Hemp shook his head. “I’d rather keep it up here for now,” he said, tapping his temple with one finger. “I’ll search more thoroughly on our way back, now that I see how far away this is.”
“Your call, bud,” said Flex. “Got your H&K all warmed up?”
“My MP-5 has come alive,” said Hemp. “Just hope there’s no need to use it.”
“Shit, I think Gem’s excited. I know for damned sure Charlie is.”
“Max isn’t a baby anymore,” said Hemp. “And I know Charlie was hoping he’d never have to deal with this again, because she knows with his physiology and connection to these creatures, there’s no way he can stay out of it to ensure his safety. How’s your K7? Still in working order?”
“Tried it on full auto and 3-round burst. Fuck single shot. We’ve got a shit-ton of ammo these days.”
“All well and good.”
Manuel walked up just as Gem finished checking her Uzi for readiness. Charlie looked natural and happy with her Parker Tornado crossbow slung over her shoulder.
“Okay, homies. You ready to go into the belly of the beast?”
“I was, until you called it that,” said Trina.
Manuel laughed. “Let’s move.” He checked his watch. “Takes about thirty minutes, easy walk to get to where they are.”
“Where they are, or where they sometimes go?” asked Taylor.
“Where they … let’s just say frequent.”
Manuel led, with Flex and Gem behind him, followed by Max and Isis, Hemp and Charlie, Dave, Taylor, Trina, and Nelson.
“I don’t really like being in the back,” mumbled Nelson.
Trina turned around. “What’s that, Nel?”
“Just … never mind. I got your six.”
Manuel reached the gate and hopped it. As Flex reached it, he realized the chain and lock were still intact.
“Why didn’t you use bolt cutters on this lock?” he asked.
Manuel turned around. He had a Mossberg shotgun and a canvas bag slung over his other shoulder that Flex assumed had more shells, water, and get-along supplies.
“Even in the daytime I feel like I’m being watched in here. I don’t know where that starts. You’ll feel it, too. So, I don’t like to make it obvious I’ve been here.”
“But if they’re already watching you ….”
“Yeah, yeah. But there’s looking at somebody’s shit and then there’s breaking somebody’s shit. Delicate balance, ese.”
“True enough, Manuel. Point out anything I should see but don’t. Canopy of trees really thickens fast. Like dusk already.”
“Maybe that’s why they like it here.”
In his mind, Flex wondered why they didn’t just move into structures closer to Athens.
But who was Flex Sheridan to question the wisdom of zombies?
That sounded more like Gem.
*****
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sandwiched between Isis ahead and Charlie behind, Hemp said, “Isis, are you of the opinion these females could have the brain capacity to understand if somebody cut the lock?”
Manuel couldn’t hear him from as far ahead as he was, and Hemp didn’t want to question his logic within earshot.
Turning her head slightly to answer, she said, “You know observation is just seeing something has changed from the way it was before. I thought about that when he said it.”
“Right,” said Hemp. “Like those drawings where they change six items, but they’re small things. Almost imperceptible.”
“Right,” said Isis. “Cutting the lock is a small thing, especially if it’s repositioned to appear normal. Leave the gate wide open, though – that they would probably notice with the most rudimentary brainpower.”
“Do you feel different?” he asked. “You and Max?”
“My hearing’s better,” said Max. “Dad, stop worrying. We’ll deal with this like we’ve dealt with everything else. We make a plan and execute it.”
“You know what believers say,” said Hemp. “We make plans, God laughs.”
“He’s not a believer,” said Charlie. “He’s a scientist. Pagan bastards.”
They walked in silence for a while. Manuel stopped at a spot where the wider trail hooked off to the right, but the vague impression of a narrower trail snaked off to the left.
“This way,” said Manuel. “The pit is about a quarter mile up.”
Everyone instinctively unslung their weapons, and Flex noticed everyone else began to scan in all directions as they moved forward. It made him proud how everyone’s instincts kicked in again after several months getting used to normal life.
