Dead and Dead Again: Kansas City Quarantine

by Dalton Wolf

  But his friend stumbled onward, unblinking, moaning something unintelligible. His old friend wasn’t his old friend anymore. He was some kind of crazed creature out for a bite to eat.

  And I am the main course, he realized. With a prayer of forgiveness to the universe followed by several successive kicks, he smashed the man’s left knee, then his right and the man formerly known as Harold went down hard, but still without any kind of indication of pain that would be expected from any but the most heavily sedated. The sick man’s jaw clenched and released and the eyes followed Hephaestus, but the thing was now immobile, impotent. Hef walked around the man and grabbed his legs, leading him back towards the corner to give himself a little breathing room and keep the entrance clear while he planned out his immediate future. But as he rounded the corner, he saw three more men stumbling towards him.

  The first was on him almost before the overwhelming stench hit his nostrils and he had little chance to react. Luckily, Hephaestus was in such exceptional physical shape that he needed very little time to react, even stoned as he was. He jumped to the side and into a recovery roll Scooter had taught him. His nostrils could pick out only the stench of death and decay from the body that flew past and he wretched in disgust.

  Death. The Dead. The dead have risen. All of this flashed through his mind as he rolled. He knew now what he was facing. Acting only on instinct, he turned and threw an eight-inch steel dart into the head of the man who’d attacked him. The dart entered the eye socket and vitreous fluid squirted out as the eye popped. As the dart entered the brain, the former man fell into an impotent heap. Hephaestus turned quickly and sent out a mighty swing at the man-thing that was trying to jump on his back. The big homemade mace shattered the man-thing’s skull and continued out the other side. He threw another dart into the eye-socket of the last undead man lurching towards him.

  Its. They are its, not men, he modified his thinking after examining the bodies and sizing up the situation. With little delay, he pulled out his phone and called 911. There was no answer and no recording.

  “Of course,” he muttered. “Want to turn myself in and there is no one to take me.”

  He took a deep breath full of regret and pulled out his pipe, loading it with his best weed for one last smoke of freedom. When he finished filling the bowl, and held it up to his lighter, but paused. With a sigh, he walked over and pulled the darts from his victims skulls and wiped them on their clothes. He then shuffled over to the corner, bent over and, rigid as a man of thrice his own age, looked back at what he’d just done. Harold’s jaw and broken appendages were now the only things still moving in the side alley where four men had been not one minute before. He took one giant pull from his pipe and held it, then another, and again, all the while staring down at four corpses, one of which still twitched and moaned as it ached for a taste of his flesh. Hef repeated this process until the bowl was empty. How long he had stared down at the stinking piles of flesh he did not know, but he nearly had a heart attack when his phone rang.

  What in the hell? He jumped at something so normal after his brief, but dangerous life and death struggle. Ah. Nine-one-one calling me back. He didn’t even bother to look at the number. Good. Glad I smoked. I need to be high for this.

  “Hello?” he said slowly, feeling a bit more of a buzz than he’d expected.

  “Hephaestus, you still there, man?”

  So, not Nine-one-one…

  “Is that a trick question?”

  “I mean, are you still at your shop?”

  “Wha?”

  “Hef. I don’t have time to repeat myself.”

  “Tripper?”

  “Of course.”

  “I do not know how long I have been here, but I was certain I was the last man alive.”

  “How baked are you right now?”

  “Deep fried.”

  “Thought so.”

  “Tripper. I just killed four men.”

  “Oh man, I’m sorry, Dude.

  “Whatever you do, do not come over. There is a crazed gang on some serious drugs, or they are huffers or something. They were outside trying to break in. I had to kill a few of them. They were so jacked-up on something that I had to literally bash their heads in. And now I am high as your proverbial kite, my friend. That is going to mean some serious prison time for me. Or deportation at the very least. I do not want you mixed up in this. Being a foreigner, they will probably scream terrorism and send me to Gitmo. I tried to call the police and report myself, but no one is answering the phones.”

  “It’s not a gang, dude. They’re Stinking zombies. And the police are too busy saving their own asses to worry about you.”

  Zombies. That explains it. Thought so. Damn, I am high…I am so glad I am high.

  “That explains it,” he said calmly.

  “That’s it?”

  “That is what?”

  “I tell you there are Zombies running around and you just say that explains it?”

  “Yup.”

  “Don’t you want to know how or why?”

  “Would that change anything?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Tripper, I saw what they were and how they acted, and Zombies fits better than what I was trying to tell myself, so why do we not just get on with it? We were always told this day would come, even though few believed it. Now it is here. What do we do?”

  “Well…I don’t know. I don’t want to impose, but…”

  “I told you a long time ago you are on the list, Tripper. At first you were on as Calvin’s friend, but you earned it over time. And your lady friends are two of the best people I have met, so you are cool in three or four different ways. Which is pretty good for someone so decidedly uncool.”

  “Ouch.” Tripper laughed.

  “I have enough supplies for a dozen for a few months here and more in the mine if we need to get there.”

  “Thanks. You’re awesome, man. But I have to admit I’m a little concerned that they made it to you already. It’s not like you’re within walking distance of us.”

