Free Dead Hunger IV: Evolution by Eric A. Shelman Page A

saw Flex shoot the other one , she turned away.”
    Hemp gently took the radio from Gem’s belt.
    “Bring the woman inside, Flex,” he said.  “The one in the red dress.”
    Flex looked around, then raised his radio to his lips.  “She’s heading in the other direction.”
    “Put down your gun and she’ll stop walking that way,” said Hemp.
    Flex motioned for Dave to lower his weapon, and Flex did the same.  Sure enough, the half-bald, half-blonde zombie in the knee-length red dress glanced backward and slowly reversed direction.
    “You’re going to have to push your way through the rest, Flex.  We can lock her in the garage or something.  Just bring her inside.”
    Flex raised his radio.  “Sounds like a fuckin’ party, Hemp.”
    “The goddamned ratz,” said Gem. 
    “Wow,” said Charlie.  “ I was so focused on their heads, I missed them.  How did I do that?”
    “Hurry, guys.  Get in here.”
    Dave opened the door of the truck again, hit one of the other zombies hard with the door, reached inside, and pulled out a bottle of urushiol spray.
    Hemp knew immediately what he was doing.  They couldn’t afford to have any of the ratz making their way inside the house.  When the WAT-6 wore off, they could be very dangerous and hard to locate.
    “He’s got her,” said Gem, almost in a whisper.
    “Boy, does he,” said Charlie. 
    It was mesmerizing, Hemp had to admit, watching the zombies handled like domesticated animals. 
    Flex had his radio button pushed, but wasn’t talking.  Suddenly, the sound of barking filled the dead radio air.
    Lots of it. 
    The horde around Flex and Dave suddenly turned and almost ran the men over as they pushed against one another to get to something Hemp could not see.
    Flex turned , and Hemp could see surprise wash over his face.  He raised his radio.
    “It’s a goddamned pack of dogs!”
    Hemp pressed the button on the radio.  “ It makes sense, Flex.  They can’t smell you, but the live dogs must smell like a cookout.  They’re going for the food source.”
    Flex gripped the arm of the one in the red dress, pulling her beside him.  He said something to her that Hemp could obviously not hear , then started firing madly into the crowd of zombies approaching him.  The one he gripped struggled, but did not attempt to bit e or scratch him.
    Hemp watched, wondering.  Did she fear the weapon?  Like any hostage might?
    Dave started wildly spraying urushiol in the air, and as he ran in front of Flex, the spray caught the woman-thing in the red dress.  She recoiled from it, and her mouth opened in a scream, but she did not melt.
    She didn’t melt , thought Hemp.  My God , what is this?
    The spray did the trick with the others near the men, though.  Red dress was stunned and momentarily confused.  Flex pulled her onto the porch as Gem flipped the lock and pulled open the door.  Flex, Dave and the female zombie came inside in a rush, and Gem slammed the door behind them.
    “Get the bitch in the garage,” said Charlie.  “I don’t want her in here for a second!”
    Then came a growl.  It was joined by a nother low, deep snarl .  Just as Hemp and Flex looked toward the source of the sounds, the girls cried together, “Bunsen!  Slider!  Stay there!  Don’t move!”
    “Jesus, Gem!” shouted Flex.  “Get them restrained!  You know they never listen to those girls!”
    “Shit!” said Gem.  “ Bunsen, don’t move!”
    But it was too late.  The protective instincts of the two Great Pyrenees kicked in, and they charged down the steps, taking them three at a time.
    Hemp watched as Flex doubled his grip on the zombie’s arm, but while the dogs had seen her as a threat, she smelled their flesh and blood and her insti ncts took over, seeing them less as a threat than a meal.
    She gnashed and pulled away from Flex , trying to get to the stairway.   Had her fingernails not been torn off or worn down to nothing, she would have drawn blood with