Read Online Dead Hunger II: The Gem Cardoza Chronicle by Eric A. Shelman - Free Book Online Page A

Charlie and she’d put two and two together.  She didn’t need to be a psychologist to figure out that I was not fit to protect anyone.  I nodded my head and she took my arm.
    I sat in the car, Cynthia beside me stroking my arm as I let out the rest of my tears.  I drank deeply off a bottle of water, and tried to calm myself.
    And I realized Cynthia was a warm, caring person.  While comforting me, she never even asked what upset me in the first place.  She only knew what I needed.
     
    *****
     
    Flex walked out of the now rolled-open service bay dragging a cord.  It was nearly an inch thick and it appeared long enough to reach the generator mounted on the tongue of the Mobile Lab.  Once it was plugged in, Hemp fired the generator and five seconds later, the digital display of the diesel pump came to life, glowing yellow.
    “Bingo!” shouted Hemp.  “Pump on!”
    I smiled.  At least something good was happening.  I noted the other pump on the island also lit, and that was good, because it was gasoline.  We might as well all fill up.  I pulled the car over so that when Hemp moved the lab I’d be able to reach the Ford’s filler pipe with the nozzle.
    Flex walked out and tapped on my window.  I rolled it down.
    “Doing better, babe?” he asked.
    I shrugged, looking up at him.  “It’s going to take a while.  That shit threw me for a loop.”
    Flex nodded, patted my shoulder and said nothing.  He went to where Hemp stood pumping diesel into the filler spout in the side of the behemoth.
    “What’d you do, swipe your credit card?” he asked.
    “Nope.  Picked the bypass lock.  Mechanical engineer, remember?”
    “Yeah, but a lock picker?  Guns, lock picking.  Anything else you’re not telling me?”
    “I suppose you’ll find out little by little.  Hey, Flex.  What happened in there?”
    I heard him ask the question, and I know Hemp was aware I was distressed.
    “We’ll talk about it later, Hemp,” Flex said.
    “No,” I said.  “It’s okay, Flexy.  Hemp, I shot an uninfected inside.  I didn’t realize he was pretending to be dead, and I don’t trust the dead anymore.  I figured it out after it was too late.”
    Hemp nodded, a look of empathy on his face.  It could’ve happened to any one of us.
    “I want to bury him, Flex.”
    “We don’t have time for that –”
    “We’ll make time,” I said.
    Flex thought a minute.  “I have a better idea.  Hemp, keep pumping.  Gem, come with me.”
    I got out of the car and followed Flex into the service bay.  He pointed at the service pit. 
    “Surrounded by concrete.  The tires are off that car up on the lift, so we’ll put him down in the pit and release the hydraulics, sealing him in with that car.  He’ll be more secure than in the ground.”
    It worked for me.  We both put on some of the latex mechanic gloves and I got the man’s feet.  I saw his name tag said Donald.
    Flex lifted him under the arms and we slid-carried him around and lowered his body down inside.  He was a thin man with short, grey hair.  Somewhere in his mid-sixties from the looks of him.
    “Donald, I hope my mistake has taken you to a place where you don’t have to be afraid anymore,” I said.
    I stared down at his body in the service pit for what I guess had to be two minutes.  Mentally I was exhausted.  This fuckup seemed to have brought every emotional ball I’d been juggling down on top of me.  I looked at Flex.
    “Think you’re ready?” he asked.
    “I think so.” I said a silent prayer for Donald’s soul as the hydraulics hissed and the mechanic was sealed in with the old Chrysler sedan.
    “Let’s get the other tanks filled and find a motel,” I said.  “I’m beat to shit.”
    Flex put his arm around me and we walked back to the cars, finished our business and left the station, all with full tanks.
    The cars, that is.  Just the cars.
     
    *****

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SIX
     
     
     
    We found an EconoLodge on