Dead Hunger: The Flex Sheridan Chronicle by Eric A. Shelman

buildings with secure airtight bunkers are deeper within the complex.”
    “Did you spend a lot of time here?” Gem asked.
    “Absolutely.  I did quite a bit of work here during the swine flu scare, as well as some pretty intense research on some other viruses that were never shared with the public.”
    “Doesn’t keeping epidemics from the public defeat the purpose of the CDC? ” I asked.  “ Aren’t they supposed to tell the public how to avoid contracting diseases and viruses ?”
    Hemp looked somber.  “Flex, there was no preventing the ones I’m referring to.  It only would have served to send people into a panic.  But that said, the one that seems to have gained a footing – this one – is more devastating than any I saw.  If not for us, I’d call this one a world-ender.”
    “If not for us?”
    Gem interjected.  “I think Hemp mean s that with us alive and uninfected, there’s a chance this thing runs its course.  People like us will be left to repopulate and rebuild.”
    “It remains to be seen how long these people last once they’ve become infected.  I won’t know anything until I’m able to study some of them; learn about their new physiology, heart, lungs, brains, motor skills, communication skills, if any.”
    I shook my head.  “I don’t think there are any communication skills.  Just body language, and that’s always the same.  I’m hungry, and you’re food.”
    Gem smiled at me.  “Flexy, was that a joke?”
    “Fuck, don’t I wish,” I said.  “Let’s get through this barrier and past that mess and see what we find in these other buildings.  Hemp, lead the way, brother.”
    “First things first,” he said.  He walked over to the automatic barrier and analyzed it for a moment.  Then he removed a plastic cover, pulled a lever, and the gate unlatched.  A moment later he was rolling it open.
    “You are an engineer,” Gem said.
    It had taken him under sixty seconds.
    “Yes, I am,” he said, smiling. 
    The heat from the blazing aircraft could be felt through the side windows of the Suburban as we drove past the tangled wreckage.   There were torsos, trunks, arms, legs, and various other unidentifiable body parts strewn among the seats, metal and burning plastic chunks .  We had to skirt over a hundred and fifty feet to the left just to get the Suburban past the debris.
    “That was close,” Gem said, hugging Trina to her side.  “You okay, baby?”
    Trina looked up at her and nodded.  “Yeah.  But I’m hungry.”
    “We’ll get some food when we stop.  Want more Cheerios?”
    “I guess.  Do we have any milk and sugar?”
    “I’m afraid not, sweetie.  Maybe Gemmy will stop and get us some.  It might not be that cold, though.”
    “Okay,” Trina said.
    I was a bit worried about her.  She seemed to be in shock.  I was no expert, but wouldn’t be surprised.  I was even happier to have Gem with her.  Trin a loved Gem.
    “Pull up here, to Building #3,” Hemp said.  “If their emergency systems are up, then they’ve got cameras and should be able to see us at the entry.  There are two large bunkers beneath this building, with storage garage s , and laboratories are on the upper levels .  We should be able to achieve whatever we might expect right here.”
    “And what do we expect?” I asked.  “I don’t think I really had any idea.  Just seemed like the place to go.”
    “Equipment, maybe some explanations, too.  If anybody here is still . . . well, human.”  Hemp shrugged.  “And you’re right.  It’s our best bet.”
     
     
    We got out of the Suburban and Gem scooped up Trina and carried her in her arms.  We relegated the dog to the vehicle for the time being – there was not much sense in having her running around in her condition, no t sure exactly what might come around the next bend.
    There were no abnormals around – at least not yet – so we felt relatively safe, what with the tremendous firepower we’d