Dead and Dead Again: Kansas City Quarantine

by Dalton Wolf

  Rufus looked him over again, examining his armor and weapons with an appreciative eye. “Does that stuff actually work?” he pointed at the chain mail.

  “It allows me to get in very close without worrying about a bite,” Calvin said proudly pulling out one of his axes and giving it a few warm-up swings. “And the axes do get the job done. It can get a bit messy, though. Pretty disgusting, actually. But my friend already had these shaped plastic face shields made for another purpose. They keep the goo out of our eyes and mouths.”

  “This mess does seem to be the business for old weapons,” Rufus noted.

  The Latina and the men behind Rufus began shuffling their weapons and their feet nervously, so Calvin handed the axe to Rufus so the old man could look it over. Brick bit back a response, but they could hear his displeasure in the annoyed sigh he blew dramatically. Rufus nodded his head after the inspection and handed the weapon back to Calvin, who quickly placed the axe back in its sheath and planted his fists firmly on his hips in his most unthreatening manner. Rufus rubbed his chin in deep contemplation. Eventually he waved the other men back to their watch positions, but leaned in closer, out of hearing of everyone else.

  “You got a Ham, Mr. Calvin?”

  “We don’t have any food on us, sir. But we can bring some through on our next pass if you need,” Calvin offered.

  The man laughed.

  “Thanks for the offer. We might take you up on it sometime in the future, but we’re stocked for now. I don’t mean food, Mr. Calvin. I’m talkin’ ‘bout communication. For emergencies like this.”

  “Radio?” Calvin asked.

  The man nodded.

  “Yes, we have a few. And some other com equipment.”

  “Here. Take this,” he handed Calvin a small square of ripped yellow legal pad.

  “I don’t know anything about the radio, really,” Calvin handed the paper back.

  “No, sir. Give it to your man. He’ll know what to do with it. Might pay to stay in touch…leastwise as long as we all still alive. Government seems to be blocking most signals, but we’ve reached a few on that frequency there. And maybe you could send us more information if you was to get any?”

  Calvin paused only a few seconds before nodding. “Good point. And we might need every hand we can get on a gun at some point. Or I might be able to send you some government men to talk to,” he grinned evilly.

  “Hah. You see any, you send ‘em my way, young Mr. Calvin.”

  Tripper called from his new spot in the passenger seat of the Hedgehog. He was feeling a little pissed off following Brick’s stupidity. “Hey Rufus! We’re going to be coming back through here in fifteen minutes or so from the other way, and maybe a few more times tomorrow. Any chance you might not shoot us next time?”

  The old man laughed a rough, raucous bellow.

  “We won’t make that mistake again,” he said loudly for the ears of the individuals in the vehicle and to the man with the rocket. “We don’t wanna waste no more ammo than we have to. I think we’ll remember your vehicles. We’ll make sure we got the right target next time.”

  “If we can, we’ll put a big red KC Arrowhead on the hood so you know it’s us in the future,” Trip called back.

  “Good enough. Good enough.”

  “You take care, Rufus,” Calvin shook his hand again.

  “Stay safe, Mr. Calvin. You take care of yours.”

  “We’ll be in touch.”

  “I’ll be waiting for word on how to get out of this mess,” the old man waved back.

  Calvin nodded and climbed into the back of the Hummer and noticed he was now sitting across from Brick. He looked to Tripper, who grinned from the passenger seat next to Felicia and still held his rifle trained at Brick, but lowered it as the vehicle began moving. The Infection had been going for only a half a day and already one of his people was beginning to crack. The heavy hand he had felt around his heart all day squeezed a little tighter. His friends seemed to be taking sides against one of their own and Calvin was no longer so sure they were wrong to do so.

  Word on how to get out of this mess…Hell, Rufus…I’ll be waiting for the same damn thing.

  They drove on, the Paddy Wagon moving up to within two car-lengths again at Calvin’s urging.

  The Plaza

  “Next block, guys,” Calvin advised his friends.

  “Shit!” Felicia hissed in surprise.

