Dead and Dead Again: Kansas City Quarantine

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Dead and Dead Again: Kansas City Quarantine Page 18

by Dalton Wolf


  “Whatever,” Calvin muttered after an annoyed sigh. “We’ll climb that wall when we come to it. We’re heading out. You want to come lock up after us?”

  As the group left, Trip turned back to the doctor.

  “Don’t answer for strangers, dear,” he said, reaching out and adjusting the doctor’s dress shirt under his lab coat. “And the milkman can just leave the milk outside from now on,” he answered in his best wife imitation, which was surprisingly good.

  The others headed to the vehicle. When they were loaded, Calvin and Tripper waved to the man as he grabbed the gate and swung it shut. The few scattered zombies in the area were currently shuffling down the side alley after some pieces of office equipment Gus and Joel had thrown out a window on that side to get their attention.

  “Ok,” Calvin announced after buckling up. “Let’s roll.”

  He sat in the front passenger seat, which the others had chosen to leave open. Quinn said nothing. He started the engine and drove in the direction Calvin pointed, north towards the bridge over the river. The same bridge down which the car dragging the silver case had driven earlier. Calvin directed them down a few side streets east and west as they went, looking for the red car and the case as they continued north until it was time to turn east towards Hef’s place. They found nothing. Calvin decided not to radio this news to the doctor just yet.

  Into the Northland

  “He calls it The Dungeon,” Gus explained to the two new girls.

  “That’s weird,” Felicia said, holding back a shiver. “Sounds like a lunatic.”

  “No. He’s not. Dungeons were not always prisons and torture chambers. In fact, most dungeons were used for entirely different reasons—castle vault, armory, wine cellar, castle workshop, other storage. I mean, they also had a cell, but it was much smaller.”

  “Get on with it!” Athena and Scooter shouted together.

  “Right. See, that’s where the scientists supposedly did their research in the renaissance days. Hef says so anyway. In towers or dungeons—the one used to be the other. First the offices were downstairs, until hostage-taking became common and then the towers became the workshops. And…but…” he paused at a warning glare from Calvin. “We all spent our younger days playing Dungeons and Dragons together and he was the Dungeon Master. He’d map out the dungeons or towns or whatever for our quest, and then build them for our adventures. He’s got hundreds of dungeons in there. And he’s kind of a mad scientist type. So…it kind of fits.”

  “Score!” Scaggs shrieked. “You can’t throw a 1st edition Monster Manual around here without smackin’ a geek on the ass.”

  “Did we pick the best people to be at the end of the world with, or what?” Felicia agreed merrily and the two exploding-high-fived and ‘danced’ in place.

  “Oh, definitely.”

  Alright. Keep your eyes open, everyone,” Scooter cautioned them. “We don’t want to blink and suddenly find ourselves in the middle of a pack of these…things.”

  “I doubt we’d have to worry about it, dude,” Scaggs brushed his warning off.

  “I mean, we’re wearing armor and they move slightly faster than a herd of turtles in a sea of peanut butter.”

  “Don’t get cocky. We don’t know that they’re all like that,” Calvin insisted. “According to Trip and Sarah, the ones they first saw moved faster. And we’ve seen a few that moved almost like real people. We don’t yet understand their capabilities or limitations. Maybe there are different types, or maybe they move faster after some conditions are met, like feeding or resting. Maybe there are strong ones, maybe there are live ones. Maybe they all die again after a few days. I don’t know everything and neither do you, but people have been dying around us all morning and I’ll bet many of them didn’t believe they had much to fear from these slow-moving creatures. So let’s just be careful and maybe live another day.”

  Scaggs looked suitably chagrined.

  “I don’t know about you,” Calvin continued calmly, holding her eyes firmly with his own. “But I’d rather find those things out on my own terms, not on theirs. Let’s just be careful out there. That’s all I’m saying.”

  She nodded again and sat up, eyes bright and more alert.

  Calvin needn’t have worried, however. The route was empty. Either all Infected had moved on, or very few had made it this far yet. Probably the former.

