Two bikers on the same motorcycle were rolling around the van, which had its roof window closed, now. They were both playing with the mob of living dead, a dangerous game. One of them was driving while his comrade, sitting behind him, was letting a beheaded chicken bleed, hanging it by its legs. He was making a red path on the dirt, which attracted the creatures. The two bikers, swiftly, avoided being grabbed by the zombies. More than anything, they did what they could to avoid falling, knowing it would mean their death. They went away, followed by the creatures excited by the blood, and they all disappeared out of the view of the group led by Vlad.
"Go forward,” he yelled, and saying that he raised a leg and kicked Johnny's back. The hit almost made him fall against the luxurious van's closed door, but he was able to recover his balance.
The young colored man responded to pain by turning swiftly around and intercepting Vlad’s leg, almost making him fall and lose his gun. Other weapons handled by his men pressed on Johnny's temple and flanks, menacing to shoot.
"Continue, make me fall completely, I’d love to shoot you," the hit men’s chief yelled mockingly. Gritting his teeth, he remained in a delicate equilibrium, threatening to fall whenever his leg would be pushed upwards.
The young man looked at him with hatred and lowered the man's leg before freeing it, letting him correct his balance.
"Good, good, you understand quickly, bright boy," Vlad said, clearly amused, as he continued menacing him too with his gun. Aiming it at Johnny’s forefront, he slapped him noisily.
No reaction came from the young colored man.
Another slap.
Same thing, nothing. The laughter of all the hit men erupted.
A more violent slap was given to Johnny by Vlad, who was ready to provoke a bad reflex.
The young man remained stoic despite the ever louder laughs, finally looking at the hit man with hatred. He finally showed an attitude of cold impassivity, the same one as his Sensei.
Vlad goggled at him, and hissed, "Lower your eyes, sonofabitch," but the colored young man remained impassive, looking him directly in the eyes.
The hit man suddenly slapped Bo, who was surprised, before looking quickly at him with hatred. This pleased Vlad who murmured, “Who is going to be shot first?" and saying that, he pressed the barrel of his gun on the center of Johnny's forehead.
His index finger began to slowly increase its pressure on the trigger.
"Stop!"
The recognizable voice had startled him so much that he had almost unloaded his gun, but luckily, he had controlled himself. Manifestly thwarted, Vlad looked in the direction from where the voice had come. They all heard, coming from a loudspeaker on the roof of the truck, "Bring them to me, they have more value alive than dead… at least for the moment."
"Did you hear, morons?" said Vlad, nodding in the direction of the truck. A door on its side slid while a sound of whirling electric motors was heard, showing that it was not moved manually. Another black leather-dressed man appeared, and, enlightened by the diffuse light that reigned inside, Johnny and Bo recognized him as Vlad's colleague. He was almost as bald and bearded as him, but taller, and blond. A machine-gun at his side, he motioned for them with a wave of a hand to enter. The duo moved forward, pushed by Vlad, and got into the vehicle, the light of which dazzled them, a deafening cackle hurting their ears.
On their right-hand side, as their eyes slowly became accustomed to the interior brightness, they saw a ladder, which gave access to the roof window, above. At the foot of this ladder, two men in black uniforms were crouched in front of a set of cages, in which one could discern dozens of chickens, all cackling noisily.
These cackles redoubled and became deafening, when the two henchmen began to seize chickens in two of the cages. They were obviously preparing to continue the "distribution," and the poor animals, having heard their predecessors, seemingly guessed their fate. Their thighs firmly held in the mens' hands, they fussed, moving in all directions, beating wings and raising feathers in the air. One of the men sneezed then, wiping his nose with his sleeve, and swore. He then stood up and started to climb the ladder. The noise and, above all, the smell in the back of the vehicle caused Bo and Johnny to grimace in disgust.
