by Dalton Wolf
Gus laughed. Most of the others smiled.
Calvin rubbed his chin. “We need to get going. Trip, get behind the wheel,” he said finally. “You’re driving.”
“Right, Scoot. ‘Bout time I finally get a car.”
“She is not yours,” Hephaestus hit a button on the wall and stopped the spinning floor just as the vehicle lined up with the room through which they had entered, his guest garage. “So take care of her and bring her back unharmed.”
“We’re going to want everyone to try driving at some point,” Calvin informed them. “We don’t have the time right now, and maybe we’ll find out later that it doesn’t matter. But let’s make it a plan. Quinn, do you mind going with us for this one last trip?”
“I guess a deal is still a deal,” the big man agreed.
“Sorry, Hephaestus. Can you just get all of your projects ready for the two person stuff and work only on the one-person projects?”
“Yes, Calvin. I have plenty of one-person tasks to do. That is the reason I wanted another one-person.”
“Ah, sorry about that. But I think we’ll need both vehicles out there and he won’t let us drive the ambulance.”
“Well…”the big Armorer hesitated.
“Sorry, no time to teach anyone how to drive it,” Calvin said quickly, walking to the door. “And we really need his arm anyway. Can’t hang around all day talking and wasting time, ooh, speaking of time, we have to go,”
Hephaestus grinned. “One more trip would not hurt, I think. I will have everything laid out when you return. It will go much faster if I have a plan,” he promised.
“Great,” Calvin clapped his hands together. “I think, we may need the main party to all jump out somewhere and I would rather not have the driver getting out unless absolutely necessary, unless it’s Gus, who’s probably in the best shape of us all, so…Sarah and Joel on the turrets. You’re the smallest, quickest, most acrobatic, and best shots. You two should be able to turn the turrets faster because of your height, and you can unload yourself in a hurry as well. At least, much faster than me.”
No one said anything, so he kept going.
“Tripper will drive the Hedgehog. That leaves me, Athena, Gus, Felicia and Scaggs as the main party. And just Athena, Felicia and myself once you two are gone,” he pointed at Gus and Scaggs. Trip, you may need to jump out to help as well,” he amended. stumping
“Right.”
“Athena, I think you’d better ride shotgun with Quinn.”
“Ok. I was thinking someone should, because we’ll be losing Gus and Scaggs.”
“If necessary, I can jump out and help as well,” Quinn pointed out. “I’m big, but not entirely slow.”
“Ok, get in and let’s go save our friends,” Calvin ordered, fitting the earpiece around his ear and telescoping the tiny, nearly invisible mic halfway down his cheek.
“Do you not want to know how to use this, first?” Hephaestus asked, holding out a large bag.
“What is it?”
“It is the camera equipment you’ll be setting up.”
“Oh, right.”
They waited another ten minutes for Hef to show Gus and Scaggs how to set up the equipment while Trip and Athena played with the operating program on the laptop he gave them.
The Red Tower
“We’ll take Holmes to 31st. It runs parallel to the parade route,” Calvin informed them energetically as Tripper pulled the Hedgehog around the Ambulance in the little garage, the new rubber tires squealing on the tile like a squeegee on a dry windshield.
“Roger that. Over,” Athena said from the Ambulance.
“Let’s hope the worst parts have rolled past us already, over,” Trip noted casually.
“Keep close back there when we get going, Quinn,” Calvin ordered the man.
“I got you, leader, Over,” Quinn responded.
“You guys, we’re on a direct channel. We don’t have to worry about anyone overhearing us,” Calvin said in exasperation.
“And?” Athena asked. “Over.” She added.
“And you don’t have to say ‘over’ after each transmission. Just talk normal.”
“Oh. Ok. I thought we were going to try and do this like professionals,” Athena responded in a huff, but he could hear her and Quinn laughing and mumbling about him. Though, as badly muffled as their voices were, they had at least tried to cover their mics.
“Just…c’mon you guys. There is serious stuff going on around here. Can we try to act like we’re not all back in high school?”
“Just trying to keep it light,” Athena replied. “Maybe we all need to laugh a little. This isn’t un-scary, Calvin,” she admitted.
“Fair enough,” Calvin yielded. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Seatbelts.” Sarah said flatly, belting into her turret.
The others looked at her with varying degrees of incredulity.
“Safety first,” she said.
“We need to go,” Scooter demanded.
“Click it or…flip it,” she said lamely putting her middle finger up.
“Let’s go.” Calvin repeated firmly.
“We can’t just let the laws of society fall to the wayside just because our culture has hit a little snag, Calvin Hobbes,” she explained. “Don’t shake your heads at me,” she hissed to the others.
Tripper started the engine and put it in gear.
“What if we have to hit one of these things at a high rate of speed?” she continued quickly, pressing her point. “How much do you weigh, Scooter? About one-eighty?” But she didn’t wait for an answer. “What is that multiplied by fifty miles an hour? Let me see if I can remember the math…”
But Calvin was very good at math. And he had never been partial to pancakes and still remembered that film Blood on the Highway.
“Fine,” he conceded. “We won’t last long if we are wounded or dying out there on the streets. Safety first. Click em, guys.”
