“Oh, Flex.”
“I know,” he said. “Just do it. Please.
And tell them to bring at least five of the full five-gallon gas cans with them.
”
*****
When she hung up the phone, Gem went over to Charlie, who was sitting with Taylor and Trina.
“I want to go home,” said
Taylor
. “Can we go?”
“Yeah mommy,” said Trina,
who was awake now, but appeared to be in a daze.
“I don’t like it here
,” she said, rubbing her eyes.
“
Where did everybody come from?
Where are Bunsen and Slider at?
”
Bunsen and Slider. Gem had thought about them periodically, but they were at the house, and she had never had reason to think they wouldn’t make it back to them.
Gem chose to ignore the question for now. She knew there would be no convincing anyone to let her go retrieve the dogs, nor did she even think it wise, as much as she loved them.
“The doggies are fine,” said Gem. “While you were sleeping, we had lots more visitors.”
When Trina had fallen asleep, the room was full, but now it was almost packed. If Gem had to guess, she would estimate there were now over two hundred people
jammed
into the bar and adjacent hallway leading to the lab.
“Girls,” said Charlie, “you’re going to have to settle in and be patient. Uncle Flexy is out there now trying to figure something out. You trust him to do that, right?”
Trina and Taylor nodded. Trina said, “I don’t like this anymore. I miss my lessons and shooting, and videos.”
“In that order?” asked Gem, smiling.
“Maybe shooting first,” said Trina. “Then videos and then school.”
“I thought as much. You two get something to eat and drink. Go see Victoria, and she’ll get you fed. I’ve got to talk to Charlie for a minute.”
Two big sighs. “O
kay,” they said, simultaneously
.
Gem and Charlie
moved through the crowd as best they could
, and found a corner with enough space for the two of them
to huddle
.
“Flex needs Nelson and Dave to meet him
,” whispered Gem.
“
He says we’re about to be overrun, and he’s got a plan.”
“A good plan?” asked Charlie.
“He didn’t say, but he needs my car with the winch, and he needs the guys to help.”
“Dave’s in bad shape,” said Charlie.
“I know, but I have a feeling it’s nothing compared to the shape we’ll all be in if he can’t work through it. Fast.”
“Okay. I know Dave and he’s tougher than he lets on. Let’s get him going.”
*****
Flex hooked the chain up to the bumper of the car and waved at Lawrence West. He hit the power button, and the cable started feeding back into the winch. Flex’s truck remained stationary as the dirty Dodge Magnum spun around and began rolling into the street.
They had made it past the fire line and the hoard of zombies and ratz moving southward by
taking a two-mile detour. They had found the western edge of the fire line, and once in the clear, had driven fast eastward.
“Stop!” said Flex.
“
That’s good. Now that
Toyota
over there.”
“Is this going to be enough?” asked
Bell
.
“Depends on how fast Dave and Nelson get here. We need the other winch.”
Over the roar of the flames to the north, they all heard the rumble of the Crown Vic’s engine at the same time. Headlights off, the Ford barreled up and Nelson rolled down the window as he slammed on the brakes.
“We’re here,” said Nelson. “Tell us what you need.”
“Head over one street to the west. The rotters are heading south, and right now they’re about a mile away, and we need to block these streets. Did you bring the gas?”
“Yeah, are you running empty?”
“No, we’re good. Give us two cans.”
Dave hopped out of the car and opened the trunk. He withdrew two of the red, five-gallon gas cans and carried them over to Flex’s truck.
“Waylon,” said Flex. “Dig through the cars and find some clothes, shirts, towels, whatever. Pop the gas caps and stuff them in. Then douse the interiors of the cars, but don’t use any more than you have to. Just make sure they’ll catch.”
“You got it, Flex.”
“How are you, Dave?” asked Flex. “I’m sorry to drag you out here.”
“I suck, to be honest, Flex. But it’s the new normal, I guess. Let’s do this.”
“Okay, same thing we’re doing. We need to block every street running north and south, and set the homes on fire in between. Just break a window or two, dump a little gas in, and light it.”
“Shit, Flex,” said Dave. “Is there enough time?”
“They move pretty slowly,” said
Flex
. “It’s the only plan we have to slow them down more.”
“Got it,” said Dave. He hurried back to the car and got inside.
“We’ll see you guys,” said Nelson. “Be careful.”
“You, too.”
*****
Most of the residential streets were a single, undivided roadway with one lane running in each direction. Two cars, if long enough, were enough to block most of them, driving the hoard onto the lawns. The driveways were short, and two more cars would almost block them as well.
The winch
was agonizingly slow. Eddie remained asleep in the truck, which was fine by Flex. The kid had been through enough, and three guys was plenty to do what they needed to do. Nikki sat in back with him, his head resting on her lap.
“You alright?” asked Flex, checking on her.
“Yeah,” she said. “How much longer?”
“I have no idea,” he said. “If we can drive them to the west or stop them a while, it’ll help. Hang tight.”
“Hanging,” she said, with a wave.
They finished with another street and drove two blocks. As they passed Nelson and Dave on the next street, they were pulling a Cadillac up over the curb to block off an open gap between a tall hedge and the street.
Flex threw up a hand in a wave and drove on.
They continued this for the next two hours. By the time they were finished, they’d obstructed fifteen blocks of streets. All in all, they’d moved around forty-five cars.