A light but real knock on the back of their skulls made them both groan and, turning around, they saw that it was Vlad who had beaten them with the butt of his gun. He pointed it toward the other side of the vehicle, and said mockingly, "It's on the other side, clowns."
Johnny's eyes became as furious as those of his friend Bo, who rubbed his head, but the first immediately buried his emotions... not without having widened the evil smile of the henchman, glad to have been able to make the colored man lose his impassivity, for even one second.
Without saying a word, the two prisoners fumed as they walked towards the front of the vehicle, stopping in front of a metallic separation wall. Two closed doors were on the left and right of the wall, each surrounded by a bright, red border, made of neon lights.
Vlad advanced towards one of the doors while the men who had accompanied him surveyed the prisoners. He then bent and placed his right eye in front of a sort of camera, on the left side of the door. The camera projected very briefly a bluish horizontal flash, which swept the eye of the henchman from the upper eyelid to the lower.
The flash dazzled his eye and caused him to close his eyes for a brief moment, and a picture of the back of his eye appeared on a nearby small screen, with its complex network of veinlets, an image as unique as a fingerprint.
A melodious beep sounded in their ears, and the color of the outline of the door went from red to orange, then, a second after, to red, while a click was heard. A hissing was heard and then the door slid to the side, leaving the passage to Vlad, who was followed by the two prisoners, always held in check by his men.
When Vlad, Johnny, Bo, and the guards had passed the door, it quickly closed behind them, but none of the prisoners paid any attention to it. Their attention was too much drawn to what they discovered, open-mouthed, around them.
"My God, this is Paradise!" exclaimed Bo, ecstatic as he admired the office into which they had just entered, with paintings of Masters hanging on the walls, mixed with various surveillance screens, which broadcast external shots. These attracted, and even magnetized the attention of the two men. One of the cameras showed, in particular, zombies that approached the truck again. Obviously interested in something, the creatures seemed to look up towards the camera.
Arms and hands appeared in the field of the camera, in addition to flapping wings that blocked the view from time to time, among feathers floating in the air. Hands and arms swung new chickens on the undead, which were fighting to catch them.
Bo watched a chicken being torn from the hands of one creature by another, who separated the animal's head from its body with a single bite at the neck. Disgusted, he saw the head fall at the feet of the zombies, one of which fell on its knees and gobbled the whole head. Its jaws could not be heard munching, since the surveillance camera did not seem to have a microphone but given the mixture of blood and flesh that flowed from the creature's open mouth, it was clear that it found the meal very crunchy.
"The laws of Nature are indeed cruel, but they are so for a good reason: it is the law of the strongest."
The recognizable voice made the two young men turn around, and they saw Adams sitting behind a magnificent mahogany desk. He motioned in the direction of two seats in front of him, and, bantering, said with a sneer, "I beg you, gentlemen, sit down."
Bo began to move forward towards one of the seats but he stopped on station, emitting a small complaint of pain.
He had just received a little elbow to his ribs from his friend who remained immobile, scowling at him.
The young man of color then looked at the old Administrator defiantly. This provoked a cold and dull, fulminating anger in the latter, and as the young black man and the old politician looked at each other, Bo told himself that all this did no
t tell him anything worthwhile.
Adams laid his cold eyes, like those of a reptile, on the blond young man, and said with a mocking tone, "So, always obeying and following your friend Johnny like a little dog, huh? No more will than that of an invertebrate? "
This sentence caused Bo to turn toward the old man, red with anger, and say, "Get lost, old fossil!"
Adams snorted with contempt and replied, "I had hoped that at least you knew how to behave," and at that, he made a sign with his hand to Vlad, who noisily slapped the young man.
The latter was on the verge of falling and was caught up just in time by Johnny, who kept him standing firmly. The old man in white costume had a smile as great as his favorite hand-man had, and added, "Stand still, and all will go well."
Johnny gave him a look of hatred, and then he and Bo looked into each other's eyes nervously. They had both realized that they would never be allowed to come back alive to the Community!
