by Dalton Wolf
“You don’t happen to have access to the keys of these cars do you?” Calvin asked.
“I’m not going out there alone!” she insisted.
“You don’t have to, yet,” Tripper told her.
“Mo, can you tell me what’s keeping the dead out of your lot and the one over there?” Calvin asked, changing the subject to ease her mind for a minute. “It seems like almost all of them are staying out on the streets for some reason.”
“Yes, there are iron-and-concrete fences standing at between knee and waist level all around three sides of the lot. They keep people from driving off with the vehicles without our permission.”
“Can’t they just drive through that thin fence in the back?” Tripper asked. That’s how he was already planning on getting his car out, if he could get one.
“Anyone driving through that fence is in for a real surprise, Honey.”
“How’s that?” Tripper began rethinking his route.
“It may look like some generic material fence, but that thing is Antonopoulos Fencing. It is layered, linked Carbon-Fiber and Cobalt filaments. It’s light as chicken wire and strong as ten inches of concrete and steel.”
Someone whistled.
“Did she say Antonopoulos?” Scaggs asked.
Athena nodded to her.
“As in our Antonopoulos?” she mouthed silently, pointing to the Hedgehog.
Athena nodded again.
Scaggs whistled again.
“So how did the dead that are here get in?” Calvin asked.
“Oh, some can jump it. But for most of them, the fence is so low that sometimes they just fall over it when they get to jostling,” she said with a laugh. “It would be hilarious if I weren’t stuck in here watching the lot slowly fill up. I want to thank you all for cleaning those others up for me. If you can take me with you, I’d really appreciate it. Just throwing that out to see where we stand on the issue…”
“Mo, about the keys…” Calvin proposed hesitantly. He held up a hand to forestall another passionate plea for rescue. “If we take you out of here—” he started.
“—I said I’ll do anything you want,” she repeated.
“Can you get us the keys to some of these vehicles?”
Her eyes lit up. “Can I get you the keys?” she laughed a raucous cackle. “Can I get you the damned keys, he asks. Calvin Hobbes, I would kiss you if I weren’t sure your girlfriend would brain me with that panabas.”
“How do you know what’s it’s called?” Athena asked with a confused squint.
“Oh, I dated a guy from the Philippines. He was big into those freaky weapons.”
“You’re still not kissing Calvin,” Athena assured her.
“Right. But I can still give him what he wants,” she sent Athena a mischievous smile. “I can give you any damn vehicles you want to take off this lot…I mean, not to keep, but to use until things are right again, and only if you take me out of here.”
“Mo, that sounds like a deal,” Calvin said with a big grin. “Did I see you have a Ford Excursion with a big ole ram plate up front?”
“Ram plate?”
“I think you have to get into the spirit of what we’re going to be doing,” Tripper explained, slapping one fist into a palm, fittingly it was metal on metal.
“Honey, I have no idea what you plan on doing,” Mo explained right back.
“Oh, good point. We’re going to take the biggest vehicles you have and run the dead out of town…at least these dead,” he pointed out the window as another zombie fell over the fence and rolled around until it lay up against a car, then used the door handle to pull itself upright again like some drunk on a Saturday night preparing to dive home when he should really call a cab. “We’ll ram any that don’t comply.”
“And then what are you going to do?” she asked.
“We’re going to come back here and help a friend who’s stuck out there.”
“Out there?” she pointed.
Calvin nodded.
“Your friend is dead,” she assured them confidently.
“I haven’t seen a soul alive out on those streets for days. I saw what happened to anyone who got out of their car. And then when those army people showed up, I thought I had been saved. I was just about to run out and thank them for the rescue when that stupid bitch took them right into the middle. I never saw them again.”
“Our friend was with them. He was alive an hour ago,” Calvin elucidated.
“Oh. I haven’t seen any activity all morning, so he might still be there.”
“So, do we have a deal?”
“I wish you were just getting into a car and leaving,” she replied dryly. “But I guess I don’t have any choice. I’ll give you your vehicles and maybe you can talk me into driving one if you promise to take me with you.”
“I promise we are taking you with us when we go.”
“As long as you’re alive when we’re done,” Tripper said flatly.
“And if we’re alive when we’re done,” Boomer clarified with a beaming smile.
Mo laughed even harder than the first time and patted Boomer on his armored shoulder and simultaneously sized him up, then did it again and cleared her throat and straightened her hair again, now immeasurably regretting not having cleaned up better. But at the time, she had been positive she was the last person on Earth. Boomer couldn’t contain an interested gaze either, his dark eyes moving slowly down her slinky form while he did that lip biting thing that all black guys seem to have naturally inherent in their genes. Even with the smeared makeup, she was beautiful, so he gave her his best, bare-toothed grin and winked. Straightening her hair again, she turned and pointed out the window. “Ahem. Ladies and Gentlemen, what can I get you into today?” she asked with a flourish at the parking lot, sparing a meaningful glance for Boomer.
