Dead and Dead Again: Kansas City Quarantine

by Dalton Wolf

  “Here! Here! Now!” Calvin shouted.

  Trip slammed on the brakes.

  “Flip the hood release!” Calvin called.

  “There isn’t one. I mean, they’re on the fenders!”

  Both men jumped out, dashing to the front to unhook the black metal releases on either side, but the hood did not budge. They quickly looked back to see if they had enough time to find out why. They didn’t. Both men jumped back in and Trip drove them a half block further up the street for a little bit more of a cushion.

  “Here. Here it is!” he shouted, pointing to a florescent green knob clearly marked ‘Hood Release’ on the left side of the dash. “Of course! He disconnected the real latches and put a special hood switch in here so anyone in the movie universe wouldn’t have to be stuck outside trying to open the hood during the apocalypse like we were! He always thinks of everything!”

  “Ok, let’s try this again!” Calvin yelled.

  The pair jumped out again and ran to the hood, flinging it up with one arm each and trying to hold both ears with the same arm. Trip was the first to spot the three large black horns in the dark engine compartment. It was on Calvin’s side, but hidden under a shield that blocked his view. He pointed and Calvin leaned forward to get a look. In one quick motion he grabbed and pulled on the wiring harness that went into the back of the horns. A profound silence washed over them like an avalanche. Both men would have sworn they had gone deaf if not for the tinkling from above that drew their eyes first to the turrets, and then to the zombies they were shooting. A group of eight zombies moved ahead of the others, all wearing running gear.

  “Might wanna step it up, boys. We’ve got a pack of Joggers coming on fast,” Sarah cautioned them.

  “That one almost made it,” Felicia noted calmly. She was stuck in the back, and couldn’t shoot out because the back window was sealed and concussion proof; it did not open. She could have jumped out with the boys, but hadn’t even contemplated it until far too late. Now she could only sit and watch everyone else act. But she did have a full suit of chainmail armor on now, so she was feeling pretty badass. It’s funny that I’ve never felt as safe as when I’m stuck in a car in the middle of a horde of zombies and can’t shoot my gun,” her brain quipped to itself, because it was weird like that.

  “We’re turning in to the park right now,” Quinn declared quietly. “I stopped honking a half a block ago. It looks clear up the hill.”

  “Right. We’re about to reach the half-block on our end,” Calvin lied, switched off his mic and shouted to trip, “Step on it!” Both men then jumped in and buckled up.

  Tripper gunned the accelerator for the full half-block until Calvin pointed at a little access road. He yanked the wheel and skidded onto the little street and followed the curve up the hill into the park.

  “No, it’s over that way!” Sarah pointed slightly to the right and he gave the wheel another yank, jerking the Hummer onto the grassy hill.

  “Watch that tree!” Calvin warned him, pointing to a freshly planted tree on the sloping hill.

  Tripper veered away from it.

  “Bush, bush!” Calvin shouted out, this time pointing to a pair of bushes to the left. Tripper steered back straight again.

  “Watch out, flower bed to the left!”

  “I don’t think we need to worry about a flower bed hurting the car, Scoot!” Tripper snapped back.

  “I’m not worried about the car, either. I don’t want you tearing up the park.” When Tripper shot him a look of disgust, he explained. “Hey, it’s a beautiful park, man, and the only tribute to our fallen warriors from World War One. Show some respect.”

  “Right, Calvin,” Tripper replied evenly, mapping out a new path into the park that avoided all of the bushes and flower arrangements. He had forgotten all about Calvin’s family history. The Hobbes family had lost at least one man to every war of their existence, first fighting for Great Britain, and then on both sides of the Revolutionary War, and later in every war and ‘police action’ the US had fought. This had continued until Calvin came of age. Both of his parents were in the Special Forces and had been killed in the Middle East when he was barely a teen. Following their death, in exchange for taking care of him, his uncle had made him promise to never join the military. His friend had kept that promise and never joined up, but he was all about supporting the troops.

  “Sorry, I forgot, man,” Trip said earnestly.