“I was clicked the whole time,” Quinn said.
“Me too,” Athena added.
The Hedgehog moved out and Quinn accelerated behind them at just under two car-lengths. Hephaestus hit the close button on his remote even before they were clear and stood waving until they were out of sight, just like his grandmother had taught him.
A few blocks away Tripper turned onto Holmes.
“There’s some good news, at least,” Gus announced to no one in particular.
“What’s that?” Athena eventually asked, mainly because she knew he would pout until someone asked him.
“No waiting at the DMV today.”
The group watched the building roll by with mixed emotions, its dusty-white exterior window-pocked like the moon’s cratered surface. Like the Moon’s surface, surrounded by dark asphalt parking lots in lieu of the dark of space itself, there was no discernible movement within sight of the bulky building. It lingered there throwing its mere resolute existence in their faces, inert but foreboding, like a solitary tombstone in an empty grid of the cemetery, or again, like the full moon in a clear midnight sky. And then it was gone, behind them and only a memory, daylight come at last.
“That was weird,” Tripper said, trying to shake off an eerie feeling as they crossed the highway overpass of I-670, crawling along at a mere twelve mph, the entire group on edge. Everyone peered into every passing window and doorway for dead or signs of people hiding from them, but so far they saw nothing.
“Think we could find any help there?” Athena wondered aloud.
Tripper rested a foot on the brake. “Should we stop?” he asked, braking anyway.
Quinn pulled up on their bumper and held up his hands in an unspoken question.
“Where?” Scooter asked, looking back at the ambulance to follow her eyes.
“Mark15 Strategic Research and Design Agency,” She read. “Sounds like a military weapon factory or training area.”
“In downtown?” Tripper asked in disbelief.
“It’s not,” h
e replied knowingly.
“You sure? Maybe there’s more underground.”
“I’m sure. They do graphics.”
“What?”
“Like title sequences and shorts. Some special effects. They’re really kind of famous.”
“Never heard of them.”
“Well you wouldn’t have had a reason to.”
“Why?”
“Because they make graphics. You don’t use graphics. But that’s all they do. They don’t make weapons, secret or otherwise.”
“But it says ‘Worldwide Ultraglobal International Top Secret Superheadquarters’ on the sign.” Athena emphasized. “A little overly-redundant, but sounds like a place the government would put in plain sight hoping no one would get curious.”
“It’s not, babe” Scooter said evenly, though his voice raised to an inflection nearing annoyance. “Festus has used them in the past.”
Hopefully that would end it. She usually believed any Hephaestus endorsement.
“So, you’re telling me that a man who makes impossible, yet totally working weapons and high tech machines for Hollywood has to come here when he can’t do something and that’s why I shouldn’t believe this isn’t a secret test facility for weapons?”
“He uses them only for the video.”
“Oh, Video. Video!” she shouted in understanding. “See, you said graphics,” she explained. “Graphics could mean any of a dozen different things.”
“Video. Video graphics. It’s the same thing”
“No,” she denied. “Not really. Video is recorded naturally in ways I won’t bore you with now. Video, basically, is multiple pictures taken in rapid succession and depicting an actual occurrence as it unfolds over the time of the chosen exposure. Graphics are what are added later to emphasize and or transform particular aspects of the original video. Now, if you want to get into other kinds of graph—”
“—I meant video graphics,” Scooter stopped her before she could start a seminar on the various types of video and graphics. “Video title sequences like you find at the beginning and ending of a movie.”
She paused, wondering if now was the time to push her point until he stated firmly that he was in the wrong, but eventually decided to drop it. It was the end of the world, after all. “Well ok, I guess I just misunderstood what you meant.”
“No. No. It was my fault. I misspoke,” he insisted in his best conciliatory tone.
“Fair enough,” she responded, honey dripping from her voice at having received justification. He should have qualified video graphics from the start.
“Either way,” he continued unfazed. “I’m really not sure what they have in there, but I am sure they don’t have weapons.”
Athena watched with uncertainty as the little one-level, brick-fronted building slid by. No one spoke for a few blocks following the awkward exchange. The normalness of the moment had shocked them—boyfriend and girlfriend having good-natured, everyday niggling as if nothing had changed, like zombies weren’t real, the world not ending.
Still trolling slowly, the drivers of the two vehicles paused at each corner to evaluate the area, everyone making notes. Scooter had called it a ‘reconnoiter’ like he was in the military and someone had laughed, but that’s what they were all calling it now. The caravan approached a long uphill stretch of road flanked by Jersey Barriers. They were halfway through it before Gus realized it was either a cheaply constructed temporary bridge or the city was using the thicker K-rails as guardrails because of the frequency of drive-offs. I wonder which? he wondered.
They passed an abandoned playground, a solitary red-seated swing creaking in a gentle breeze. Will any kids ever play there again? Athena asked the universe.
TMC, stated a large blue sign in the middle of a split parking entryway. Tubman Medical Center, thought Calvin. I wonder how bad it is in there? But the smoke billowing from the broken second floor windows told him all he needed to know. Medical supplies, he noted on the board in his lap.
