Dead Hunger IV: Evolution (3 page)

Gem and I had split up some time before, after dating around two years.  I don’t want to get into the reasons why, but we did, and I think from the moment it happened, we had both known it was a mistake.  I missed her so much, but pride kept me away.  She’d really been the one to end it and I’ve never been one to go begging.

But I should have.  I know that now.

In the end she came back to me.  When her world shattered, along with the rest of humanity’s, she could only think of me. 

Fate brought us back together. 
Or k
ismet. 
Or
God.  Give anything or anyone the credit – I don’t care.  I have her back.

Gem
loves the shit outta me, and she would lay down her life to save mine or Trina’s, and of that I have no doubt whatsoever. 
Hemp or Charlie, too.  I’m not even sure she wouldn’t do the same to save Bunsen or Slider.

And when our baby is born, mark him or her down for do
uble the sacrifice if needed.

Gem’s weapon of choice is an Uzi 9mm.  She is
damned
proficient at it,
too.  For a while she
missed
the hell out of
her
first Uzi – she lost that one, the one she’d named Suzi the Uzi – in a heated fight.  Well, let me announce that she’s gotten over it.  Her replacement is Uzi Q, and she just calls it Queenie.  She said it’s what she thinks of when she hears the letter Q.

It’s her business. 
It seems to make her happy, and I never get between a woman and her gun.

Gem’s gained
only about five
pounds with the baby. 
The morning sickness has passed now, and despite
my
awareness
that it is a major
cliché,
the woman
glows.  Her skin looks like pure cream, as smooth as silk. 
There is nothi
ng that is not sexy about her
, and she turns me on like a switch.

Charlie is another story.  She’s in her late twenties, but looks as though she could be
just of legal drinking age.  She’s got wavy blond hair and
big,
intense,
brown eyes that when challenged, can burn through you.

When we found her, she was hiding in a hospital linen closet.  Hemp was back at my house, and Gem and I were out trying to find an EEG machine for him.  Along the way, we passed a zombie with an arrow through its eye socket.  Then we heard a door close, and eventually found Charlie
, coiled inside
. 

I’ll never forget the first words she said to us
.

“What if I hurt
you
?”

It was classic Charlie. 
She sat there in that closet, her crossbow trained on us.  Yeah,
that’s right
.  Her
damned
crossbow.  But the one she had
back
then was practically child’s play compared to her Parker.  Gem got one, too. 
The Tornado is a h
ell of a weapon.

As for Charlie threatening us when we found her, hey, we couldn’t blame her; all people were doing was hurting people since the zombie bullshit all began, so who to trust?  We’re glad she trusted us, though.

So is Hemp.  He married her.

Speaking of which. 
Through Hemp, our resident genius, we’ve uncovered many ways to stay safe and even ways to walk among the waking, walking dead.

Yep.  WAT-6.

It is a freaky feeling.  I can’t even put that shit into words.  Hell, you could wear a brand new tuxedo
and douse yourself with Ralph Lauren Polo cologne, then
walk right in the middle of these rank-smelling rotters and they wouldn’t give you a second sniff. 

Then you simply withdraw your 9mm from your drop holster worn over those tuxedo pants, and blow the fuckin’ brains out of the zombie to each
side of you
.

See, they can’t hear so well.  Seems their eyes ain’t all that bad, but their ears go to shit once the eardrums rot.  So no matter what George Romero tried to teach you about zombies, he never really dealt with a real one.

We have.  We do.  Pretty much every time we go out on a supply or a zombie run.

Yeah, we collect zombies to a degree.  They are necessary test subjects, and we often need to harvest their eye vapor.

Shit.  Didn’t I mention that again?  I really do need to start from the beginning aga
in
, but I’m not going to do it
.  Instead, why don’t you just go back and read my first chronicle, then Gem’s, then Hemp and Charlie’s.  Then you’ll be caught up as hell.

I’m
just
here to introduce what’s been going on and where we are now
.  This part of the story can’t be recounted by one person because t
oo many things happened in too many places for
anyone
to be
able to adequately cover it all.

So this time around, the voice
telling our story will be, let’s say, all-seeing and all-knowing. 
There
was
lots to see.  More to know.

Discovery.  That’s what this story is about.

And evolution.

Remember when I started telling you this story?  That wasn’t that long ago.  Remember what I said
at the beginning of my chronicle
?

It’s fucked up.

Well,
we’re working on it
, but
it’s still fucked up.

Just not as much.  We’re beginning to get the feeling that someday we’ll have a countryside littered with the bones of the
dead
zombies, and a real life again.

More like the old west, but a life. 

Hey.  I’ll take the old west over this shit any day.

*****

Chapter One

January
24
, 2013

The two families, of Flex, Gem and Trina, and Hemp, Charlie and
Taylor
still shared the corner house, and they enjoyed it, especially the girls.

Dave had taken Cynthia and Todd’s old house right on the opposite corner.  He was sharing it with
Serena
, whom he’d met in
Shelburne
,
Vermont
, and his younger half-sister Lisa.

It was just after seven in the morning, and Flex was still upstairs dressing.  Gem worked on breakfast and lunches for the guys and Charlie.