  “Don’t worry about it. This is probably the end of the world. Maybe I’m the asshole here.”

  “Oh, you’re definitely the asshole, just not about this,” his friend grinned mischievously. “Did they ever answer your text?”

  “Nope,” Calvin answered.

  “Man, is Boomer gonna be surprised,” Trip laughed heartily.

  The custom vehicle topped the little rise into the inner Liberty Memorial Park area and, after a moment of orientation, accelerated straight for the flashing lights of the ambulance. The bigger black vehicle was driving circles around the green shelter trying to clear a path by running down the remaining zombies. Limp bodies flew in every direction, skidding through the damp grass and bouncing off of the tables in the shelter. Sarah and Joel began shooting their nail guns as soon as they were within range of the group and they quickly cut a nice circle around the structure.

  “Slow it down a bit, Trip, will you?” Sarah asked.

  Trip slowed the Hummer from thirty to ten.

  “There. That’s it,” she cooed.

  “Yeah, that’s just about perfect,” Joel agreed.

  “It’s like nine and a half mph,” he informed them.

  “It’s the perfect speed for aiming these things,” Sarah explained. “Right around ten to fifteen is smoother, no matter what you’re hitting or what range.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Trip argued.

  “No, she’s right; it really is,” Joel countered. “I don’t know why, though,” he added lamely.

  All around the shelter zombies fell to the earth, several silvery darts poking out of the skin around their exploded eyes.

  “That’s some great shooting there, guys,” Calvin praised them as they took down more and more of the shuffling, limping Infected.

  “It may take more shots to put a nail in the right spot,” Joel said. “But it sure as hell is a lot less messy than axes and baseball bats.”

  “Too bad we can’t all have one of those, but we’d run out of nails eventually, and have to resort right back to our trusty melee weapons.”

  “You’re probably right,” Joel agreed. “But for now, I call dibs on the coolest of weapons—this one,” he nodded down to his turret.

  “We’ll see, Joel.”

  This was basically agreement in Joel’s eyes. He let out an enthusiastic ‘woohoo’ and took down three zombies with a single extended burst.

  Sarah was still unsure she wanted to do so much killing, but she wasn’t about to give up the turret until she had another plan.

  “I call dibs on this one, then,” she said.

  “Of course,” Calvin agreed. “As long as you both realize that everyone needs a little training on the guns, you can be the main gunners.”

  “Right.” “Sure.” They responded.

  For a moment, the area around the shelters was clear. Stragglers began shambling back into the park from the outer edges, attracted by the lights of the ambulance.

  “Ok, Quinn. Move in there on the East side. Get as close as you can.”

  “Right.”

  A young black man’s head peeped over the top of the shelters now, white eyes shining in wonder. Tripper pulled up between the remaining little horde and the shelter, putting Calvin on the inside. Calvin swung down the tiny chunk of removable bulletproofing on his window and looked out.

  “Boomer! Brick!” he called.

  “Calvin? Is that you?” Boomer’s brilliant teeth beamed like the sun on a solar panel. “Glad to see you, man! The fuck you wearing, dude?”

  “He
y Boomer!” Calvin smiled up at his friend, before realizing he was wearing a plate helm and Boomer couldn’t see his face. He waved through the window instead, not wanting to step out because they needed to remain mobile for a bit longer.

  Athena, however, had already leaped out and stood looking up at the roof, guiding Quinn into position. “Climb onto the roof!” she shouted.

  “Athena?” Boomer eyed this blue-armored warrior in surprise.

  She pointed at the edge of the roof behind them. Boomer looked back. The high profile ambulance box actually sat higher than the shelter roof. He stood and hopped up onto the vehicle, then dropped to his stomach at the rear, leaned over and pulled himself through the back door of the modified Hummer upside down, dropping to his feet to stand in the ‘bed’ of the ambulance.

  “Brick!” Athena shouted.

  The former Quarterback had half-risen, but then froze, his fear-filled blue eyes fixated onto something in the distance. She looked back to the north see what horrors awaited, but it was just the army of undead Shufflers massing across the park by the memorial, slowly beginning to advance towards the group again. Most likely they were being drawn to the sounds of their shouting and the lights. He clearly had yet to adapt his thinking to the reality of what they were facing, namely zombies.