  “I cannot answer that for you, Tripper. I do not even know what is happening.”

  “It started here at the parade.”

  “Perhaps they took a bus. How are the streets there? Can you make it here?”

  “Yeah, I think so. We’re stuck here for now, but me and Sarah have found a nice hiding spot to hole up and make a few calls and it’s probably the best defended building in all of downtown.”

  “I would imagine that would be the federal building or the IRS.”

  “Maybe, but I bet they don’t have the high ground and efficient shooting arcs we have here.”

  “Listen to you, all military-sounding.”

  “It’s those military shows you and Gus make me watch when we’re smoking.”

  “You are the one who turns that garbage on, Tripper, we are the ones who suffer through it; do not dare blame that on us.”

  “Right. Sorry. I always forget you’re a pacifist. Listen, I gotta make more calls.”

  “Make what calls you can while you can. If, as you say, this is not a localized event, then I would expect the infrastructures to start breaking down fairly swiftly as panic begins to spread, if you all have not already shut down the nodes in your area. A million people using the same cell tower cannot be good for data flow. Try using text. The data will stay out there and wait for an opening in the network before initiating, so it is not like an unanswered call. It will still go through eventually.”

  “I know. Hey, Hef, we’ve got a doctor here with us who has something we need to protect at all costs…when we find it again, I mean.”

  “Is it bigger than a breadbox?”

  “What?”

  “Is it—”

  “—sorry. I wasn’t expecting a joke. Yes, it’s a suitcase. We need to protect it and the doctor. He’s the only one who might be able to stop this.”

  “Probably the one who started it as well.”

  “I don�
�t know, maybe. Either way, we need to keep him safe.”

  “I will begin adapting some items to help with that.”

  “Ok, look, I’m gonna call everyone and tell them to get down there if they can.”

  “Who is everyone?” A tenseness in his voice gave away his concern.

  “I know you’re a little skittish around a lot of people, Festus, but I’m just talking about the gang and a few family members, ok?”

  “It will be easier for me to get around and make things if you can stay somewhere else first and then bring everyone in when it is time to go. I might need a helper or two who know their way around tools, but if you can stay in your current place for a while with the rest, that would be great.”

  “We’ll try that first, but if we need to, we’re gonna have to come there.”

  “Ok, I guess if it is the end of the world, I can tolerate a few extra bodies around here. I will fire up the landline and the Ham in case the cell services go down.”

  “Thanks, dude.”

  “No problem. Make sure you give them all the numbers.”

  “Will do.”

  “How is Sarah coping with these new circumstances?”

  “She’s holding together. A bit freaked out, but all that self-defense crap and target lessons she was taking has paid off in spades.”

  “I believe that. If it was anything like the situation I ran into here, well, you really have to stay on your toes.”

  “Yeah. I’m glad I was half-wasted when it all started. I bashed a half a dozen with my car and shot a bunch in the head. It was disgusting, man. Brains and goo flying everywhere. But it was real; not like the movies at all.”

  “I did not know you even owned a gun.”

  “I don’t. Stole some M-16s from the police station.”

  “That is awesome. I am not condoning stealing guns from the police, you understand. I am just saying that under the circumstances, that is good thinking. Do you actually know how to use it?”

  “Sarah taught me a long time ago how to fire a bunch of different weapons. Never thought I’d be killing real people, though.”

  “Yes. Not what I expected it to be. And I am not sure how I feel about it yet.”

  “I think I’d still be puking if I weren’t so numb,” Trip admitted quietly.

  “I know what you mean. I will have to spend a half-hour scrubbing the blood out of my leathers. I was just sitting here with El Supremo trying to figure out how to explain this to the police. There is no need for that now, if what you are saying is true.”

  “It is.”

  “How soon can you get here? I have to know to look for you so I can open the doors. With those things out here, I do not want to have anything open for too long.”

  “We’re hiding right now and trying to make a few calls. My car is wasted. Scooter will be coming to get us from the Ren Fest. I’ll have to call you and touch base. I just wanted to make sure we can come. We’re probably going to need to go out and find people and bring them back to a secure location. Can you get us something rigged up for taking on masses of these things and bringing our friends home?”

  “I already have a few things here. And I have vehicles for you, since you said your car is wrecked. I will finish a few of the other small projects I have been working on. Maybe I can get them ready before you get here.”

  “Awesome, dude. You rock, man. Hope to see you soon.”

  “I will keep an ear on the radio.”

  “Watch your ass.”

  “I will be safe within my dungeon. Yours is the ass hanging out as bait. Be safe.”

  “Later, man.”

  “Later.”

  Both men hung up at the same time.

  “Scooter’s on his way to get us?” Sarah asked with decided skepticism.

  “Nope,” Trip replied sharply. “Can’t reach him. But I didn’t want Hef to worry. Besides, Scooter is coming to get us.”

  She cocked a dark eyebrow at him and he raised his hands in innocence.

  “Hey, I can’t help it if he doesn’t know it yet. But he is coming.”

  Of Knights, Armor and Friendship

  “Huzzah!” The watching crowd roared to the urging of the criers.