But, he remembered, it was a return to normal life for Trina and Taylor, whose memories before the apocalypse were likely very vague. Max and Isis only knew the world that once existed from the many textbooks they had read, capturing historic moments from an uncontaminated earth.
The trail was very narrow, but it was clear it had been used. The sunlight filtered through the trees, so the beams wavered, speckling the ground with thousands of tiny leaf shadows that played upon the ground around them.
Manuel slowed as he led the group into what felt like thicker forest, but Flex decided that made sense. If not actual thinking ability, the Red-Eyes had instinct; that much he would never forget. They knew what powers they possessed, and when and how to use them to achieve their preternatural goals.
“This is awfully thick,” said Gem. “You sure this is a trail?”
“It’s their trail,” said Manuel. “You can see it gets harder to pass the farther in you go. I’ve thought about it, and I’m pretty sure they leave it, so you have to duck under branches and climb over bushes on purpose.”
“Keeps away the riff-raff?” asked Flex.
Manuel did not respond to Flex’s comment. “Here, on the left. You guys, keep to the right.” His voice was almost a whisper, and while he nodded toward the pit, he kept his eyes forward, on alert.
Flex and Gem slung their weapons again and peered into the hole, which was crudely dug into the earth, and bordered by high stacks of leaves, as though pushed there intentionally.
“Is it always like this?” asked Hemp.
“What do you mean?” responded Manuel, answering his question with a question.
“The leaves.”
“Yes. Even when we see more bones in there. I think it’s to hide it.”
“From a distance, yes. It would achieve that,” said Hemp. “So, we’ve learned a bit more. They camouflage their little landfill.”
“Little, maybe,” said Manuel. “But it’s not the only one. Do you think they bring their food here to feed?”
“I would need to climb down inside to take a sample of the soil from the center of the pit,” said Hemp. “I know how these creatures eat. They do not tend to leave behind any protein. They consume it all.”
“You’re not going down in there, buster brown,” said Charlie. “Not without me.”
Hemp shook his head and put his MP-5 down. Looking around, he said, “Who’s helping Charlie and I into the pit?”
Flex put his gun down and swept his hand toward the edge. “Your pit of bones awaits,” he said. The pit was only around four feet deep, from what he could tell.
Hemp held out his hand and Flex took it as he slid down the side and landed with his feet atop countless bones.
“Thank you, sir,” said Hemp.
Flex smiled. “You’re gettin’ old, buddy. There was a time you would’ve just jumped in from a standing start.”
“Me next,” said Charlie.
“Seriously, Charlie,” said Gem. “Why on earth do you want to go down there?”
“Yeah, mom,” said Max. “Dad’s got this.”
“I have my reasons,” said Charlie. “Be useful, boy, and hand me a pair of the thick nitrile gloves.”
Max dug through his pack and pulled a pair of blue gloves out. “Here. You’ll poke right through them, so be careful.”
“Ain’t my first rodeo,” said Cha
rlie, pulling them on. She dropped down to her butt and slid into the hole unassisted.
Flex smirked at Hemp.
“What?”
“Just sayin’.”
“You’re not saying anything.”
“Don’t have to. You know all my looks.”
Hemp waved him off and began poking around. He moved to the distant edge and began at what might be considered the corner.
Charlie knelt down and began pulling pieces out and moving them aside. In seconds, she found something. She held it up. “I needed motivation. This is it.”
She held up a gold chain, intact. It had a little heart-shaped locket attached to it. Rather than open it, she stuffed it into her pocket.
“What do you mean, mom?” asked Taylor.
“I’ll tell you in a minute.”
“Both male and female, but far more male,” said Hemp.
“Are you thinking they’re selective when they kill?’ asked Dave Gammon. “Choosing males over females?”
“In their current state of existence, we are not familiar with them,” said Hemp. “We faced them when the gas was at maximum output, and the concentration with the oxygen was high.”