The five would-be rescuers pressed their faces to the glass to see as much of the lot as they could. The expensive vehicles were all lined up within view of Burlington and the little road that ran in between the two dealerships. The used lot had it all, from Acura to Volkswagon, trucks, SUVs and just about anything sport and leisure.
“I think I’ll stick with the Excursion,” Calvin said. “I really like the look of that massive grill.”
She pulled a yellow #2 and a small pad from a bright blue desk and started scribbling. When she had finished writing, the pencil point hung mere centimeters above the paper and her eyes moved to Calvin’s left, questioning, expectant.
“Lexus GX 460 for me,” Athena nearly purred while eying the burgundy SUV with unchecked hunger. “Might as well do it with some class,” she explained.
“Good point,” Boomer agreed. “I’ll take that big GMC Sierra 2500,” he crowed. “It’s big, black and beautiful, like me.”
“I’ll take the Jeep Wrangler,” Scaggs pointed at a white ‘04 Wrangler with about a ten-inch lift kit on it. “It’s a geek thing.”
“GMC Yukon Denali, Black baby,” Gus said smoothly. A half dozen curious stares demanded a deeper explanation. “What? I’ve never driven a GMC before.”
“I’ll help with the Dodge Ram 2500,” Morena added bravely.
“Thanks, Mo, but you might have noticed that all of us are wearing armor,” Calvin gestured at his friends.
“Yes, I did notice that.”
“Well, it keeps us pretty protected from those very mobile dead things out there. We’ll put you in one of our vehicles and you can watch safely from there.”
“Ok. I just want to help you so you’ll make sure to take me with you.”
“Believe me, you’re helping us more than we can say as it is,” Boomer assured her. “You’re making dreams come true,” he added with another sparkling smile and the lip-biting thing. “I mean with the vehicles, of course,” he added innocently.
“Ooh, I like you,” She grinned and nodded, wishing she could see the body beneath that steel. But she turned to Trip. “What truck would you like, um, Tripper is it?”
> “No truck for me. I’m with Gus. Might as well try something I’ve always wanted to try. I want that Metallic Blue BMW M5 Sedan sitting right up front here,” he pointed.
“A sports car?” Morena asked.
“No,” Tripper stated firmly with a slow shake of his head. “It’s…a…sedan,” he clearly enunciated each word. “I’m with Athena and Gus, I guess. I want style and I’ve always wanted to drive a Beemer.”
“If we’re all about making dreams come true, then I’ll take that crimson Tesla,” Calvin amended his earlier choice.
“I can’t believe you didn’t say that first,” Tripper slapped him on the shoulder.
“I was thinking they might get banged up a bit so we might need bigger cars, but now I’m thinking you only live once.”
“Twice, apparently, if you live in Kansas City,” Tripper corrected.
“The second one isn’t what I’d call living,” Calvin ended everyone’s laughter.
Morena hopped off to the manager’s office and soon returned with a black tray that held several sets of keys with blue tags. She read the tags each the set for their desired vehicle. “Now, except for the Tesla, each car only has a few gallons of gas, so whatever you plan on doing, you have to do fast or we all need to go fuel up.”
“First things first…you said the fences are impossible to drive through, so how do we get out of this lot?” Calvin asked.
“Oh, the gate on the south side opens to a button here or a remote. I have one on me,” she showed them the little black box hanging on the side of the shiny black belt around her waist.
“Ok, then,” he replied. “There’s a gas station down the street by the interchange. You think we can still get gas there?”
“If the tanks are still turned on, we can use my company card,” she held up her plastic along with a three day old smile. My bank is local, so it should go through. I don’t think they can turn us off from ourselves yet, can they?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Calvin said with a thoughtful grimace.
“I wouldn’t put it past them to try,” Tripper grumbled, glaring at some microcosmic unit of ‘government’ existing only within his own paranoid mind.
“Well, if it’s on, lunch is on me,” she flipped her hair and stood in what would have been a super-model pose. No one ever told her that she looked like a psychotic clown, or maybe P!nk in that ‘Don’t Leave Me’ video after she’s already lost it and is running around with the axe.
Starting the cars was the hard part. The zombies out in the street heard the roars of the v8s and approached the fence clearly hoping for food, several dozen falling over into the lot and begging to be finished off by Calvin while his friends tried to sneak to their prospective cars. Boomer escorted Morena on his arm as if to the prom and dropped her off safely in the shotgun seat of the Paddy Wagon, shooting a wink to Felicia at her thumbs up. He then danced happily all the way to his GMC.
Calvin guarded the fence until Athena and Trip were safely in their vehicles and driving through the gate into the watchful perimeter of Joel and Lucy and their deadly turrets.
“Ok, Calvin,” Athena called from her Lexus, aiming her rifle out the passenger window and somehow still watching the street ahead simultaneously.