***
Red was in total darkness, eyes closed. She felt as though her body was floating, and even, at times, no longer felt it at all.
No more sensation... A total release of her worries...
And these impressions disturbed her nevertheless... as also began to disturb her a grave, and gentle voice, at the same time, coming to her from afar. Very far, across time and space...
The voice of her father...
"Honey, you have to get up. You do not give up, you cling to life."
She returned in herself, as if she wanted to hide under the sheets of a virtual bed, imaginary, trying to stay warm, motionless, passive...
"Come on, take your courage, stand up, Red," said a more serious voice, as loud as thunder.
She felt her body again, in all its discomfort, and even began to feel pain, here and there. She wanted to deny reality, but she felt that reality would leave her no choice.
And when this reality corresponded to the imposing and palpable presence of Harry Jackson, no one could remain indifferent...
Red opened her eyes and then saw the face of the good man of color, who looked at her, smiling, and said, "At last she comes out of limbo!"
"Red…"
This voice, Hiroto's voice, made her jump, even though she did not recognize in its tone the old man’s usual strength and authority. Opening her large green eyes, she could not help rubbing them with her hands, for it was as if they were both sticky and full of sand. She turned her head and saw her grandfather, lying on the seat-bed on which she had put him, also in the same horizontal position as her. He smiled and asked, "Are you OK, Red?"
"I would prefer to know how you are... I'm glad to see that you feel good," she added, smiling.
"You should never have given so much blood, you could have died by emptying yourself, during the transfusion!" murmured the old man, with an air of reproach in his attitude as he looked at her.
"He's right, it was foolish," Harry said, looking stern. "Transfusing someone like that, unattended by a doctor, is a crazy idea!"
"It's the crazy side of some Universal blood donors like me," said the young redhead while smiling shyly, to which her Master bluntly replied, "Only major donors are allowed, normally!"
Red closed in upon herself, at the same time relieved to see him alive, and disappointed not to be thanked for her effort to save him. The old Japanese breathed a deep breath and looked away, obviously angry.
The silence was established between the two in the passenger compartment for several minutes, silence which was interrupted twice by beeps. As Harry approached them, embarrassed, looking softer, he murmured, "The bottom line is that you feel better, both of you, and that you both take back strength!"
And that's when he gave them both a microwaveable dinner tray, which had just been heated by the microwave oven, which occupied a small place on a table protruding from the inner wall, near the passenger seats.
The girl devoured the meal offered, drinking a lot of water, thanking Harry for this meal, thanking also the fact that the oven could be fueled by the powerful lithium battery of the hybrid van.
Hiroto ate more slowly than she did, but ended up eating enough to say, "Well, we're going to be able to get down to business, Harry. We need to get your son and his friend Boris out."
"I will rescue them... you’re far too weak!"
"You’re wrong, I feel better," and saying this, the old man suddenly sat down. It was then that his face became white. He collapsed on his back, luckily on the soft couch, sinking into unconsciousness.
"That’s what I said," Harry murmured, heading for the sliding door.
"Harry," Red yelled. "Where are you going? You want to fight them all alone?"
"Why not?" the good giant replied. "After all I've gone through and suffered, I trust that I can... but you... you stay here!"
With that, he unlocked the heavy sliding door with one hand and pushed it to the side, as if it was made from plastic. And then realized that he was facing a female living dead. Dressed in a magnificent parade dress, in which its modeling body still showed seductive shapes, it had a half-torn cheek, probably torn to pieces by a zombie when it had still been human. Opening wide-eyed, blood-stained and surprised eyes, it grunted when it saw him.
Harry hit the creature very hard at the plexus, sending it flying back several yards. This caused it to knock back two other zombies, the trio crashing into the dust, near the intermingled cluster of their predecessors.