  Crisp and fresh, the morning breeze mingled with gentle hints of kettle corn, roasted almonds, smoked turkey legs and the scents of a hundred colognes and perfumes. With a resounding crash, the two great armored opponents came thundering together at full gallop, lances shattering on shields as their mighty steeds stumbled on the muddy pitch, nearly losing their balance, powerful legs recovering gracefully. Would that the combatants astride these epic beasts were as graceful.

  “Huzzah!” the crowd roared again as the two combatants careened into each other.

  For the third time the dueling warriors collided and three was not a charm, as neither man kept his balance. Both fell unceremoniously into the sloshy mud with loud splats that drew another roar of appreciation from the crowd. Six squires in chain mail and the colors of their masters rushed out to help their respective lords stand and pull swords from scabbards. The jousting finished, they would now set-to with blade and the last one standing would win the hand of the fair maiden. The lady in question wore a pink veil and sat impatiently beside the King and Queen, awaiting her fate, which would forever after be tied to whichever of her suitors won this competition…sort of. It wasn’t real. This wasn’t the first time Athena had been to a Renaissance Festival, but it was the first time she had come with a guy who took it so seriously. She just wanted to walk around and look at all of the arts and crafts, but he wanted to stop and watch every show.

  “C’mon, Scooter. I wanna go.”

  “Not now. This is the best part.”

  “It’s just a couple of failing actors in armor beating on each other with sticks.”

  “Your pardon, M’Lady, but yon combatants be noble knights engaged in feats of honor, jousting for the hand of a fair maiden in the name of the King and Queen. And those be not sticks, they be lances.”

  “You sound like a pirate, not a Renaissance man.”

  “Aaagh, M’Lady’s words have pierced mine chest as an arrow pierceth the hunted hare, quickly and without mercy. Oh powers that be, why hast thou stricken me with such a faithless and tiresome wench?”

  “Oh my god. Trip and Boomer weren’t kidding. You really get hard for this make-believe fantasy crap, don’t you?”

  “That’s redundant, babe.”

  “What is?”

  “Fantasy is make-believe. So to call it make-believe and then Fantasy crap is repeating yourself. You basically said it’s make-believe make-believe.”

  One dark eyebrow arched over an eye as black as her mood was likely to become if he continued this conversation.

  “Which would be nothing new in your case, I guess,” he jabbed with a smile and looked away as if that were the end of it. But of course, it wasn’t.

  “I think you’re missing the point,” she snapped archly to emphasize the emotion her eyebrow had apparently failed to convey.

  But Calvin “Scooter” Hobbes was nothing if not deliberately oblivious to a woman’s emotional ranges. “No, I think you’re missing the point, Miss Rosenthal. You should love this. You’re a hopeless romantic.”

  “Yes, Romance. Flowers and chocolate and pretty words and diamonds—”

  “—diamonds, yeah, that’s romantic.”

  “OK, maybe not. But you think all this is romantic? Two guys fighting over ownership of a woman as if she were property? No, I think I get it alright.”

  “That’s not what this is about. Don’t ruin the romance of it just because the rules of the time were different than they are now. The maiden is in love with two men. She needs a man and they need a woman. It’s about love. A love triangle. Two men in love with the same woman and she can’t make the choice. So she let’s them fight over her and the winner gets her heart. Two men enter, one man leaves…with her. Sometimes things weren’t that clear cut, but most of the ti
me it was that simple.”

  “You don’t know that it was like that.”

  “And you don’t know that it wasn’t.”

  “If they were real men, they’d wait for her to decide.”

  “Yeah, waiting for a woman to make a decision, that’s likely to save some time...” As she arched the other eyebrow, he changed tactics, but whether this was because his dull senses had actually detected danger or not is something that will never be known. “Most of the time the maiden is the one putting the decision up to a joust. And if they were real men, they’d have let her go a long time ago, babe. No need to fight for a woman who isn’t that into you.”

  “You don’t really believe that?” Her dark eyes widened in surprise.

  “I do.”

  “But what about all the trouble you went through to get me?”

  “Yeah, sure. Back then. But I’m not going to fight anyone for your heart now.”

  “How can you say that? You wouldn’t fight to protect me?”

  “That’s not the same thing, hon. I’d kill or die to protect you, but I’m not going to compete with some other guy over your affections again.”

  “Some people would say that’s what romance is.”

  Calvin snorted. “That’s just stupid. Maybe it is when you’re first getting to know someone.”

  “You don’t think people are always looking around for something better?” She knew that question was a mistake as soon as the words escaped her lips, and the flush to his cheeks only served to enforce that belief.

  “Maybe other people are. Maybe you are. But I’m not. Maybe that’s ok in the beginning of a relationship. But we’ve been together now for a few years and I show you every day how much I love you. If that’s not enough…if you still like kicking tires in the new car lot of romance, you’re welcome to hit the road any time you feel like it and find another ride. You’ve seen the best I’ve got and if that isn’t good enough, then we’re both better off thumbing for another ride.”

  “Hey, take it easy, Sweetie.” She put her arms around his shoulders and kissed him soundly. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. I didn’t know you’d take it so personally. I’m just kidding. Nice word play, by the way.”