“Mommy, this milk sucks,” said Trina, scrunching up her mouth.

“
Oh, something new,” said Gem.
 
“
Have we covered repetition in home school yet?”

Trina looked at Gem.  “You were never a real teacher were you, mommy?”

“I can teach
you
a few things,” she said, glaring back at her from the propane stove. 
Gem
used
a small, two-burner stove to prepare breakfast, because while they had a full underground tank of propane, they saved it in case a real emergency came and they foun
d a need to hole up for a while.

Today it was just fresh fried eggs, laid by the chickens they’d caught and penned.  It was like heaven, every time they cooked them.  Smelled like civilization to anyone who caught the scent.
 

But Trina ate cereal with powdered milk, as usual.  No matter how cold and how thick Gem mixed it, it wasn’t the same.  Trina said it sucked every time.

Bunsen trotted in with Slider right behind her.  They both stopped by Trina.  Bunsen gave her a quick lick, glanced at the cereal in her bowl, then decided better of it.  She went by the back door and spread out on the floor.

Slider lowered his head to her bowl and took a big slurp
, then chuffed and shook his head
.

“I heard that,” said Gem, without turning her head, but with a smile on her face. “Slider, no!”

Trina laughed.  “See?  Even Slider thinks that powdered milk crap sucks!”

“It’s that or eat it dry.”

“I’m full, mommy.”

“Okay, leave it.  I’ll clear it away.  Go get
Tay
up
, would you?  And buzz Uncle Dave.  He’s going to help the guys with the lab
supplies
.”

Dave Gammon was one of the people they’d picked up at a church in
Alabama
that had been overtaken by zombies.  Zombies that seemed to have a plan.  Disconcerting, to say the least.  Flex had found him inside an inner office of the church with some others.

There weren’t many people that Gem would say fit right in with them, but Gammon was one of them.  He and his sister had gone through some hard shit, but they’d come out stronger and closer for it.  Gem had taken Lisa under her wing to a point, trying to prepare her for their trip to
California
.  She’d need all the defensive skills
she
could attain, and
that
Gem knew.

Trina pushed the button.  “Uncle Dave, come in.  Uncle Dave?”

A tired-sounding voice came on.  “Yeah, hey, is this Trina?”

“The only one,” said Trina.  Then, her hand over the radio, she whispered to Gem, “I am pretty much the only Trina around, huh?”

Gem smiled.  “The one and only.”

“Okay, I’m up,” said Dave, a yawn in his voice.

Gem turned.  “Radio, quick.”

Trina gave it to her.

“Hey, Dave?” asked Gem.

“Yeah.  Morning, Gem.”

“Hi.  You were going with the guys today, right?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, we’re getting breakfast going now, so if you want any eggs, better hurry.  I think they’re leaving in a half hour.”

“How you doing, Gem?”

“Awesome,” she said.  “I’d be better if I could go hunting.”

“Zombies or supplies?” asked Dave.

“
Yes,” said Gem
. 
“
Being pregnant can make
a girl
want to kill people under ordinary circumstances.  The cool part is we can actually do it.  Guilt-free.”

“They
are
already dead, Gem.”

“Exactly,” said Gem.  “Okay,
later on,
we’re taking
the girls to the range for more firearms training, so if you guys get back and need us, that’s where we’ll be. 
Tay
and Trini seem to like that after a day of home schooling.  Tell Lisa.  She told us she wants to be prepared, and it is pure preparation.  Plus I want to shoot Queeni
e and the new Tornado Charlie got me.”

“I know,” said Dave.  “That thing kicks ass.”

“Hurry,” said Gem.

She hung up and smiled. 

Trina smiled at her.  “What, mommy?  Did Uncle Dave say something funny?”

“Yeah
.  As usual.”

Trina frowned.  “
Was it an awkward moment joke? 
I don’t understand half of ‘em,” she said.

“Make that two
of us
,” said Gem, smiling again. 

Gem was going to miss Dave when he left.  Not to mention Lisa
.  And while Gem had no idea whether
Serena Castaneda
had committed to go with them yet, it was pretty clear she was attached to Dave.  She
was awesome
, and reminded Gem of herself with regard to her determination and fighting spirit. 
Concord
wo
uld seem emptier without them.

There was s
ome uncle
of Dave’s and Lisa’s
in
California
they were going to try to track down if he was still alive.  Dave said he’d be a legend by now, so he shouldn’t be that hard to find if he did live through
the zombie apocalypse
.
 

Gem’s mind went back to the day ahead.  She’d already decided – but hadn’t told Trina yet – that they would skip home school today and get straight to shooting.

She and Charlie had
been
holding
a bunch of regular trainings at the range, and surprisingly, there were more women and kids in them than men.  The crew of kids that came, led by
Jimmy Dickson, were not allowed the use of crossbows or anything larger than a .22 caliber rifle.  They had to prove proficiency in shooting, and their final test before being issued the firearm was that they could hit the bulls eye eight
out
of ten shots.  All but one of them,
Paul
Whitman, whose parents had died in the most horrific way, had already achieved it, but continued coming to the range to grow their skills further.