Dead Hunger: The Flex Sheridan Chronicle

by Eric A. Shelman

  *****

  “Flex, I can’t talk,” she said. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”

  My icy stare focused on nothing. I pressed the walkie transmit button almost hard enough to break the plastic.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked in a desperate whisper, because it seemed she was trying to be quiet, and it was automatic.

  There was a pause. “Hold on,” she said.

  I did.

  Then: “I had to move farther away from them before I felt comfortable talking. Listen, I think I’ve found Cynthia’s daughter, Taylor. And she’s alive. But Flex, I’ve never been so scared in my life. The things are fucking stockpiling bodies.”

  I wanted to check the batteries in the walkie, because I didn’t want to hear what I thought I just did. “Gem. Are you in any danger now?”

  “I’m not, or I don’t think so, anyway. Not right now. But Flex, they’re stacking dead bodies in the house. Like a meat locker.”

  “Is it cold in the house?”

  “I have no idea, but this house has a generator running, so the A/C might be on. Looks like it’s supplied from an underground tank or something, and they seem to know the difference.”

  “How many are there?”

  “I’ve only seen eight or nine moving around, but the bodies are piled two deep as far as I can see into the house, and I can’t figure out how they got so many. I mean, hasn’t this only been going on for a couple of days?”

  I jammed my finger on the transmit button again. “Gem, you’d better be sure you’re safe. Secondly how the hell did you get close enough to see what you just described to me, and find the girl? That doesn’t sound safe at all.”

  “Flex, I’ve got the binocs from your truck, so I scoped it out from a good distance away. If they’ve got a enhanced sense of smell, then it’s either not as good as the binocular power or the wind is with me, or both. Anyway, I need you and Hemp if we’re going to get this girl.”

  “Where is she, Gem?”

  There was a long hesitation. When her voice came back through the speaker, it was cracking and on the edge of tears. “She’s . . . Christ, she’s beneath another body just inside the door, Flex. She’s keeping her eyes squeezed shut, but once in a while, when one of them is behind her, she opens them. Fuck, Flex. I have to get her, but –”

  “But you’ll wait. I’m coming. I’m going to leave Hemp here to work on this gas line. We have to get this going so we can keep the promise we made to Max and get the hell to my house where we can start to put together a plan for our future.”

  “Okay,” she said. “But Flex, hurry. This kid’s going to be scarred for life, and I want – oh, shit.”

  I felt like I was wasting time. I needed to be there with her now. “What, Gem? What?”

  “The son-of-a-bitch is – holy crap – he’s dragging a body out of the next door neighbor’s house, toward this one. Can they have that much awareness?”

  I didn’t know. I looked at Hemp and pressed the button so Gem could hear me. “Hemp, could these things know that preserving the bodies in a cool area would protect their food source? I mean, from what you’ve seen so far?”

  Hemp shook his head. “I’ve not seen that kind of thought structure so far. The group movement, which looked coordinated, could have only been them all catching the whiff of a scent all at once. But self preservation? Food storage? Doesn’t sound likely.”

  I held the button. “Did you hear that?”

  She came back on. “I did, but unless this was some sort of Reverend Jim Jones, Guyana, Kool-Aid mass-suicide thing, then these people were captured and stacked by these freaks. And I’m only seeing a part of it. Now Hurry, Flex, or I’m going rogue.”

  “Got it. Get back to the truck. We’ll do what we can for the girl when I get there and you’re less likely to die in the process. Promise me?”

  “Okay, but hurry. Head out the same gate we came through and turn right on the first access road. You take that same road two miles, then cut your engine, roll in and just park on the corner when you get to Oregon Street. I’ll be watching for you.”

  “Got it babe,” I said. “Ten minutes. I’ll radio if it’s going to be longer.”

  I clicked off. “Hemp, let’s check out some of the beefier hard tops. I think I need protection that a ragtop Jeep’s not going to provide.”