  Following a heavy bang several bodies rolled onto the hood and smashed into the flat windshield when she whipped around the corner. Swerving to avoid a crowd of Infected, the Hedgehog nearly tipped for the second time in the same hour as they rolled up over a stack of moving corpses and onto the hood of a burned out ‘79 corvette before she could get stopped.

  “Oops,” she apologized lamely.

  Gus stopped next to them and Scaggs looked over from the dark ambulance and gave her a ‘what the hell’ shake of her red head. Fe shrugged and grimaced in return. Gently putting the automatic into reverse, she backed down the hood of the vehicle and over the group of zombies that had stumbled in behind them, snapping legs and crushing bodies as they fell under the rugged wheels of the heavy custom vehicle. Fighting the urge to vomit yet again, she drove on past the burned-out classic sports car.

  “It’s just up there,” Tripper pointed. “That small fake tower thing.”

  “Hey, yeah. We were there yesterday,” Scaggs called out.

  “I wasn’t impressed,” Felicia scoffed. “I’m not a big coffee drinker.”

  “Of course not, you’re naturally wired,” her friend called back. “It was awesome.”

  The turrets opened up and soon there was a fifty foot radius around the vehicles, then one-hundred. Both vehicles initially pulled up in front of the coffee shop nearly bumper to bumper, but Gus whipped around and backed up to the coffee shop while Felicia turned the front of the Hedgehog towards the building, ready to cover the group going in, cover the streets, and still be able to pull out and follow The Wagon at a moment’s notice. Calvin noticed this and made a mental note to keep Felicia behind the wheel whenever possible. He stepped out of the back and brought an axe up into each hand with one simultaneous movement.

  “Welcome to The Country Club Plaza.” He announced casually.

  “Is it still called that?” Tripper asked.

  “I think so.”

  “I always just call it the Plaza.”

  “Me too,” Gus added.

  “Isn’t it the Barney Allis Plaza?” Joel asked.

  “That’s another place, at 12th and Wyandotte,” Calvin explained. “This is the Country Club Plaza.”

  “Does it really matter what—”

  “—there they are!” he heard Lola scream from somewhere above.

  Calvin’s helm was open because of the 100 foot perimeter, so the girls could see his round face beaming from within its depths. He didn’t have to search because Lola’s pink torso hung halfway out of a window up in the tower-thing that signified the beginning of The Plaza. He’d always felt there should be bells up there. Maybe there were and they’d just never used them. He didn’t know.

  “Calvin!” she shouted down, waving furiously.

  Calvin waved up to her with a broad grin. “Don’t go anywhere!” he shouted. “We’ll come and get you after we clear the area!”

  “What?” she screamed down. “Nevermind. I’m coming!”

  “No!” Calvin yelled back, but she was already gone from the window.

  “Shit.” He and Trip said at the same time.

  Trip sat closest to the building, but by the time he was out of the car Calvin was already beside him, both dashing towards the double glass doors of the coffee shop. Surprisingly, Brick was only a half-step behind, in dark leather armor with a big claymore-like two-handed sword clutched in both well-tanned hands. Following a brief pause and quicker prayers, the group burst through the doors with one light kick that threw Tripper completely off-balance. The double doors opened inward and hadn’t
been firmly shut, so his kick blasted the doors with ten times more power than was necessary. Brick half-screamed, half-yelled and swung his big sword over-handed into the nearest of a dozen zombies on the right. The big sword slammed down through the skull of the six-foot ex-chiefs fan, ripping it in half down to the lower torso. Blood, brain and guts spilled onto the floor, but Brick didn’t have time to think about it as a fat black woman hissed and leaped at him before he could take a breath.

  Maybe Trip pointing the gun at him did some good after all, Calvin’s mind wondered in the split second before he and Trip dove at a group of very lively zombies.

  “Calvin!” Trip shouted as he swung his trusty baseball bat defensively at two of the Infected. The first one ducked and put its arm up almost as a real opponent would. “They’re fast ones! Swifties.”

