Dead Hunger: The Flex Sheridan Chronicle (36 page)

It was hard for them, we knew.  In times like these, strangers can suddenly become very close, as we all discovered.

And while there was safety in numbers in typical scenarios, it seems the numbers of both zombies and otherwise were greater in the big city.  I preferred my little hideaway.

We told them that we’d always be listening, and we’d try to keep them up to date on where we were and where we were headed.  It wasn’t that we wanted a larger group to slow us down, but it did feel good to know there were others out there, fighting and trying to survive, perhaps eventually returning the world to the living.

One evening, about three weeks
after
the whole thing began, Hemp and I sat together on the porch while the girls were looking at what to whip up for dinner. 
He was on the cushioned sofa, and I sat on the chain-hung wood swing bench, slowly moving forward and back.

We’d been laying out plans for a cool
,
kinetically activated machine that would spin 50 7-1/2” circular saw blades through the air at varying heights, but all ranging between 4’10” and 5’10”.  It would spin them out at an RPM of 1,750, at a forward speed of 150 MPH, and at a distance of about 100 feet before they became ineffective.  This was all speculation, but I completely trusted Hemp’s brain, and I knew he’d considered the weight, size and every other factor.

Wind was the one
thing
we’d be unable to control.  This would likely be a weapon for a still day, but the closer you placed the machine to the tripwire, the more effective it would be.  Heads would be a-shreddin’.

“
I think it’s time I said good bye,” I said.

Hemp nodded.  He knew what I meant. 

“To Jamie.”

Now it was my turn to nod. 

“What she’s going through is no way to exist, Flex.  I know you know that.  And recovery . . . well, I’ve already concluded it’s not possible.  Not at this
advanced
stage, anyway.”

“And she was almost this bad three days after we found her,” I said.  “They go downhill fast.”

“But they don’t die without the brain trauma, and they seem to maintain enough strength to feed.  Maybe not enough for the vapor, but again, the natural order of their abilities is get food, then get abilities to catch food easier.”

Gem walked out of the house.  She sat on the wood bench swing beside me and rested her hand on my knee.

“We’re talking about Jamie,” I said.

“Is it time?” she asked, her eyes focused on mine.

“It’s past time.  I know that.”

“I love her, too, Flex.  Everyone who knew her did.”

“And
nearly everyone who loves her is
gone,” I said.  “Except for Trina and us.”

“We’ll have to tell her somehow.  It’s her mother, and Trina has to know she’s gone.
”

“Yes, and I want to – I
have
to – tell her the truth.  Not about the zombie shit, but that
her mommy and sister
died.  She needs to come to terms with death.”

Gem was quiet for a long time.  She gently pushed the swing back and forth, one leg tucked beneath her, the other pushing off from the porch.  Then she looked at me and squeezed my leg where her hand rested. 

“One of the puppies isn’t doing well,” said Gem
.  “The one named Beaker.  Runt male
,
stopped eating completely
.  Maybe wait until we see what happens there?  A little introduction to death before the big one?”

“Well, if we can save it shouldn’t we?” I asked.  No sense in killing something just to make something else easier.

“Jesus, Flexy, don’t you think we’ve tried
bottle feeding?  We weren’t sacrificing the poor boy.”

I laughed, and it was a quiet, insincere sound.  “
I know better.  Sorry.  I suppose l
ittle Beaker better figure out which way to go fast, then.  I can’t
allow Jamie this existence much longer.”

I hesitated.  I didn’t want to commit.  It was like not wanting to say you’re full because the dinner tastes so good you want to keep eating.  Or
not
telling
anyone
you’re quitting smoking because you know you won’t be able to do it.  I didn’t want to say I would end my sister’s life tonight, because I knew there was a damned good chance I’d fucking chicken out.  But I steeled myself and formed the words anyway.

“
Tonight, Gem.  I want to let her be at peace tonight.”

Gem’s eyes welled up and she stared at the faded boards of my porch deck.  She didn’t look up.  Then she stood
from the bench swing
and went back in the house.  She wasn’t mad.  I knew she was thinking about her little Rabbit
, her little Jesse, buried in that godforsaken hole at the only home she’d ever known.  She was thinking about that little girl’s father, whom she’d also known and loved, and she was thinking about
all the
other horror
s we’d faced. 

And now I
was forced to vocalize that I had decided to
kill
my
baby sister
.  Gem knew more than me.

She
realized
what
making that decision
would do to me even more than I did.

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

We could
all feel it.  It was palpable, like
a
putrid scent in the air
or a low-hanging mist
would be impossible to ignore
.  The solemnity of the task that lay ahead had us all on the edge of tears. 

Even Hemp couldn’t be consoled.  He’d treated Jamie with a respect that none of
us
would have afforded to any of the
other infecteds
.  He
considered
pain a factor when he poked, prodded, or attached things to her skin, or when he removed them.

He treated this thing like she was a member of the family, because she was.

I knew this.  I’d seen it.  And I appreciated it.

But how to do it; how to take her life, for
as much of a life as
it was.
  How to make sure it was clean and effective.  Hemp had some ideas, but I needed to make sure it would be fast.

