We went back to the truck, checked on the dog, who was lost in what was apparently a pretty good dream when we arrived, and loaded up on ammo again. We’d not intended on using so much in one fell swoop, which just served to remind us that you never knew what you were going to encounter, so better to be over prepared, even if it meant carrying a little extra weight.
We closed the door and started back toward Building #2’s entry door.
“You going to name the dog?” Hemp asked.
“I think we’ll let Trina do that,” I said. “She needs something to occupy that little mind of hers besides her family. She’s never going to see them again – at least from what it looks like now.”
Hemp put a hand on my shoulder as we approached the entrance door. We wouldn’t need to be buzzed in this time. Hemp swiped the card. “Flex, I know we’re all clinging to a bit of hope here, but you do realize your sister’s condition is unlikely to ever be reversed, don’t you?”
I pulled the door open about an inch and looked at him. “I know that. In my heart I know that holding on to this particle of hope is foolish, but meeting you and learning your background has given me that much more hope,” I said, holding my thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “Just that much, but it’s enough. I can’t even tell you what she means to me.”
“Let’s go find Max,” Hemp said, nodding at the door. “He may be able to give us more, which might further our ability to make a game plan.”
I pulled it open and we went inside, and back into the stairwell.
When we got back to the second floor landing, Gem was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, and Trina curled up against her. The Glock was in her hand, resting against her knee.
“Finally,” she said, getting to her feet. “What happened out there?”
“Couple of guards just started shooting at us. Had some pretty high-powered guns themselves, but we got the jump on them, because one was driving and only one was shooting.”
Hemp swiped the card to the second level and the door latch clicked. He pulled it open and poked his head into the hallway. “Clear,” he said.
We moved out into the hallway as a unit, same formation as before with Hemp in the lead, Gem pulling Trina along by her hand, and me bringing up the rear. The level was clear. The lab in which Max was locked was just 50 yards down the hall, and we made it there without incident. Hemp rapped on the door.
A round face peered through the wire-reinforced glass, then smiled. A moment later the lock clicked, and the door swung in.
“Dr. Chatsworth!” shouted Max, as though he had found a long-lost friend. He took Hemp’s hand and clasped it with both of his. “I can’t tell you what a relief it is to see you!”
Max Romero was a short man, around five-and-a-half feet tall, bald with hair on both sides of his head. He wore wire framed round glasses, and his skin was a medium brown tone as a result of his Mexican heritage.
“Max, please meet Gem, Flex and little Trina here. We’ve got a dog in the car, but no name for her yet.”
Max took everyone’s hand and shook them as introductions were made, except for Trina, whom he patted on top of the head, letting his hand pause on her cheek. “It’s so good to meet all of you. It’s been harrowing here all by myself. I’ve kept my eye on that camera, but you’re the only ones to show up so far.”
“We met a couple of your guards downstairs just now,” I said. “Unfortunately, they tried to kill me and Hemp, and we had to turn it around on them.”
Max looked confused for a moment. “Hemp? Oh, Hemp! Sorry, Dr. Chatsworth. I knew you went by that, but our relationship has always been on more of a professional level.”
“Please,” Hemp said. “Just call me Hemp at this point. Max, what have you learned about this thing? Anything?”
Max shook his head slowly. “Not much, I’m afraid. The headaches that precede the main symptoms, which can drive you crazy on their own, are powerful. A couple of colleagues I was speaking with had the headaches, and trying to ask them questions about it was like trying to get a 2-month old puppy to focus on learning a trick. The pain was intense and completely distracting. At that time, I had no idea what it would become.”
“Did they say anything about dreams?”
Max’s eyes went round. “Yes, they did, as a matter of fact. Horrible dreams the night before. Then they woke up with the headache, and . . . well, we know what comes next.”
“Do you have a plan, Max?” Gem asked the question. Her eyes were intense. “What you’re going to do?”
He nodded. “I made a commitment to the CDC, and as an extension of that, to the American people. So, if you can help me secure at least this building, I’d be content staying here and helping direct anyone else who might come this way looking for help.”