Jimmy Joe Bob’s Bar-B-Q and Catering was written on the side of an abandoned overturned truck. I’m really hungry, Tripper realized.
Construction on 24th. When isn’t there roadwork around here? Sarah mused.
The familiar green façades of The Med Shed and Tacolali passed on the right side. Man, I’m kind of hungry, Joel rubbed his belly and sides and gave himself a pinch, looking down to see the results. Yep, still over an inch. I pass.
This guy smells awesome, Scaggs lay her head on Gus’ shoulder to cover a deep inhalation of his sweet man scent.
I wonder if we should stop somewhere and fill up some barrels of fuel now or wait until we have some place to store it? Quinn speculated.
“It’s Shock.” Scooter announced into the silence.
“What is?” Athena eventually asked.
“The reason you’re all noticing these odd things you wouldn’t normally see, like how green the grass is, or wondering why you never drove to that place, tried that restaurant, how long has that place been there? It’s shock.”
The others nodded in sudden comprehension.
“And maybe still some of the lingering effects of El Supremo this morning,” he joked, wishing he hadn’t left his one-hitter at home. I could sure use a smoke, part of his brain thought. But the rest of his faculties reminded him this wasn’t the time. Later, when we’re safe again.
Everyone was surprised when they entered the border neighborhoods. Actual live people were running around with shopping carts full of foodstuffs and other supplies and escorts carried weapons. And just as if they were in a low budget comedy, two dumb-asses were running down the middle of the street with a 60” tv.
“Don’t you think food and water would be a better option at this point, morons?” Tripper screamed through the closed windows.
Bonfires burned around them on the street corners and they could see gray-skinned arms and legs sticking out of several of the blazing pyres. The denizens of each neighborhood had picked the oldest and biggest vehicles and pulled them across the street, from the first house on one side to the first house on the other across the side-streets, marking their ‘turf’ and basically walling them off. They left no openings into their protected areas, but in the center of each was a ‘gate vehicle’ that they could pull out to let people or vehicles in.
“Word must have spread on how to deal with a zombie infestation,” Sarah noted.
Some of the braver gun-toters, black trucker-hats turned to the side, started to approach the two vehicles, but thought better of the idea as neither Joel nor Sarah failed to aim their machine-gun-looking air turrets at the overly-curious groups. The vehicles were allowed to pass unhindered, although begrudgingly.
“Guess they figure the end is near,” Scooter muttered. “They’re digging in.”
“Gotta get what you can and hold it until things smooth over,” Trip agreed.
“Might be hope after all,” Scaggs said brightly. “Told you this town was special.”
“I wish we could help them,” Athena noted softly.
“Help? Athena, if we stop there is a high chance they’ll kill us and take our stuff.”
“You don’t know that.” She shot back angrily.
“No, I don’t. But to keep us all safe I have to act as if that is what would happen. We’ll help anyone who is in obvious need. For the rest…I’m just hoping they keep giving us room to pass. I don’t like the alternative.”
“I didn’t say we’d stop and get out unarmed and paint targets on our chests or lay down on the street,” she argued. “I just wish there was something we could do.”
“What we can do, we’re already doing,” Calvin assured her.
Athena watched the last groups of armed men pass by and safetied her rifle again with a sigh of relief.
“Hey, am I supposed to shoot them next time?” Joel called down from the rear turret, forgetting the microphone and nearly deafening them all with feedback.
“Just talk normal!”
Calvin shouted, hand over his mic watching the rest of the group take their ear pieces out and finger their ears. Then into the mic he explained. “You don’t have to say over, and you don’t have to shout. Just talk normal, everyone…please. And for the record,” he added for Joel. “We shoot real people only if they come at us.”
“What if I can’t do it?” Joel whispered.
A cold fist opened in Calvin’s chest at the thought of shooting living, un-infected humans, but they’d all seen the movies and television shows and what happened down in New Orleans and the other disaster cities and one thing rang true time and again—some people are just assholes.
“You can do it, Joel,” he encouraged his friend. “Just remember that if you fail to act, everyone you love will die.”
“Thanks. No pressure there,” Joel’s eyes rolled in response to Calvin’s evil grin.
“Seriously, though,” Calvin turned around to take in those he could see with a serious glance. “We won’t have time to second guess ourselves. This is real. Maybe we all need a little reminder of that. If we hesitate, we could die or get someone else killed. We have to count on each other from now on until this thing is over. If you have to do or say something stupid once in a while to keep your sanity, by all means go ahead and do it. But let’s not allow it to jeopardize our alertness. We have to stay alive…and when we get all of our friends and family sorted out, then we need to find a way to end this sooner, rather than later, so there’s still something left worth fixing.”
“I think there’s a lot of dead that need killing before we can even think about any kind of fixing, Calvin,” Tripper told him.
“Yes, I know. In fact, Sarah and Joel, you both need to practice. Don’t waste our ammo, but you need to make sure those things are going to work when and how we need them to. Pass on what works to the rest of us if you can. I wish we had given them a test run before we left.”
“You don’t trust Festus? I’m gonna have to tell him,” Trip joked.
“I think he’ll allow it. He knows I’m from Missouri. If you want me to believe it, you have to show me.”