Isis said, “They were strong, and were instinctively aware they could do whatever they were driven to do. They utilized their strengths. Now they adapt to their current capabilities.”
“Are you saying they know they’ve lost a step?” asked Nelson. “They have to be more cunning to survive?”
“Good word, Nel,” said Isis. “Yes, and that could make them more dangerous. They no longer come in hordes, controlling large groups of males. Now they hunt the same prey, probably much like any predatory animal.”
Charlie reached down and lifted a skull, placing it aside. When she dug down into the broken bones, she lifted up another necklace, but in her hand was also a gold band.
“You treasure hunting in there?” asked Nelson.
“Like I said, I’m motivating,” she said. “Each of these items means somebody is dead.”
“The bones could tell you that,” said Manuel.
Charlie nodded. “Yes. They tell me that. But these things tell me somebody cared about them, and they cherished things. To me, it changes this pile of bones into real people.”
“These bones were chewed clean,” said Hemp. “When they numbered in the millions, they ate until something fresher came along. Nowadays, they do not have as many options. They waste nothing.”
“How’s the dirt?” asked Dave.
“It is mottled. I would say it is caked with blood. Which tells me they feed within the pit.” He looked at Max. “Max, sweetheart, give me a medium-sized sample bottle.”
“Don’t call me that, dad,” said Max. “It’s embarrassing.”
Hemp shrugged and took the bottle Max held out. “Thank you, button nose.”
“Dad!”
“I used to call you that, and you loved it.”
The blush was visible, even in the speckled shade of the trees.
“And voila!” said Charlie, plucking a bone from the dirt. It was approximately three inches long. She slid a gold ring from it. “It’s a man’s ring. Help me out, Flex.”
Flex knelt down and held his hand out to Charlie, and she climbed out.
“Don’t move just yet,” said Hemp, moving over to the edge. Flex helped him out, too.
Both dusted themselves off.
“You said there are other pits,” said Hemp. “Where?”
“Deeper in,” said Manuel. “And when you get a mile or two down, there are multiple trails.”
“Are the pits all active?”
Manuel shrugged. “Haven’t looked. To be honest, I haven’t come back in here for a month or so. Lost my nerve when I got surrounded.”
Isis took two steps around Max and Trina and whispered, “They’re here.”
Everyone jerked their heads toward Isis, and every weapon slid quickly into position.
“Easy,” she said. “I didn’t say they were coming. They’re here.” She pointed at a nearby area where the leaves were mounded higher. Motioning with two fingers at her eyes, she turned her head and nodded.
Everyone looked. Dirty fingers were visible under the edge of the pile. They were not bones.
Hemp put his finger to his lips. Moving around Flex and Gem, careful not to step from the narrow trail, he eased around Isis and bent down, examining the exposed digits.
Standing again, he said in a normal voice, “Okay, good enough. Let’s take our leave of this place.”
Isis leaned close. “I’m staying.”
“No, you’re not,” whispered Gem. “That’s dumb.”
“Don’t you see?” asked Isis. “We’re not looking for their lair – we’re in it. And who knows how long we’ve been in it?”
“Exactly,” said Gem. “You’re making my point. Let’s talk about this at the trailhead.”
With a huff, Isis turned and started walking back up the trail, in the direction from which they’d come.
Everyone followed in silence. When they reached the edge of the forest, they continued on for another eighth of a mile before Isis stopped and turned. “I need to see them in their natural environment to understand how they function. I need to observe them without them knowing it.”
“And just exactly how the hell do you think you’ll do that by staying there?” asked Gem. “The second they wake up, there you are. Food.”
Isis shook her head. “You know both Max and I learned to block their siren call to us, and we learned how to stop the siren call we naturally emitted to them.”
“She’s right,” said Max. “I’ll stay with her. We’ll have weapons, but we won’t need them. They won’t even know we’re there because we’ll shield.”
