dry foods were stored down in the basement anyway, there were plenty of supplies.

  There was no bathroom, however. I tried not to think of it. Hemp had put up black, plastic sheeting, suspended from clothesline, in the farthest corner of the room, along with a plastic, 5-gallon bucket. They had found an old toilet seat and lid, but it was just placed precariously on top of the bucket, and I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t topple off it if I attempted to sit down.

  S
o far only Trina and Nelson had used it. The area could not have been farther away from where we gathered, but no matter its location, I imagined I could smell human feces, which just made me want to gag.

  “We’ve no choice than to stay here until the storm passes, I’m afraid,” said Hemp. “Particularly since there is now no roof on the house.”

  “What if the rest collapses and we’re stuck in here?” I asked. “Another tree could fall, the wall with that door in it could blow down. Hemp, it happened once. We can’t take that chance.”

  Hemp chewed his lower lip and became lost in thought. “Hold on,” he said.

  He went up the steps and pushed open the door. I could see that it wasn’t easy, as something else had clearly fallen in front of it, proving my earlier point.

  Hemp threw his shoulder into it and got it open another foot. The noise of the raging wind, rain and flying debris, which was already loud as hell, grew exponentially louder with the door open. I was certain that had the door not been partially blocked, it would have flown from his hand and slammed against the wall, possibly ripping from its hinges.

  Hemp surveyed the scene above for only a brief moment before slamming the door shut again.

  He came back down the stairs, his face and hair wet from the brief look. “I would have to put this at a Category 5 hurricane,” he said. “Wind such as I’ve never experienced, and debris is collecting everywhere. Also, it’s … infested up there,” he said.

  “With … them?” asked Charlie.

  Hemp looked truly disturbed. “Yes,” he said. “I spotted eleven of them in that brief look, and I wasn’t even able to see behind the door. Oddly enough, they’re lying flat, as though aware they could be caught by the wind. Males and females alike.”

  “Mothers and hungerers,” said Isis, standing in the playpen with little Flexy, who was asleep. “The mothers guide the hungerers.”

  I got my usual, rippling chill at the sound of the one-year-old’s voice speaking with intelligence, and said, “I wonder how many mothers there are compared to the others.”

  “They won’t stop comin’,” said Bug. “Isis draws ‘em and they’re not goin’ anywhere until she does.”

  “So how do we stay down here and keep safe, and prevent ourselves from getting trapped?” asked Lola.

  Hemp went to Isis and pulled up a chair beside the playpen. He sat and looked at her.

  “Hemp,” she said, smiling.

  “Isis,” he said. “I don’t know if this question has any merit, because I’m not sure of all that you’re capable of yet.”

  “Knowledge comes with inquiry,” said Isis.

  “Jesus, kid,” I said. “You’ve gotten to where you’re using bigger words than me. I’m getting an inferiority complex.”

  “Not likely,” said Dave. Maybe in a room full of rocket scientists and superheroes.”

  I looked at him and gave him a snide look.

  Hemp touched Isis on the arm and she touched his arm with her other hand. “Yes, Hemp?”

  “Isis, do you have a sense of foreboding about the future?”

  She looked at him. She was no longer smiling and her teeth weren’t visible, so she could have been any child at that moment. Still, we expected an answer that we all realized we could not get from anyone but her.

  “I do not see ahead,” she said, as she had indicated to me before. “They want here. They want me.”

  “Why?” asked Hemp. “Do you know?”

  Isis nodded. “Maternal pull,” she said. “Each of them has a child,” she said. “Dead inside them.”

  I had a thought, and Hemp articulated it as though we were connected. “Isis,” he said. “Can they understand the thoughts of the fetus within them?”

  “No thoughts,” said Isis. “The children within them are dead but not dead. No thoughts. They are hungerers.”

  “So the adult hungerers have no thoughts either, right?” It was Lola who asked the question.

  “No, but they can be commanded,” she said. “Water and beef jerky, daddy?”

  Bug walked up and lifted her from the playpen. As he propped her on his arm, she scooted her bottom until she was comfortable and looked at him.

  “Baby girl, you have to eat somethin’ besides jerky.”

  “Hungry,” she said, and my heart almost broke as tears squirted from her eyes. Now she looked just like any little girl that wanted food, except as she opened her mouth to cry, her full-sized teeth told a different story.

  “She’s got those teeth for a reason, right?” said Dave. “Maybe she knows best that she’s supposed to be on a pure protein diet. And what she said about the zombies being commanded, we know that from California. They moved the hordes at will.”

  “Until Lola pulled them away,” said Serena. “Hey, Lola, do you think you can do the same thing, but in reverse? Like … tell them to go?”

