Dead Hunger: The Flex Sheridan Chronicle
Page 7
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Back at the Suburban, I tapped on the window. Trina sat beside Gem, another of her favorite big people in the world, and was talking animatedly. I noticed a machine gun of some type on the dashboard, and noted to myself that this was not my weapon. Gem rolled down the window.
“Is that an Uzi?” I asked, shaking my head. “I’m ready. Bring that other comforter with you.”
She nodded. No words were necessary. Gem pulled the twin comforter from the floorboard, and turned to Trina. “On the floor, door locked, not a peep, right?”
“Like I’m playing hide and seek,” Trina said, smiling.
“Just like that,” Gem responded. “Shhh.”
“Shhh,” repeated Trina, crawling onto the floor. Gem dropped the other comforter on top of her and rolled the driver’s side window back up. She got out of the truck, clicked the lock and closed the door.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Back at the gravesite Gem knelt down over Jesse’s body. I had rested her on her back and had done my best to straighten her clothes and hair. Despite her condition, her hair and clothes soaking wet, she still looked beautiful.
“I never should have had to see you like this, Jesse,” Gem said. She stroked the child’s face and hair, then lowered her face to Jesse’s and kissed her cheek, then her forehead. “Rest in peace, little rabbit, you.”
It was what she’d always called Jesse. Jesse loved it, because she loved rabbits. In fact, against her mother’s better judgment, Gem had convinced Jamie to let her read Watership Down to Jesse, who from the beginning, adored the tale of Fiver, Hazel and their warren of rabbits.
When Gem was done with her goodbyes, I knelt down beside Jesse and touched her face. I dropped down and put her cheek against mine. “I love you, little one. And I want you to know that wasn’t your mama you were running from. She loves you. Your mama would never do anything to hurt you.”
I stared down at her for a long time, kissed her cheek and stood. “Let’s wrap her.”
Gem spread out the comforter and I picked Jesse up and placed her on it. Gem carefully folded the blanket over and around her, tucking it in tightly on all sides. Together, we lifted her and placed her inside the grave.
In silence, we covered her body with soil until only a mound of earth was visible before us.
“Jamie’s in the equipment hauler hooked up to the Suburban.”
“How?” asked Gem.
“Wrapped in a big bubble wrap sheet. A piece of the pool cover. Like a mummy.”
Gem stared at me. I knew the question in her eyes before she vocalized it.
“Because, Gem, I can’t leave her. I have to see if she can be cured . . . something. I can’t just shoot her, and I won’t leave her to do what she did to – well, I just can’t.”
“I get that, babe. If you’re sure she’s secure, that’s good enough for me.”
She had the sub machine gun slung over her shoulder and with her crazy long locks, she reminded me of a female Rambo.
“I miss hearing you call me babe, Gem,” I said. “I’ve missed it for a long time.”
“Well, you won’t miss it anymore, babe. Because I’ve felt exactly the same since the last time I saw you. Now let’s get out of here. I smell fire.”
CHAPTER THREE