Max and Isis, as children, could not control their natural call. It was dangerous until they got old enough to learn how to control it, because they never slept and were a 24/7 beacon to the hordes of Red-Eyes, who came by the hundreds, believing they were their children.
Little did they know at the time their children were dead inside them. Now they knew. According to Manuel, they had all torn their babies out of their wombs.
“I was never food before,” said Isis.
“Things are different now,” said Hemp. “We don’t know what drives them anymore. Whatever it was about you that called them or repelled them – all that may have changed.”
“Dad, I’m doing it,” said Isis. “I’m not asking permission here, because I’m a grown-ass woman and –”
“Stop,” said Hemp, holding up his hand. “I had to try to talk you out of it. I see that’s not happening, so just tell us your plan.”
Isis smiled. When she was a baby her teeth were adult sized – presumably so she could ingest meat because that’s all she ate – but now they fit in her mouth perfectly. She, like Max, still did not sleep. That had not changed.
She said, “I’m climbing that big tree next to the pit. It’s got some good overhanging branches thick enough to support me a hundred times over. I think it’s a black walnut tree if my encyclopedia knowledge is still intact.”
“Isis,” said Max.
She nodded, smiling. “We’ve been talking, Max and me. He won’t let me do it alone.”
“Damned straight,” said Max, a smirk on his face. “She’s my woman.”
“Don’t push it,” said Isis, winking at him.
“I wouldn’t let you do it alone either,” said Nelson. “I’m tempted to join you. I’ve got a leather pouch full of stars in case they start to climb up after you.”
“Too many people,” said Dave. “Even with diminished senses, and who knows if they are, they might be able to sniff you out.”
“Agree,” said Trina. “Plus, if Tay and I can’t go, then nobody else can.”
Isis held up her hands. “I’ll have my weapon and Max can stay with me. We need to know things. What time they crawl out of those cocoons they’ve made. Why they make them in the first pl
ace. Which direction they go. How they pick where they hunt.”
Gem took Hemp and Flex by the hands. “They’re smart. They’re capable. They’ll have radios, and we’ll go back to the click alert method.”
“Two clicks mean the zombies are here, three clicks mean they’re either dead or gone and all is well, and a single click means we need your help, like yesterday. Satisfied?” asked Max.
“Kind of the long way around, and you’re a bit of a smartass, but yeah,” said Flex. “Okay. How long you two staying?”
“All night,” said Isis. “Got any jerky?”
“In my pack,” said Gem. “Decent temps at night now. Mind if we stand by while you take your spots in the tree?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Aunt Gem,” said Max.
*****
CHAPTER NINE
Isis led, while Max followed closely behind her, matching her steps. On the way out they had remained on the narrow trail, and as it turned out, that was a good thing; once they became aware of them, they saw the subterranean pods everywhere, to both sides of the trail.
To be fair, the pit area was fairly deep in the forest, so the creatures had no real reason to worry about random hikers. There were far easier places to access, and it was a decent-sized forest. Hunters, whether amateur or pro, would likely focus on areas where there were animal trails and sources of water.
These things did not drink water. They drank blood. They ate flesh. They’d killed their share since the apocalypse had supposedly ended.
As they reached the large walnut tree, Max and Isis turned to wave the others off. They had followed, staying a hundred yards back in case the burrowing creatures had been alerted and were waiting for them.
Nothing had changed. The fingers of the visible hands were as still as death.
They watched until they could no longer see their family retreating. Just before Gem disappeared, she held up her radio with one hand and pointed to it with the other. She then made a 1-2-3 with her fingers, reminding them.
I love Gem, thought Isis.
You better, or she’ll kill you, thought Max.
Max uncoiled the rope clipped to his holster and eyed the lowest, largest branch. It was about eight feet up. With an easy toss, the rope flipped over the branch and dangled down. Max created a simple slipknot and cinched it tight.
Dead Hunger | Book 10 | The Remnants Page 7