  Lola shook her head. “Guys, I’ve never tried it, but you’re talking a truck pull with a monster truck pulling on one side – that would be Isis here – and a goddamned Yugo on the other. That would be me.”

  “You might underestimate yourself,” said Rachel. “What you did in California was amazing. And it shows you can make them leave somewhere, even with this kid’s magnetic attraction.”

  Bug had reached into his pocket and pulled out a stick of beef jerky, and Isis was now busily munching on it, tearing at it with her sharp teeth, and chewing with her little mouth wide open.

  It was cute, really.

  “Isis,” asked Hemp, “why do they want you? Do you know what they want with you?”

  “There is a longing,” she said, in between chews. “Each believes that I am their child, even while their unborn hungerers remain within their bodies.”

  “The language is astounding,” said Hemp. “It’s as though she gleans it from all of us. Perhaps subconsciously. She’s learning at an amazing rate.”

  “Keep in mind, she hasn’t been around this many people for any sustained period until now,” said Bug. “I guess everything she picked up in my bunker was learned from me.”

  “And now, surrounded by all of us,” added Hemp, “she’s absorbing not only our spoken vocabulary, but clearly, our unspoken words, too.”

  By now, Dave, Serena, Nelson, Lola, and Rachel were all listening intently. Nelson, joined in, saying “Whoa, dude. Let’s go back to what you said before.”

  Nelson paused, looked at Rachel and said, “I can’t believe I’m talkin’ to a baby!”

  Rachel laughed and Nelson looked back at Isis, his face dead serious. “So all those zombies think you’re their baby?”

  “Yes,” said Isis. “If you are referring to the mothers, then yes. They believe that to be true.”

  “You say tomato and I say to-mah-to,” said Nelson, “but you’ve never seen a George Romero flick, right? Those dead chicks and dudes are zombies, little talking baby.”

  The tension in the room dissolved as everyone laughed at Nelson’s choice of words. He looked around, shrugged, and said, “I tell it how it is, man.”

  Lola, who was the only female among us who had been sprayed with the vapor of the red-eyes and had been immediately treated with the red-eye wafers, said, “Isis, what would they do if they … got you?”

  Isis looked at Lola and Lola looked at her. I wondered for a moment why Isis didn’t answer her, but in another second it became clear.

  Lola gasped, and her expression changed. She stared at the rest of us, clearly horrified.

  “What is it, Lola?” asked Dave. “Did she say something to you?”

  Lola slowly nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I didn’t like it.”

  I walked up to her. “Lola, would you mind whispering it to me? I don’t want to upset Trina or Taylor.”

  “Sure,” she said.

  I leaned toward her. She said, “She says they’ll try to kill her if they get to her.”

  I don’t know why I had any reasons to believe otherwise, but somehow, that shocked me. I had c
lung to the hope that Isis would ultimately have some kind of control over them.

  “Did she say why they would kill her?” I whispered to Lola.

  “Isis believes the minds of the mothers can’t ever be quieted as long as she exists. Her existence speaks to them and calls to them night and day, and to them, she’s a lie; she’s the promise of their dead babies that can never be fulfilled.”

  “Wow,” I said. “She said all that shit that fast?”

  “She’s a pretty good communicator for thirteen or fourteen months old,” said Lola. “But yeah, that’s pretty much what she said.”

  “We can’t do much about that,” I said. “I’m worried about getting caught down here. Hemp, can we see about cutting another way out of here if that door gets blocked?”

  “When you were stuck outside I found a gas-powered chain saw,” said Hemp. “It’s low on petrol, but there are several other small, gas-powered devices I can likely rob the fuel from. Just put it all together.”

  “Better make a shitty plan rather than no plan at all,” I said.

  “That’s what we used to say in the military,” said Rachel. We operated under FUBAR rules.”

  “What’s fubar?” asked Trina.

  “Okay to tell her?” asked Rachel.

  “Sure,” I said. I was familiar with the term.

  “Fucked up beyond all recognition,” said Rachel.

  Trina was not quite up on the idea of acronyms. She looked at Rachel and scrunched up her mouth. “How does fubar mean all that? I don’t get it.”

  Trina didn’t wait for an answer. “Hey, Taylor!” she called. “Wanna play Fuck Off?”

  “Why not?” asked Taylor. “This is boring.”

  It was boring.

  And it was intense as the storm raged and Hemp tried to cut us another way out, just in case it was necessary.

  *****

  Frank “Punch” Magee stood beside Todd and his sons when Perry and I walked back in.

  The room looked like a game room of some kind. There were two pool tables, a ping-pong table, foosball and some pinball machines and other video games that were powered off. From the playing cards fanned out face down on the tables, I assumed some of them had apparently been playing card games, none of which could have been as entertaining to watch as Trina and Taylor in a heated game of Fuck Off, their version of Go Fish.