  “I know!” Calvin replied. “Mine too.” After the first of his targets had jumped back from his axe, he had quickly adjusted his tactics for live people and altered his swings accordingly, dispatching both of his own attackers with simultaneous downward thrusts that ended at the neck. In two short breaths he was already beheading one of Tripper’s and a quick chop split the skull of another one lunging for Tripper’s back. With a shared sigh of relief, the pair ran for two growling Swifties that were darting for Brick’s back. Calvin almost pulled Tripper up short, but decided against it. Brick deserved a fair evaluation. All he had for now was a lot of hearsay and a bad attitude. He couldn’t blame anyone for being a little aggravated. And these things probably weren’t dangerous enough to kill even the out-of-it Brick; they would be little danger to the Claymore wielding warrior they were seeing now.

  “They might move a bit faster,” he said to Trip as he tossed an axe into the back of an old dead man’s skull. “But they’re still not real bright,” he finished as the body hit the floor with a meaty thump.

  Brick turned to them and grinned a wicked, half-frenzied ‘Joker’ face. “This isn’t so bad after all!” he laughed with glee.

  “Calvin!” Lola screamed, also with glee.

  She waved at them from the back door and started to run to them, but stopped, losing at least half of her joy at seeing Brick standing with them grinning like a madman. Then she screamed as a body jumped from the floor and sprang at her. She only had time to grasp its arms in her own before it was on her like a bad date, forcing her down, invading her personal space with gnashing jaws and hungry eyes.

  Calvin had a perfect under-handed angle and let fly. His other axe chunked into its skull and the entire body was forcibly thrown from her and into the wall, the axe pinning the zombie to the sheetrock, leaving the body to dangle limply, jerking occasionally as whatever passed for kinetic energy drained from the re-corpsifying body.

  Lola fell back onto the floor, relieved. But then there was Brick’s smiling face—in her mind, a sick, perverted devil’s mask of hate hovering over her, ready to take her soul. She screamed again and her eyes rolled back into her head trying to escape the terror of the situation.

  Calvin pulled his first thrown axe from the zombie on the floor as Brick tossed him the other one. He caught it smoothly and walked to the back of the shop and paused at the back door, hand on handle. “You got her?” he yelled to Brick over the sound of some guitar-heavy Indie Pop pouring out of some unseen speakers

  How did we not even notice that? He wondered.

  “I got her,” Brick spat back.

  They still had to save Lucy. Calvin nodded for Trip to check behind the connecting door to the neighboring shop before dashing through the door and into the long back hallway that serviced the entire business strip.

  After Tripper disappeared through the other door, Brick leaned down and began whispering to the nearly-comatose Lola. Eventually her eyes shot open again and grew wide with fear and revulsion, but he held her tightly in his strong arms and held her eyes with his own fevered gaze. He whispered some more and she screamed again and kicked again and again. Eventually she somehow managed to wriggle free from his vice-like grip and run for the back door, screaming for Calvin. Sapphire eyes blazing, Brick gripped his sword in both hands and estimated the range and power he’d need to bury it in her back, but at that moment the far door opened and Trip re-entered the shop.

  Though he wasn’t looking in their direction, Brick couldn’t chance getting caught doing something like that just yet. Maybe if he were to get to her body first, he could cut her and say she’d been bitten or something, but he didn’t have time for a cover-up. He slowly rose and calmly walked after the fleeing woman.

  “Lola! Come back!” he called innocently.

  Calvin half-jogged down the empty off-white brick hallway. The Service Hallway ran behind and behind all of the businesses in the strip. Every business had a blue access door that opened into the hallway. He progressed slowly, checking doors as he went to ensure they were locked or at least closed firmly and that he couldn’t hear live people behind them. He reached the steel fence holding the door to the locked tower and found it open. Shit. Lola didn’t make sure it shut right. Dark, coagulated bloody hand prints marked the rail at regular intervals all the way up and two smears of fresh blood marked the wall at the top. Zombies that use the rails? he wondered.

  Bolting up the stairs two at a time, he reached the top step with a grunt of success that was drowned-out by a long, piercing, blood-curdling scream that made the invisible hand on his heart release and drop down to squeeze his bladder.

