Dead Hunger IV: Evolution (5 page)

The range, oddly enough, was near the old cemetery.  It was safe there now; the ratz and diggers – what they called the once dead humans who came back as zombies – were, for the most part, wiped out by the urushiol soakings they’d given the cemeteries.

“Locked and loaded?” asked Gem.

“Locked!” said Trina.

“Loaded!” said
Taylor
.

It was their little thing.

“I wish!” said Charlie.  It was about the loaded part, and it was Charlie’s little thing.  Gem smiled every time.

Lisa sat in the front seat, and Charlie, whose butt wasn’t much bigger than
Taylor
’s, sat between the kids in the back seat.

“I want to work on everything today,” said Lisa.  “But I have the most trouble with handguns.”

“They’re harder,” said Gem.  “I had trouble with them in the beginning.  You think you can just point and shoot, but a shambling zombie isn’t as easy to hit as you’d think.”

“It’s all that side-to-side motion,” said Charlie.  “Plus, the short barrel.  If you’re off just a fraction of a degree, your round hits air.”

“I used to need my sight,” said Trina.  “Not anymore.  I point and shoot.  Like a camera.”

“A camera!” said
Taylor
.  “Good idea, Trina.  I need to get me a camera so I can take lots of pictures of stuff.”

Gem pulled the car into the dirt area just past the cemetery.  The town line was just a mile to the north, beyond a thick copse of trees.  It was all forested in that area, and there was no chance of a stray round hurting anyone.  She threw the car into park and opened her door.

“We’re going to need more ammo, too.  I hope the boys know that.”

“Try them on the radio,” said Charlie.

Lisa unclipped it off the dashboard.  “Hemp, Flex, you read?”

Static.

They waited a couple of minutes.  Nothing.

“Say it anyway,” said Charlie.  “Sometimes they can hear you but you can’t hear them.  We’re on a hill, so …”

“Get 9mm ammo if you can, guys.
  And more .38, too.
  We have plenty up here, but there’s not much left back home.”

A motorcycle engine sounded in the distance.  They all turned in time to see a figure dressed in full leathers and a black helmet with a full face shield come into view and stop beside the Ford.

Serena took off her helmet.  “Really?  Nobody woke me up?”

“Dave said you were sleeping when I got up,” said Lisa.  “Sure we would’ve asked you to come.”

“I know,” she said.  “I was sleeping.  But I’m here now, and I’ve got Annie.”

She pulled out the
.44 Magnum with a wood st
ock and shining stainless steel barrel.  “And she’s ready.”

“Got ammo for that?” asked Gem.  “We only brought arrows and nine millimeter.”

Serena tossed her brown curls behind her back, unzipped her body suit at the neck and knelt down beside her pack, which she’d dropped on the ground.  She drew the zipper across the canvas pack to reveal ten or so boxes of .45 rounds. 

“How the
hell
did you carry that thing?” asked Gem.

Serena shrugged. 
“Just toned, I guess.”

“I used to be toned,” said Gem.  “Before this.”  She gestured to her stomach.

“Me, too,” said Charlie.

“You girls are both full of shit,” said Serena.  “I wish I looked like either of you.”

“Enough of the mutual admiration society,” said Lisa, whose body was on the thicker side.  “I’ll puke if I have to hear any more.”

“Fine,” said Gem.  “Let’s set up.”

Trina helped Serena and
Taylor
helped Lisa carry and mount the targets on the stands that were permanently installed in the field. 
Three on the right side were for crossbow practice, and the four on the left were for firearms. 

Charlie lined up first, her Parker Tornado snapped and loaded.  She sighted it.  Seventy yards.  210 feet.

“Okay, girls.  First shot.  Seventy yards.”  She pulled the trigger, and the arrow arched up then down, hitting the target.

Gem held up her scope.  “Looks like about two inches high.  That could get a girl killed.  Correction?”

“No problem,” said Charlie.  She mounted an arrow, raised the crossbo
w scope to her eye, and paused.

“Is that a breeze from the west?”

“Yep,” said Serena. 

All the women were in love with the silence of the crossbow and the insane accuracy, including Gem.  She decided she’d work solely with the crossbow for at least an hour.  The girls were bundled up, and just the excitement of being out here when they were supposed to be in school was keeping their adrenaline pumping and their bodies warm.

“Okay, here goes,” said Charlie, almost in a whisper.

She squeezed the trigger, the bow sprung, and the bolt flew at 330 feet per second toward its target.

“I don’t see it,” said Gem.

“That’s because it’s blending in with the fuckin’ bulls eye,” said Charlie.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“My turn,” said Gem.  The Uzi, Queenie, still hung off a clip on her belt.  Just because she was having
fun
didn’t mean she wouldn’t be prepared. 

It took Gem a fifty-yard distant target and three shots to hit the bulls eye, but the previous two were only three to four inches off.  She was happy. 

“I’ll be within an inch every time by the time we leave today,” she said, winking at Trina.

“You don’t have to kill zombies when they’re that far away anyway, mommy.  You told me if they’re that far away I should always run instead of fight.”

Trina was right.  Gem told her so.

“Lisa, you ready?” asked Charlie.

“Hell yes, I’m ready.  I want to use the AK-47.”

“Great weapon,” said Gem.  “Like the one on my Crown Vic.”

Lisa looked back at the car.  “Hmm.  I didn’t even realize that.  Nice.”

Before long, the four firearm targets were taking shots, and everyone was having a grand old time.