  “It’s over behind that group of other businesses,” Trip said from a seat in the back.

  “You sure you can find it? There must be a hundred businesses in there.”

  “It’s there. Trust me. It’s a big blue building. You can’t miss it. We come here every Wednesday and Saturday night.”

  Quinn opened his window and breathed the river in deeply, preferring the fragrant fishy smell to the caustic stench of dead flesh any day of the week. Slowly advancing, everyone kept an eye out for any dead on the side-streets.

  “Good. We’re good so far. Keep going,” Scooter muttered. “Now down tenth to Bed-something.”

  “I thought you said you know your way around here,” the Armorer complained.

  “I know where it is. I just don’t know what all of the streets are called,” Calvin argued. “It’s this one here…ok, now keep going for a few blocks…now right...and left here…there it is, up ahead. It’s that tall one in the center there. See, he put it where it wouldn’t stand out.”

  A massive, aging blue steel exterior loomed over the other buildings. It was the largest building in the area by a factor of ten. But it wasn’t so much tall as it was long and wide. They had been looking at it for blocks, but he was right, the four-block-long rusty blue building somehow did not stand out with the other buildings surrounding it, each looking so much newer and full of purpose. Not one of them had thought that aging warehouse was the building they were going to. Somehow they had not even noticed it until it was pointed out. Calvin and the others had intentionally kept quiet to test Hef’s theory. So far 100 percent of the people looking for the building had failed to notice the large structure until it was pointed out to them.

  “He put it here?” Scaggs asked. “How old is this guy?”

  “Our age.”

  “But, this place is a dump. It’s clearly been here forever. It’s ancient.”

  “Only on the outside,” Scooter shot her a knowing wink.

  “What? I don’t know what that means.”

  “It’s disguised,” Joel told her.

  “You’ll see,” Gus promised her with a squeeze of her hand.

  Calvin clicked the radio twice.

  “We’re here, Hephaestus,” he said into the mic.

  “What is the password?” Came the response.

  “Open the fucking door.”

  “Correct. Open Sez-a-me.”

  A thick, gray steel door on the side of the rustic, but enormous old building began to roll noiselessly into a wall allowing them entrance into a twenty-five by twenty-five foot room with shelves of tools and equipment lining all four walls. The big door quickly and silently rolled back into place behind them. When it completely closed, an inner door rolled back in the same manner, much like the outer and inner doors of an airlock.

  “Nice,” Scaggs said appreciatively as Quinn slowly pulled them into a workroom that looked like the love-child of the bridge of the Enterprise and an IT control center.

  “The above ground space is at least forty thousand square feet,” Tripper informed Quinn and the girls. “I don’t even want to know what he had to go through to put a basement in this place, considering he’s right next to a river. But there is one.”

  “Look over there,” he pointed across the workroom. “That steel door over there will take you to the kitchen, dining room and if you continue on through there, the entertainment room.”

  “Rooms are upstairs there, or accessible through several other sets of stairs within the various buildings.” A set of metal stairs hanging by heavy wire rope from the steel girders above ran up the wall next
to the door and met a walkway that ran the length of the far wall over the steel door Trip had just pointed to.

  “What’s that?” Felicia screamed, pointing to something in front of the vehicle.

  Everyone turned to see a six-foot man-thing clad in closed-helm black armor pointing a large black crossbow at them. On further study the crossbow was, in fact, two crossbows somehow fastened back to back, or top to bottom, so one flip would bring the opposite crossbow up for use. The multi-strung bow seemed to be made out of some composite materials, maybe a high grade of hardened plastic, with silver metal fasteners at various joints holding it together. Extending from the top, and hanging from the bottom crossbow were what looked like hardcover book-shaped canisters.

  “What are those metal things on the bow?” Athena wondered.

  “They look like magazine clips,” Trip answered.

  “Dual automatic crossbow?” Scooter asked, raising an eyebrow at the others sitting behind him.

  “Impressive,” Tripper whistled.