  “Turn off the lights, Quinn,” she suggested, then, “Brick!” But he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, look away from the approaching multitude. Oh my god. He’s really out of it. “Ok. You have to come down now, Stephen,” she cooed, soft voice dripping with sweetness, like she was trying to trade ice cream for good-behavior from a little child. “C’mon, honey. You have to climb over and jump onto the truck, now”

  He looked down at her for a second and his eyes nearly locked into focus, but then he shook his head and returned to his appraisal of the incoming zombies.

  “Damn it!” Athena jumped onto Quinn’s hood and stomped onto the roof.

  “Hey!” Quinn complained.

  “Get your ass up here, Brick!” she ordered him, ignoring the smith.

  Brick finally looked straight at Athena, seeing her for the first time, but made no move towards the vehicle.

  “Is he bit?” Calvin asked.

  “No,” Boomer shouted from inside the ambulance. “He’s checked out, man.”

  “He’s just dazed,” Athena answered.

  The air guns opened up on the approaching masses at about twenty feet. Athena felt a bead of sweat building on her forehead as she glanced back to check the distance.

  “C’mon, Stephen, honey. It’s ok. We’ll help you,” her dulcet tones attempted to attract the dazed athlete, arms gently waving him onto the vehicle. He reached out a hand and she grabbed it with both of hers and heaved.

  In that moment Boomer was back up on the truck beside her, his dark hands grasping at the other arm, pulling in unison. Together the pair heaved their nearly-catatonic friend onto the roof. Boomer pulled more of the nearly two hundred pounds than Athena, but she exerted all of her strength to steer his useless body just perfectly so that when he ultimately collapsed onto the vehicle he plopped down right over the back door, head hanging off the roof, drool dripping harmlessly into the grass below.

  “Get down there, Boomer,” Athena ordered.

  “You go,” he shook his head. “Get inside; I’ll drop him in there.”

  “Boomer Louisa McClintock. You get off this roof now and catch him or I’m going to tell everyone your middle name.”

  “Louisa!” Trip called. “Oh my god. Boomer is Louisa!”

  “Again, I mean,” Athena shrugged a completely unapologetic apology.

  “Woooohoooo, Louisa!” Joel cat whistled. His friends sent catcalls and whistles.

  Boomer threw a mock injured look at her and jumped down as she pushed Brick off into his waiting arms.

  “Nice work. That’s what they mean by throwing a brick,” Joel quipped, air-throwing a basket.

  “Maybe Thick as a brick.” Sarah snorted roughly, glaring up at the man angrily.

  “No, no,” Tripper shut them all down, mistaking Sarah’s anger for sarcasm. “She done dropped da brick on him,” he joked. “Huh? Huh? Right?”

  “Can we all speed it up a little,” Calvin ignored pretty much everyone.

  “Athena, be ready to jump down and get in as soon as they’re clear. Hurry it up and get him in, Boomer!”

  Calvin wasn’t panicking, though it may have sounded that way to anyone not familiar with his methods. His friends tended to become easily distracted with their own wit and thereby often let trouble find them while they stood around patting themselves on the back. The horde of dead rolling towards the two vehicles like a tsunami and they were just sitting on the beach gossiping and sipping drinks from hollowed out coconuts with little umbrellas in them. While they dawdled, the pack of Shufflers had slowly closed to within twenty feet and there were now too many targets for Sarah and Joel to keep the perimeter cushion clear.

  “Get us moving, Trip” Calvin ordered. “Slowly. Spiral away from the center.”

  “We’re partway in,” Boomer said.

  “Got him, Boom? Go, Quinn. Go!” Athena yelled from the top of the roof.

  The big smith gunned-it and the powerful ambulance sent mud and grass flying up behind it as the tires dug in. Several zombies bounced off the brush guard on the front and Boomer had to repeatedly stomp one hand from the oversized rear bumper. The stubborn dead guy in a blue jersey wouldn’t let go until all of his fingers had been broken off. With that, Boomer finally managed to manhandle the rest of Brick firmly into the back of the truck. Athena waited until they were clear and then swung down into the back with even more grace than Boomer had originally shown.