Our guns lying in the grass beside us
beneath
a 12’ x 12’ canopy set up with aluminum poles and thin guy wires, Hemp and I
reclined
in the grass watching the girls – and I mean all of them – working some target practice.

As they watched, Charlie walked to the target with a hammer and three nails.  She hammered in a nail at the top of the plywood backboard, and two at the bottom left and right.  Then she pulled a ½” diameter rope from around her waist and tied it around all three of them, essentially drawing an isosceles triangle.

She walked back and pulled an arrow from the quiver on her back.

“Ready?” she asked Trina.

Trina nodded.

“Don’t blink.”

“I won’t,” said Trina.  Gem stood beside them and smiled.

Flex watched with intensity. 

And Charlie counted quickly to three.  One arrow flew, then another, and another.  That fast.

And in each section of the triangle, the arrows pierced the center of the rope.

“Holy shit!” said Hemp.

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” I said.

“Nice,” said Gem.  “I gotta learn that shit.”

And so the girls continued practice.

Yes, even Trina.  She had become excellent at holding the
Taurus .22
steady, and her trigger pulls were almost tender for a child of her years.  What none of us knew was if she would be prepared for the kick and the bang
of a live round
.

“I’d like to put a round in there for her,” Gem called to me. 

I nodded and held a thumbs up, then said,
“Trini, this is a big deal, now you listen to Auntie Gem very carefully, okay?”

Trina had been listening to the heftier booms that the other guns made, though she was wearing ear protection as well as eye protection
.  She whipped off the earphones and said, “I get to shoot it?  Really shoot it?”

“If you listen to Gemmy you can do it more than once,” I said.

She leapt in the air again and again, and I did notice that as she held the gun, it remained pointed away from everyone.  If she could do it at this excitement level, I think she was about trained.

Gem knelt down and slid a bullet into the cartridge.  Then, looking quickly at me, she slid another in and snapped it closed again, spinning the
cylinder around to take advantage of the loads.  She then handed the gun back to Trina and turned her gently by the shoulders toward the nearest target.

“Now you NEVER shoot while someone is down range.  If you see anyone who is not a bad person in the direction of your gun, keep the barrel down, away from them, and never shoot it.  Now.  Think you’re ready to put a hole in that target?”

“Ready!” she shouted. 

I could not wipe the smile from my face.  This is exactly what I needed.  Hemp was in a similar state.  I slapped him on the arm, and we both smiled bigger.

Trina raised the gun with both little hands.  She pulled back the hammer with both thumbs working together.

Her arms straight out, she held the gun steady.

“Trini, I want you to aim for the center dot.  It’s red.  Just do the best you can, and remember how I told you to use the sights, okay?”

One eye was squeezed shut.  “I got it in there now,” she said.  “The stick thing is balanced in the V thing.  Can I shoot?”

“Remember the kick, baby,” I said. 

“Okay.  Shoot,” Gem said.

She fired the gun.  A hole appeared two inches from the center of the target, and Trina staggered back one step, like an Olympic gymnast who’d just missed her landing with a slight over rotation.

“Did I hit it?” she asked?

Gem applauded, and Charlie laid down her weapon and did the same.  Hemp and I stood and gave her the ovation she deserved.

“Yes!  You nearly hit the
bull’s-eye
!”

Trina knelt down, put the gun on the ground, then stood up, raised both hands in the air and jumped up, screaming, “Fuck yes, I did!  Yay!”

And we all looked at each other and laughed our asses off.

After a few more shots and more
respectful handling of the .22, we felt comfortable that Trina was getting the hang of it.  Turns out she wasn’t as good as her first shot, but her little arms were getting tired.  She’d been playing with the empty gun long before she’d been allowed to load it, so we gave her some slack.

Gem, Charlie and Trina packed up their weapons and started talking about dinner and picking up some more fuel the next day.  Waving at us, they headed for the house.

We waved back, but as Hemp started to get up, I took him by the arm, holding him there.  The evening was fading to dusk, and Jamie wouldn’t leave my mind.

“I think I’d like to do it, Hemp.  No fanfare.  A bullet to the brain.  We know it works, we know it’s quick.  I don’t want to try anything cute that makes her suffer in any way.”

“Understood,” he said.  “Maybe let Gem say a goodbye, first?”

“I’m sure she’ll come in with me.  You don’t have to.  I think I’d actually prefer it be just me and Gem with her.”

“I don’t have any opposition to that, Flex.  You both loved her.  Makes sense.  Charlie and I will stay with Trina, and you can have your talk with her after.
”

“I understand Beaker died about an hour ago,” I said.

Hemp nodded. 
“Yeah.  We didn’t tell her yet.  Thought we’d just remove the pup and tell her when she noticed.  She knew he wasn’t doing well, so we tried t
o prepare her
by
explaining that especially in dogs, with such large litters, it’s quite common for some not to survive.”

“And did she grasp that?”

“She got into the whole heaven thing, and of course we explained that all good people and animals go there when they die.  Seemed
like
a good lead-in.”

“
Right.  You’re right.  It was.”

I looked at my watch. 
“
I don’t think I want to eat before I do this,” I said.  “I’m hungry, but so is she.  The difference is, I’ll get to eat eventually – if I can.  She’ll never get what she wants.”