“It is the most logical place,” I said. “It’s the first place I considered coming. Even before I ran into Hemp, here.”
“I’ve got what’s basically a Ham radio here, and I’ve set it to automatically scan the frequencies. I’ve heard a few snippets of people talking. As far away as Texas. So there are others out there.”
“Have you spoken to any of them?” I asked.
Max nodded. “Only so far as to tell them that the infection is here in Georgia, too. And that for all intents and purposes, the CDC is out of commission. If they stop by, I can direct them to where I know the uninfecteds are located, but there’s no sense in them coming here if we’re unable to offer any real assistance.”
I nodded, knowing he was right. It would be good for people to know what frequency the CDC was on, so that Max could give out any information he was able, but as for them coming here, it wasn’t helpful. The living, uninfected needed to get together with others. Safety in numbers.
“I’m concerned about your generator, Max. You’re not going to be able to stay here long if that runs out. You said a couple of weeks. Is there enough food here to hold you?
“Absolutely. I could eat here for a couple of months, since the generator also keeps our main freezer going. But that gen is going to have about another 11 days before it shuts down hard, and for good.”
“How do you refuel it?” Gem asked.
“We have some huge above-ground LP tanks here, as well. Not feeding to the generator supply tanks, but we keep the additional LP gas on hand for many other uses. Burners, heaters, torches. Behind this building.”
“How far from the generator tanks?” Hemp asked.
“I have no idea where the gen tanks are buried, but I assume they’re close to the gens themselves. Northeast corner of the building. And the above-ground tanks are on the same side of the building, but about a hundred or so yards away.”
“Okay,” Hemp said. “Max, are you staying here? Or do you want to join us?”
Max didn’t hesitate. “I have to stay, Dr. Chatsworth. I feel an obligation.”
“Okay, then. I thought you’d feel that way,” Hemp nodded. “But here’s what we’re going to try to do.” He turned to me. “Flex, if we can find enough black pipe, I want to run it from the spare tanks to the feed for the underground LP tanks. Depending on the size and how full they are, that ought to keep Max here up and running for up to a month or more if power draw is minimized.”
“Yeah,” I said. “And in a month, we never know what course this thing might take. The infecteds might all be dead, and at that point Max could leave the building safely.”
“It could go the other way, too.” Max looked at Hemp with concern in his eyes.
“Let’s hope not,” Hemp said. “Max, are there any of the mobile labs downstairs? Those converted motor homes?”
Max nodded. “We have six of them down there. One is brand new. A 2011 that we just took delivery on. Nice 40 foot with four slide-outs.”
“I know this might go against your grain, but would you mind if we took one?” Hemp looked directly into Max’s eyes
.
Max laughed. “Dr. Chatsworth, if you’re going to take the time to increase my lifeline here, then of course you can take what you need! Having you out there working on this thing is about all I can ask for. I know you’ll do what you can to find a cure or a way to stop this thing. Don’t ask, just take.”
“I think I’ve got an idea,” Gem said. “Trina, I want you to stay here with Dr. Romero, okay? He’s going to give you a soda.” She looked at Max and nodded, and he nodded back. “We’re going to go out and clear the rest of this building of anything we find.”
Max walked us to a building layout diagram on the wall. He pointed. “We’re here right now. Above ground there’s one level above this floor, this level, and the first floor. Below ground we have the garages where the mobile labs and other vehicles are located. I’d guess you start at the top, work your way down. The key card you have should get you into restricted areas, too.”
“Any areas we should stay out of? Perhaps due to airborne contaminates?”
Max shook his head. “No experimentation with anything extraordinary right now. You’re safe, aside from the obvious.”
“Okay,” I said. Let’s get this done. Then, if we’re smart, we’ll secure all the doors, get a nice long nap, re-pipe the LP gas line, and pick our lab and go.”
“I need a bigger gun before we do this,” Gem said. “And I’d like to bring our furry girl inside, too.” She smiled.
We had our plan. We went outside to get the dog and Gem’s favorite Uzi.
Dead Hunger: The Flex Sheridan Chronicle Page 20