Dead Hunger II: The Gem Cardoza Chronicle by Eric A. Shelman

toward Gem’s feelings on that,” Hemp said.  “Flex, you told the group at the 7-Eleven that you didn’t want to be a leader, and I get that.  I’m happy to share that duty among all of us, but the bigger the group the more cumbersome we are.  We lose fluidity with each new member of our little tribe here.”
    Max looked uncomfortable, and Cynthia , absentmindedly twirling a finger in her shoulder-length, wavy red hair, sat beside a sleeping Taylor and lightly stroked her daughter’s back as she listened . 
    Flex noticed and stepped in to set his mind at ease.
    “Max, we’re not talking about you,” he said.  “The three of you are not going to dramatically change our approach to any issues that come up.  We’ve already got a little girl, so one more isn’t going to change things much.  Plus, they could both use a friend.”
    He walked up to Max and put a hand on his shoulder.  “You helped us beyond measure, and we’ll help you without a second thought.  Stay with us as long as you like.”
    “I’d like that.  And I know these two don’t have anywhere else to go.  I trust you all, and not just because of my relationship with Dr. Chatsworth.  You’re good people and I like you.”
    “Settled.  Let’s head toward Birmingham .  Everyone okay with that?” Flex looked around.
    “Bama or bust,” I said.
    “Roll Tide,” said Charlie.
    “Bloody hell, let’s go.”  It was Hemp.  “I’ve no idea what either of you girls are talking about.”
    Charlie laughed.  “That’s because you’re a fucking limey,” she said , taking him by the arm .
    We gathered supplies and let Trina wake Taylor .  As we headed for the vehicles, the two girls held hands as they walked.  They were getting a feel for one another, and despite their age difference, when they started swinging their linked arms, I knew they’d be BFFs before long.
    We didn’t bother locking up.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
     
     
    We hit the interstate and realized it would be slow-going.  Whenever we came across any ghouls we put a quick bullet in their brains whether or not they were a threat.  It was the only way we were going to eradicate them.  Letting them walk on by because they weren’t bothering us didn’t make any sense.
    All of them had to die, and we knew it.
    The full day of rain we’d experienced had apparently been a massive storm system, and several sections of the roadway were heavily flooded, so this slowed us down, too.  And it is precisely because of this heavy flooding that we discovered a condition that gave us all great pause.  And along with that pause, came a feeling of realization and actual terror.  And while I’m at it, I may as well toss in a little despair, which, like the word delicious , is a word I don’t use frequently.
    I save delicious for Ruth’s Chris steaks and King Crab, and the occasional lobster.  I save despair for shit like what I’m about to tell you.
    The highway had been blocked by abandoned and wrecked cars, as well as flooding that was indeterminately deep.  The only way to get around it was to backtrack for two miles and exit at the previous off ramp.
    While on that particular detour, about forty-five minutes outside Birmingham , we passed a cemetery.  As I mentioned earlier, the rain had soaked the earth through.  This soaking served to soften up the ground.
    Trina, Taylor and Cynthia rode in the car with me.  Just us girls.  Since playing the “Spot a VW Beetle” game was not going to fly, they were just chattering and talking about what was outside.
    Oh, boy.  This gave them something to talk about.
    “There’s a man, Gemmy!” shouted Trina as we were midway past the cemetery.  I looked over, slowed the car, and grabbed the radio off the seat. 
    “Flex, do you copy ?”
    “ Gotcha .  What’s up, darlin’?”
    No pun intended , I thought .
    “What’s gotten up might be the question.  Stop the truck and take a look at the