  “Nice moves, Rosebud,” Calvin tossed her a compliment over the mic.

  “Thanks, baby,” she fired back.

  “You know, I did that first,” Boomer argued into the mic Quinn had just given him.

  “She made it look better,” Calvin dismissed him smoothly.

  “Well, it’s not a fair comparison.”

  “How’s that?” Calvin asked.

  “I don’t have her finely chiseled ass to work with,” he pointed out.

  “Seriously? I’m rescuing you and you’re talking about my girlfriend’s ass?”

  “I’m just saying…”

  “We need to get Brick back to have the doctor look at him,” Athena suggested. “If you’re all done talking about my ass, I mean,” she sniffed her disapproval.

  “Ok. Why are we going so slow?” Calvin asked, feeling his temperature rise.

  “Slowly,” Tripper corrected.

  “Adjust our speed, not our English!” Calvin spat back.

  “I’ve got time for both,” Tripper countered.

  “Aaagh.” Calvin added, throwing his hands into the air in disgust. When his knuckles slammed off of the roof above him, he post-scripted a nice, “Damn it!”

  “You ok over there, baby?” Athena asked.

  “Yes. Just bent one of my fingers back a bit. Go down that hill there, then straight east, Trip.”

  “That’ll take us across the parade route,” Tripper warned. “We don’t know what we’ll find up there in that part of downtown.”

  “It’s mostly clear,” Gus called said over his mic on the tower. They could hear the wind whistling past him.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be on your way down?” Calvin asked.

  “We can’t get the motor to work right. It won’t move by remote.”

  “Well, you can’t stay up there all week,” Calvin noted brilliantly.

  “No Chiz,” Gus replied with a touch of sarcasm.

  “I just mean that we’ll have to do without if it won’t work.

  “I’m talking to Hef on the radio. He’s going to tell me how to fix it as soon as he checks the schematic. But I can move it manually for now and it has power so I might as well use it to help you guys get around. It’s mostly clear back to your street.”

  They rode in si
lence until they reached the street Calvin wanted. Tripper was still staring ahead as it approached.

  “This is it.” Calvin pointed.

  “What, no it’s the next one,” Tripper argued.

  “It’s this one, Tripper!” he insisted.

  “Shit.” Trip jerked the wheel of the vehicle and skidded them around the corner.

  Luckily, Quinn did know his way around this part of the city and had already slowed behind them. They entered a familiar-looking area of residential homes. The packs of basket-pushing scroungers were no longer in sight in this area, probably having finally returned to their individual bases to hide until the danger had passed.

  The gun-toting gang members still stood solemn sentry on each aging street corner and the aggravated glares aimed towards the passing vehicles suggested the men were even less inclined to let them pass this time. It was perfectly understandable. These people had a job to protect their individual blocks and they weren’t happy letting anyone pass without permission, or at least some discussion. Fingers fidgeted uneasily close to triggers and Calvin saw two young black men in red jerseys nearly fight up the nerve to step out. They pointed their guns at the convoy, but the serious-looking dual machine guns being brandished in their general direction gave the people in the vehicles an extra diplomatic tool, and another free pass. Those men didn’t have to know they were facing a couple of mere nail guns—incredibly deadly nail guns when aimed correctly—but nail guns just the same.

  “Let’s go another way next time,” Scooter suggested casually.

  “They’ll stop sitting on street corners when they realize just how many of those things are out there,” Athena noted.

  “Maybe. But they’re still here for now. We’ll take another route next time.”

  “If you say so, Calvin,” she acquiesced.

  The rest of the return trip was uneventful, seeing only a few small groups of Shufflers and Gimps and one Lurker that Sarah took out by filling its legs so full of steel that it fell out of the alley so she could pepper its skull until one nail finally finished the job. They could ignore the slow ones, but the Lurkers and other fast movers needed to be put down so they couldn’t hurt anyone else.