Harry closed the sliding door and locked it with a key. Then he ran into a deeper part of the forest, which he reached very quickly with great strides. Red watched him leave through the van's windscreen. And she could not help but be impressed by the man’s speed. How can he run so fast, despite his enormous mass? How does he manage to do that?
Zombies occasionally came from behind bushes or trees, trying to attack him, but like a quarterback playing football, the giant with the cap easily circumvented them. Sometimes he charged them like an elephant, jostling them on the way.
Red turned to look at Hiroto. He remained lying unconscious on his bed. She approached him and, standing in front of him, contemplated her grandfather. He was sleeping deeply, having gotten back his color. Only rest will surely save him, she said to herself.
That’s when she let her gaze drift towards his sword, which was in its scabbard, that she had respectfully placed near him, on the long armchair on which he was lying. She grabbed the scabbard, and grabbing with emotion the black hilt of the bladed weapon, she pulled it out. This caused reflections of the dim interior light to play on the metallic surface, depending on the angle of the blade.
She heard a groan behind the sliding door, then something scrawling on its metal surface. Carrying the scabbard in one hand and the blade in the other, she began to walk toward the door.
But she suddenly stopped. And then sighed lengthily, looking down, depressed.
Then she turned again around, and returned to her grandfather, whom she contemplated, the saber still in her hand. And finally, she put it back in its sheath, before putting the whole in a horizontal position, near the old Master. She was glad to see him so calm. She smiled, telling herself, He’s saved, and he’s got a shelter here.
"I'm not sure I deserve your sword, Sensei... and it's yours until you die." She became silent again, sighing with vexation, and walked away from him. She then headed toward the aft part of the vehicle, with the aim to sit again on one of the front seats, and wait.
Wait. Wait, and wait again... while Harry Jackson was going to risk his life for the others. As she walked slowly, she felt guilty. Guilty for her uselessness...
Then one of her feet stumbled over something, and she fell.
She just caught the rear edge of the driver's seat, avoiding falling completely, shocking her knees. These hurt her, the metal floor far from being as soft as the body of the zombie on which she had fallen from the tree, when she was a child.
Red was going to get up when she noticed something. It was below the driver's seat.
Black plastic, tied by a rope and a knot, seemed to envelop something. She touched the edges of the cloth, and felt that there were hard and protruding objects inside. She opened the knot of the rope and opened the bag to reveal blades. These sparkled within the dim light, as if they were made of diamonds. They all seemed to have been badly cut, not with an industrial quality. Some of them were totally sharp blades. Others had a thick rounded outgrowth.
She saw one in particular, the circumference of which was, on one side, in the shape of a flattened oval stem, and, on the other, formed an extremely fine blade.
She lifted the object, holding it by its oval side. Its borders weren’t really smooth but weren’t really sharp. The whole was about the same size as a saber. It shone even more, showing multicolor light reflections, now that, held high in her hand, it was well lit by the interior light in the vehicle. It threw a thousand spots everywhere, like a disco-ball. She remembered what Bo, who had left the package in the truck, had told her about this strange material.
Red looked at her Sensei who was resting quietly, and took a deep breath. She walked toward the sliding door, hearing behind it screeching noises and grunts. And standing in front of it, she hesitated.
Then she began, inwardly, to count...
One... Two... Three!
She suddenly unlocked the door and slid it open as fast as she could.
Cold air interspersed with putrid odors welcomed her, while roars, coming from nightmarish silhouettes before her, made her red hair rise on her head.
The girl jumped to the ground and, turning around, quickly closed the sliding door behind her, closing the lock with the double of the van’s key she possessed.
Then she turned again, swallowing hard, ready to face her destiny, despite her stress, which was triggered by the cries of the creatures in front of her.
***
Stress
Johnny and Bo had the impression of being heavy underdogs, though the former continued to hide his emotions while keeping his impassive side. The henchman who was near them, on the roof of the truck, at their backs, also showed a cold face.
Hungry Series: Tomes 1 & 2 Page 24