  The figure turned and pointed the bow at a target, firing once, spinning the contraption, firing the other side, then spinning again and putting a third bolt into the red, Orc-shaped target, then a forth and fifth. The bolts slammed deep into the leather and wood target in rapid succession, sending chunks flying. He fired one more into a head made from painted Ballistics Gel, the bolt slowing dramatically inside the gelatinous goo, but still passing through to chunk into the specially designed cushions behind the test targets. The armored being then turned the weapon on the vehicle again.

  “That is Hephaestus, isn’t it?” Athena asked uncertainly.

  “I think so,” Scooter replied with uncharacteristic hesitation.

  “Who wants to go out and ask?” Tripper asked.

  Everyone looked at Scooter.

  “Right. See you on the other side,” he muttered, stepping out.

  The Toy Master

  Scooter exited the Ambulance and pulled the face shield of his helm up, a shower of sweat drizzled onto his bluish armor, running down to eventually be sucked into the leather overcoat he now wore over the armor.

  “Hephaestus?” he asked, worry etching his friendly, lightly-tanned face.

  The tip of the heavy black automatic crossbow was pointed right at Scooter’s head as the black-clad being stepped closer and stuck its face-shield into his face from nearly a foot higher.

  “So, Calvin. What is new in your life?” the man asked casually, taking off his face-shield and smiling with a mouth of perfectly straight glowing white teeth and the easy demeanor of one who hadn’t recently slaughtered a half-dozen already dead people. With one smooth motion, he reached one arm up and removed the helm. Calvin motioned the others to exit the vehicle and Hephaestus unfastened four quick-connect clamps and the armor fell away with a heavy clang to rest on the floor.

  “Oh my,” Felicia breathed heavily, much louder than she meant to.

  Both Scaggs and Felicia blushed before the shear manliness of Hephaestus. Olive-skinned and well-tanned, he stood at six-foot-three with a face God could have carved from a diamond it was so timeless and beautiful. The bare parts of his skin that showed through his blue coveralls were tan, smooth and taught. He examined them with dark, intense eyes that peered from the depths of a shadowy brow topped with long, raven-black, straight hair tightly pulled back into a pony-tail. A few hairs hanging down in front of his face made both girls want to reach out and brush them back, hoping they would flop forward again so they could brush them back again.

  The epitome of the proverbial ‘Tall, Dark and Handsome’, Felicia was thinking more along the lines of ‘god’. This shock-factor was normal when nearly any women met Hephaestus for the first time, so the rest of the group, with the exception of perhaps Gus and Joel, enjoyed watching the girls blush and stutter their greetings one at a time after Scooter introduced them.

  “This is Hephaestus Antonopoulos,” he said, then pointed at Felicia, who bowed her brightly colored head and practically curtsied, suddenly unsure where her hands were supposed to be. “This is Felicia Sackoff. She’s an actress.”

  “Yes, I know. I have seen her in numerous shows and a few movies,” Hef said cheerily and held out his hand. “You are one of my favorite new actresses,” he added in a slightly stilted deep, but smooth and silky voice that almost purred.

  Felicia shivered. “Really?” she squealed like a schoolgirl when he took her hand. “No, well. I mean, I’ve done some small parts in—well, I was in some of the bigger movies—But no, it was nothing really. Just trying to be a working actress. Oh my god, is it hot in here?” she fanned her face a few times with a shaky palm, while still shaking the big man’s hand with the other.

  Scooter pried her hand from Hephaestus’ and turned his mildly entertained gaze from Felicia to Joanne. “And this is Joanne Scagliotti. We’ve been calling her Scaggs.”

  “Aren’t the Gees silent?” Hephaestus asked.

  “Yes, we know that. Gus thought it would be cool to make fun of how everyone always gets the silent gees wrong.”

  “Yes, names are odd like that,” Hef nodded.

  “Names!” Scaggs blurted, before taking his hand to shake it. “Antonopoulos. Is that Greek? That’s Greek, isn’t it?” She asked in a rush.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “OMG, so you’re, like, literally a Greek God,” she gushed as Felicia giggled.

  “No. I am just a man,” Hef answered modestly.

