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

cemetery.”
    He did.  I pulled behind him, and Hemp lined up behind me.  My radio clicked again.
    “What’s the problem?” Hemp asked.  Max Romero had ridden with him despite the stink of the deteriorators in the back .  Charlie rode with Flex as she had on the way to the CDC .
    “Park it.  We need a confabu-fucking-lation in the street about now.   See you out there.”
    Cynthia and the girls stayed inside the car and I’d asked Cynthia to keep them busy doing anything except watching us.
    We all stood and watched the graveyard intently.  Every few moments we saw little movements of mud here and there.  Not everywhere, but over the period of ten minutes, we probably saw fifteen.
    And we saw three of them completely break free of the earth and crawl out of their graves.
    “Oh, my God,” Flex said.
    I knew what he was thinking.  He was thinking about little Jesse and the fact that she was only buried about three feet deep .  I shook it from my mind.   I never wanted the thought to come back.  But it would, I knew.  Again and again.
    “They’re reanimating,” whispered Hemp.   “They might have awoken days ago, but the rain’s allowed them the soft earth to dig their way out.”
    “That’s determination,” said Flex.
    Invisible worms slithered along my spinal column and I shuddered involuntarily. 
    Charlie was incredulous.  “But how, if they’ve been embalmed?  Their brains would be gone.”
    “Embalming isn’t required by law, except for an open casket viewing, mostly,” said Flex.  “And it’s not cheap, so lots of families just do a ceremony and a thick cardboard casket.”
    I looked at him.  “And how the fuck do you know that?”
    He would’ve smiled, I know – but what we were seeing negated any smirking that otherwise would’ve gone on.
    “I did a rewiring job at a funeral home once,” he said.  “In a rural area.  I asked , and the director explained that very often, people without a lot of money just opt out of the embalming services .”
    “And we’re in an area where people don’t have a ton of money,” Max said.
    Charlie and the rest of us were mesmerized as we watched.  A flesh-eater of indeterminate gender pushed itself out of its grave, crawled for four feet, then stood on prisoner of war-thin legs covered only by the tattered remains of some sort of pants.  Apparently the six-foot dirt trip north effectively tore whatever shirt it had been wearing from its body.
    The rotter, having gained its footing, turned its strange eyes toward us.  It then tilted its head up as a distant dog might do that just caught the scent of its quarry.   Next, it started stutter-walking in our direction like an evil marionette doll controlled by Satan himself .
    “Time to go,” I said.  “As much as I want to rid the world of these things, this could take too long.  I want to get to where we’re going, but we still have to figure out exactly where that is.”
    “I’m thinking nowhere near a cemetery,” said Flex.
    “Unbelievable,” added Hemp.  “Actual zombies.”
    He looked at us each for a brief moment.  “Guys, I know this sounds crazy, but I need one of them, too.  The diggers.”
    “Diggers?” I asked.
    “We need some way to differentiate between them, so I guess diggers about covers it.  As for grabbing one, I’m pretty sure we’ll know where to find them.”
    Everyone stared in silence for a moment before returning to their respective vehicles .  Flex took my hand briefly before releasing it.   I knew what it meant.
    You and me, babe.
    “Good catch” he said.
    “Thank Trina,” I said as I closed the door of the Crown Vic.
    The walking corpse was now about fifteen yards from the road.
    I swung my roof-mount gun toward it, hit the B switch on my GPS screen, and lined t he dirty fuck up in my crosshairs.  I turned to the back seat.
    “Eyes on your knees, girls.  Now.”
    They both obeyed.  I noticed Cynthia looked at her knees, too.  I