Everyone was exhausted. It would have to do. They’d blocked every street from North Main to
Auburn
, starting at
Jericho
.
They met on the corner of
Liberty
, where Dave and Nelson had just finished pulling the last car into place and dousing it with what remained of their gasoline.
“Okay,” said Flex. “I have a feeling we’re running out of time. Let’s torch ‘em and head back to Three Sisters Bar.”
*****
Hemp had taken Kevin Reeves out of the
hyperbaric
chamber. He was looking and feeling very good, and Hemp felt he was out of the woods. His eyes were clear, and even better, his urushiol-coated injuries looked very benign.
With the reluctant assistance of two men who had only recently arrived at the bar, a
young,
Russian fellow by the name of
Andrei Sovtek with muscles the size of a side of beef, and another big man named Horace Neeley, who looked like he spent most of his pre-apocalypse days at the gym, they got Hemp’s female rotter onto the gurney and strapped down.
Once she was secure, Hemp snipped away at the fish net and pulled it away from her. She stared up at him as though she knew her powers would have no effect on this strange creature. No vapor emitted from her eyes.
Hemp approached the two waiting women.
“Who wants to go first?” he asked.
Neither volunteered.
“Kimberly?” he asked. “Are you ready?”
“I guess so,” she said. “Do I have to go near her?”
“I’m afraid so,” said Hemp.
“No artificial insemination, nothing like that?”
“This is different, Kimberly. I’m afraid not.”
Kimberly shook her head and took a deep breath.
Doc Scofield walked up. “I’ll be right here, and I’ve got oxygen and even some
adrenaline
ready in case you have some sort of reaction. I’ve got other options, but we won’t know if anything is necessary without getting started.”
“I know,” said Kimberly, standing. “So, just walk over to the table and let her see me?”
“That’s about it.
Doc Scofield and I are
going to wear masks, but only because we haven’t experienced this firsthand. Based on Dave’s
encounter with the vapor
, I don’t think it will affect our gender, but
we’re just being cautious.”
“Here goes nothing,” said Kimberly.
She walked tentatively over to the gurney, stopping beside it. The zombie’s head turned toward her.
Kimberly began to cry, but she did not walk away.
Hemp
approached the gurney, standing on the opposite side from Kimberly,
but the creature did not
turn toward
him. Her eyes began to glow brighter and brighter crimson, the mist beginning to flow. Slowly, it intensified until the red vapor collected over her head and
eventually drifted upward until it
reached Kimberly’s face.
Hemp looked at Kimberly.
“Don’t hold your breath,” said Hemp, his voice muffled through his mask. “You have to breathe it in, Kimberly.”
The frightened woman
, fighting her tears,
released her breath and breathed in with a shudder. She
held it for a moment and let it out. Kimberly then inhaled deeper.
“I’m dizzy,” she said.
Hemp held up one finger.
Just one more breath.
Kimberly understood, and exhaled again, taking another full breath.
She released it and moved away from the gurney. Kimberly fell into a nearby chair and stared at Hemp and the doctor.
“How do you feel?” asked Rebecca. “Are you okay?”
“Just spinning a little,” said
Kimberly. “Tingling, too.”
Hemp walked to her and pulled his mask up. “What’s tingling?”
“My head. Like all the blood rushed from my brain or something.”
“Sit there a bit,” said Hemp. He motioned to Rebecca. “Now you, okay?”
Rebecca looked carefully at Kimberly, and slowly rose from her chair.
She moved to the side of the gurney, glancing back at Hemp, who nodded and provided his best reassuring look.
She stopped and looked down at the thing on the gurney, who had once just been another citizen of Concord, New Hampshire, now a victim of the apocalypse, ravaged, yet more powerful than many of her former neighbors who had suffered the same fate.
“I … I know her,” said Rebecca, her voice so low that Hemp barely made out the words. “Oh, my God. That’s Nancy Freeman.”
She turned to look at Hemp. “She used to babysit me.”
No sooner did the words leave her lips, an eruption of scarlet vapor engulfed her. The creature was generating more vapor than Hemp had ever seen before. The room quickly became clouded with it, and Rebecca choked it into her lungs, coughing it out. She staggered away from the table, and Kimberly jumped from her seat to catch the woman before she hit the wall.
Scofield grabbed a sheet from beneath one of the counters and quickly shook it out, dropping it over the restrained rotter.
He rushed to the chair into which Kimberly had settled Rebecca.
The effect was instantaneous. Rebecca’s eyes glowed red.
“Open that door, Jim,” said Hemp. “Crack it first and make sure it’s clear.”
Scofield moved quickly for a man of his years, withdrawing a Ruger from his side holster and making sure a round was in the chamber. He pushed open the door and stuck his head out.
“Clear,” he said, opening it.
“Fan it,” said Hemp. “Let’s try to clear some of this stuff out.”
As the doctor opened and closed the door quickly several times, a low hum began, as if from nowhere and everywhere at once. It became a thrum, then a steady vibration.
Hemp moved cautiously to the gurney and withdrew the sheet.
The creature’s throat convulsed, pulsated. Its mouth opened and closed, but the sound continued.
“Kill them all,” said Rebecca.
Hemp looked at her. She looked at him, her expression one of pure shock.