  He had seen many horror movies with Lucy and knew that scream better than any other. It had long been a joke among the group that she should be a star in horror movies, or at least lend her voice for the screams. “Hang on, Lucy!” he screamed back.

  “Calvin!” she let out another award winning wail.

  “Lucy!” he yelled and charged into the little observation room with both axes at the ready, only to find the pretty young Asian standing over a dead stalker, one dainty fist holding a five inch heel dripping with gore, exotic almond eyes flashing a strength Scooter had never seen before.

  “My hero,” she grumbled dryly, dropping the bloody heel in disgust.

  “Hey, I was coming to save you…but it looks like you got it.”

  “Where’s Lola?” she asked with a scowl of concern.

  “She’s with Brick.”

  “Oh no.” she hissed, hobbled past Calvin on her one good heal.

  “Calvin!” Lola screamed, desperately searching for the only man who’d ever been good to her. She would tell him about everything. She would tell him about his supposed friend and how sorry she was and he would fix everything. She ran through the back halls of the little business plaza to the stairs leading up into the tower.

  “Calvin!” Lola screamed. But no one came out from any of the doors on the way to the stairs. She looked up through the fenced-in stairway, but no one came. No. she thought. He would already be coming down with Lucy if he went up there. He must have gone further down this hall to make sure it’s safe. A sound drew her eyes to a door to one of the other businesses just past the iron stairs. It sounded like someone said her name.

  Ah, there he is. She rushed over with a beaming smile, gleefully grabbed the handle and happily pulled the door open. “Calvin, I have to tell you—” she started to say.

  Calvin called from above through the steel fence that closed in the stairs, Lucy at his side. “—Lola, no!” he tried to reach down the twenty or so stairs through the safety fence with his mind.

  Time slowed to a crawl as the half-open door ripped from her grasp and the Swiftie inside leaped onto her upper torso, slamming her into the far wall. Before Calvin or the approaching Brick could make a move, the growling beast was digging its fingers into her shoulders and sinking its teeth into her neck, ripping a huge chunk of flesh, swallowing without chewing, and taking another bite and then another. Lola screamed for help as a crimson spray of her own blood painted the far wall.

  Lucy screamed from the top of the stairs and dropped to her knees as Calv
in charged past and descended the stairs two at a time.

  “Lola!” Calvin and Lucy screamed together.

  “Oh God!” Lola held a hand up to where Lucy sat screaming, her mind begging for this not to be happening.

  “Calvin!” she called just as his axe and Brick’s sword met in the middle of the feeding creature’s skull with a muted clang.

  The fingers of another Swiftie gripped the door, holding it open, and Brick darted after it with wide swings of the massive sword, forcing it back into the shadows from which it attacked. Calvin caught Lola’s weakening body as it slid down the wall, leaving behind a trail of smeared crimson that painted a morbid impression of some half-finished Surrealist’s canvas. Blood pumped between his armored fingers from a punctured artery even as he fought to find a pressure point to stop it, knowing it was already too late.

  “Calvin. I need to…to…tell you something,” she gurgled. Having lost an incredible amount of blood in so little time, she was already fading out. “…so sorry…”she gurgled quietly.

  Calvin held her, visor up, watering eyes holding her own.

  “He’s…not…what you think,” she whispered.

  “Who isn’t?” he asked.

  “I have to tell you, Calvin.” she looked up and drifted off.

  Brick was standing over them. She looked scared for a minute, but then her eyes found Calvin and suddenly she lit with some inner strength. “You have to know what he did…oh no…” she took a big racking breath and the strength faded away. She looked on Calvin with an adoring, serene, almost motherly expression. “I always loved you Calvin,” she whispered and closed her eyes.

  He didn’t have to check for a pulse, but he did. “She’s dead,” he breathed quietly. Before he could process her death, Brick’s sword was shooting before his eyes, through her skull and into the wall behind with a thick sounding butcher’s chunk. “What the fuck, man!” Scooter screamed and jumped back, brandishing one of his axes.