*****

Flex drove his truck, Hemp sat in back, and Dave rode shotgun.  Whit
Sanger radioed them to ask if they needed help, but Flex told him he appreciated it, but they had the crew they needed.

Whit was a good guy.  Flex had liked him from the moment he opened his mouth.  They’d met him when they first pulled into
Concord
.  He’d been guarding the roadblock with Jacko, Dan Cox and some others when
Flex’s group had hit the new
Concord
city limit
.  Whit had stood right up to Jacko, who was being foolish and aggressive
, and looking to get his ass kicked, Flex Sheridan style
. 

Whit’s sharp words likely kept the situation
from escalating beyond where it had.
  Flex had been road weary and not in the mood for the bullshit that Jacko had been handing out
, and Flex had come very close to making a bad first impression – very much like Jacko had.  But he was pretty sure most of
the
Concord
citizens
would’ve understood
.

Since that time, Jacko had proved he was valuable and sharp.  Flex and his family actually liked Jacko quite a bit now.

They made it through the roadblock and headed out onto
the I-93 south.

“What’s first?” asked Flex. 

“You seem to know,” said Hemp.

“You said you needed a female zombie.”

“I do.”

“Why?” asked Dave.

“It’s just nice to have a woman follow instructions for once,” said Hemp.

Dave looked at him.  Then he laughed.  “Shit, Hemp!  I can never tell when you’re joking! 
Must
be that damned accent.”

“Gets ‘em every time,” said Hemp, smiling.  “I know where you’re going, Mr. Sheridan.”

“Oh, yeah?  Where.”

“Women’s state prison.”

“Fuckin’ bingo.”

“Why the prison?” asked Dave.

“Because,” said Flex, “They’ve left it alone.  The
inmates
are mostly in cells, and that prison doesn’t have electronic cell blocks.  All key operated.  Least that’s what Kev said.”

“Ah, so we walk in, inspect the cages, pick our chick, and go.  Sweet plan,” said Dave.

“I’m impressed,” said Hemp.  “When did you work this out?”

“Last night,” said Flex.  “Let my fingers do the walking.  Checked out my coffee table book on
Concord
.  Oddly enough, there were aerials of the prison and an address.”

“It’s that awkward moment when you’re looking for fun in
Concord
, and you end up in prison,” said Dave.

“That one could use some work.”

“What’s done cannot be undone,” said Dave.  “I stand behind every bad awkward moment joke I’ve ever told.”

“I’m gonna miss your ass when you go,” said Flex.  “Hell, maybe we’ll go with you.”

“Nah,” said Dave.  “I don’t need any amateurs with us, slowing us down.”

“Yeah.  I get it.”

Flex hit the I-293 and headed south, blowing through the toll booth.

“You’re going to get dinged.  That ticket’s coming in the mail,” said Hemp.

“I’ll hold my breath,” said Flex.  “Should only be about ten miles up now.  Weapons
all set
?”

“Yes, but with the WAT-6, we might not even need them,” said Hemp.

“You know our philosophy, my friend,” Flex said.  “No zombie left alive.”

“
Leave the ones behind bars,” said Hemp.  “They’re not going anywhere, and I might be able to use them later.  I’m not done experimenting – not even close.”

Seven minutes later they pulled up to the prison gate.  It was already open.

Hemp did have to pick the lock leading into the main building, and when
they
stepped inside, it was like a goddamned zoo designed by the sickest bastard who ever lived.

And it smelled even worse. 
All three of the men
tossed
their
breakfasts simultaneously.

Pop Tarts on the right.  Omelets on the left. 
They wiped their mouths and
stood
very still, guns in hand, waiting for the zombies to walk right by them.

*****

Gem had kept her promise to herself.  At sixty yards, all of her fired bolts were flying true and penetrating the distant target within an inch of the bulls eye.

“You’ll get better,” said Charlie.  “This one is so much better than the old one I had.  No sight, nothing.  But to tell you the truth, I might have been a bit better with it because I’d used it for so long.  This one has way better range, but takes some getting used to.”

They turned to watch as
Taylor
finished loading her
.38 Special.  She wanted to use the 9mm, but they held magazines, and neither hers nor Trina’s fingers could yet push the rounds into the mag.  So they were content to use revolvers, which they could easily empty and reload.

And both of them were damned fast. 

Taylor
raised her weapon, sited the target, around ten feet away, and fired five times in rapid succession.  Her pattern was about ten inches, and they were all surrounding the bulls eye, with three of them within one inch.

“Holy shit!” said Charlie.  “
Tay
, that’s awesome!”

Taylor
turned and smiled.  “Thanks, Charlie.” 

Taylor
had cut her
own
bangs
about a week earlier
, and at first they looked pretty bad, but now had grown in.

Gem was glad.  She used to be given haircuts at home as a girl, and she never failed to think that her mother should be banned from ever holding scissors again. 

“Practice makes perfect,” she said.  “I wonder if Jimmy can shoot as good as me.”

“Don’t dare tell him we’re letting you use a .38,” said Gem.  “We’re in trouble enough trying to defend Trina.”

“Mum’s the word,” said Charlie.  “Right?”

“You want me to lie?” asked
Taylor
, mortified.

“Hell yes,” said Serena.  “White lie.  Lets you keep shooting the .38.  Is it worth it?”

“Oh, yes,” said
Taylor
.  “I’ll just say it was a .22.”

“Perfect,” said Gem.  “See, Charlie?  We’re going to be wonderful parents.”

Both Trina and Taylor turned and said at the same time, “You already are.”