  “I mean, because Hephaestus was the Greek god of blacksmiths and other craftsmen. So his name is Greek, and it’s the name of a god. And you’re kind of a blacksmith. And you’re a god. I mean, you’re gorgeous, I mean, oh my god, you are extremely good-looking.” She looked to the others and pointed at him. “So, in all ways he’s a Greek God—oh, I’m so fracking sorry…boyfriend,” she snapped at the end, jerking her hands back from his body as if his skin had actually burned her.

  “What?” Hef asked in confusion, looking from her to Gus.

  She grabbed Gus’ left arm with both of her hands and repeated herself, pointing to Gus with one finger. “Boyfriend,” she repeated quietly. “I have a boyfriend,” she blushed and held on tighter. “This,” tap, tap, tap, she slapped his shoulder. “This is my boyfriend.”

  “And this is mine,” Felicia pointed to Joel, who raised one eyebrow in his cheesiest not-sexy-at-all sexy pose and the most impish of grins he used to funny-sexy the babes, which might explain why he was single up to then. Felicia was a bit surprised that he wasn’t angrier about her drooling over this Adonis, but she suddenly felt they all knew something she didn’t.

  Oh no. He’s not gay is he? She wondered. Doesn’t matter. This is my boyfriend. Oh damn. This is my boyfriend? What was I thinking? I could have just waited a few hours and had that boyfriend. Shut up, Felicia. That god is way out of your league and gay to boot. Joel is your boyfriend, so deal with it. “My boyfriend,” she repeated.

  “That is…nice,” Hephaestus said hesitantly, looking between Joel and Gus, giving each a significant, but brief glare that expressed his dissatisfaction with the way they had handled something they all had discussed numerous times before.

  “Anyway,” he continued, glaring at his friends as they continued to watch the two temporarily besotted girls with knowing looks and grins. “I am glad you made it, Calvin.” He held out both hands and put them on Scooter’s shoulders, slapping them a few times. “I was worried.”

  “Are you ok, Hephaestus?” Scooter asked.

  “Of course. Why would I not be?”

  “You’re a pacifist, for one thing,” Scooter noted calmly.

  “I fail to see how that applies to our current situation.”

  “But, you’re always preaching about how wrong it is to kill any living thing.”

  “And I stand by everything I have said on the subject.”

  “But you’re ok with killing a half-dozen people?

  “I am ok with what I have done.”

  “C’
mon, Hephaestus, you don’t just get over that overnight.”

  “I smelled them when they were close…their breath, their skin. It reeked of dead things. Those creatures are not alive, Calvin. One of them was a friend. I saw him not six hours ago. And now he stinks of a week spent in a pine box under ground. They have rotted in an incredible amount of time. They are not natural and they are not living. They are dead. The Undead. The walking dead. Zombies. Whatever you wish to call them…they are no longer people. And though I just called them that, I do not consider them as creatures, either. They are abominations of nature and must be destroyed.”

  “We’re hoping there’s a cure,” Calvin suggested.

  “If we can cure them, then I am ok with that. If there is a way to bring them back to normal. But I do not believe this to be possible. For now I will destroy any I come into contact with. And you should as well.”

  “Fair enough,” Scooter agreed. “And speaking of these things, we have to go out and get Lucy and Lola and Brick and Boomer. There are a lot of them out there. Did you come up with anything that might help?”

  Hephaestus feigned an indignant expression.

  “Sorry. I’m sure you did. Can we see it?”

  “Did I get you kids anything for Christmas, you ask? Did Uncle Fester bring you anything from his trip to Transylvania, you wonder, feet dancing in place and fingers eager to rip wrapping paper and—”

  “—yes, yes. Please Master Builder,” Tripper interrupted his dance. “Show us your toys. We want to go play with them, already.”

  “Ah, I know who always snuck downstairs to peek at his presents on Christmas morning,” Hephaestus pointed at Trip. “You should practice patience, Tripper.” But at an annoyed sigh from his friend, he relented. “They are in the garage,” he motioned with a mischievous grin.

  “How come I’ve never seen the garage?” Athena asked.

  “Or me,” Sarah added.

 

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