Calvin shook the putrid, congealing corpse goop from his axes and wiped them briefly on two rags hanging in the custom pouch Quinn attached to every piece of armor he had ever made. This special touch of dedication and imagination was something that only those who had lived a medieval lifestyle for a few days could fully appreciate, and that was no one…until this very week. When both axes were clean he sheathed them and began to pick the larger chunks of flesh from his armor, wiping at the coagulated blood until anything that was still moist was removed.
“Are you coming or not?” Athena complained.
“No law against neatness,” he replied tossing a mischievous grin at her.
Calvin spun on his heels and swaggered over to the Tesla, sinking down into the driver’s seat as if into the comfortable captain’s chair found in any man-cave in America. Only he wasn’t about to watch the game, he was preparing to save first a man and perhaps, through that man, the entire world. The seat took some adjustment to accommodate the axes on his back, but he soon sat comfortably enough. Lightly brushing the dash and steering wheel with a loving hand, he flipped the key to start. Nothing happened. Nothing, that is, except for the central console lighting up like a Christmas tree as some messages flashed across the screen. But no roaring engine that practically every driver in the world had come to expect from their ride.
“That was anti-climactic,” he complained. Then, “what the…crap, I have to read?” he cursed, trying to make sense of things pinging and flashing for his attention.
“It’s a smart car, Calvin,” Athena informed him haughtily. “You want to switch so you can have a higher IQ than your ride?” she jabbed.
Tripper and several others laughed.
Calvin ignored her. He was too busy reading data that basically informed him the car was ready to proceed as soon as he put it in gear. After the first few seconds of confusion, he quickly adjusted to the very user-friendly console, put the car in reverse and backed out of his spot. Then with an evil grin, he stomped on the gas for an immediate response that sent acrid white smoke billowing into the morning air and left four matching black lines from his parking spot to the open gate. As he reached the gate, Athena sat within her Lexus shaking her head at him. “Shh,” she cautioned him belatedly. “We’re trying to be quiet, remember?”
“Sorry,” he apologized, not sounding even remotely sorry. He would have revved his engine to emphasize just how sorry he was not, but that would have left another quadruple set of marks right up to the ass end of the Paddy Wagon.
“Let’s go,” he breathed.
The convoy of borrowed cars drove westward to the tracks and left a confusing assortment of trails through the grass and gravel behind the buildings all the way to the street containing the gas station. There were still no dead down this far.
“Here we are,” Morena informed them. “Up there on the right.”
The cars pulled in and Mo tried her card. Somehow the machine took it and she ran to the other pumps putting her card in for everyone. Calvin pulled to the exit and waited. No Infected wandered into the lot to harass the distracted fuelers. He was a little disappointed by this, but he didn’t know why.
“I’m in the lead,” he stated boldly when his friends finally started getting back into their vehicles.
“Which way are we going?” Sarah asked.
Calvin turned off his key.
Shit.
“Um, I hadn’t actually thought through that part,” he admitted with a blush that he was thankful none of the others could see. “Ok, we go back the way we came, follow the tracks. Only, instead of taking the tracks behind the racquet club, we’ll drive beyond and through the brand new landscaping past the park. Athena, Gus, Scaggs, Boomer, Sarah, you’re with me. Tripper, you take Felicia and the Hedgehog with any dead who want to tag along up Two-Eighty-Three. There’s only one split there or I’d give you more people. But you have the Hedgehog, so you’re one up on everyone else. Take the…zombies slowly all the way up near Seventy-One highway and make your way back. I believe there’s a street...Forty-sixth, I think, gets you to Holmes. It’s the last right before you reach Seventy-One. North Holmes comes almost all the way back here, but it’s through the burbs so watch your back…and your sides.”
“Yeah, and watch for random rocket fire,” Boomer joked.
“You sure you won’t need the Hedgehog with you?” Tripper asked.
“I’d hate to keep you out there alone,” Calvin said.
“Just give me Boomer and we’ll get it done,” Tripper stated confidently.
“You ok with that, Boomer?” Calvin asked.
“Hell yeah. We’re just gonna be running anyway. If we get into trouble I’ll lock the doors and give you a call.”
It took three hours to coral the zombies into any semblance of a cattle drive and get them moving in the same direction and out of the area. Though it was a cluster-fuck from the beginning, Calvin managed to eventually get things under control. Zombies being zombies, they shuffled aimlessly and stumbled away at every noise and movement that caught whatever passed for attention in their dead heads. The group quickly discovered that the vehicles in the middle of the convoy couldn’t make even the slightest noise without drawing the attention of the zombies ahead, causing the entire ‘parade’ of dead to stall and mill about aimlessly until the horns, yelling and eventually gunfire from the lead vehicles pulled them all forward again. The ‘cowboys’ in the middle could only physically bump the Infected back in line.
Tripper and Boomer had initially led two or three hundred off to the right on 283 and were quickly out of sight. The others did eventually move most of the remaining ‘herd’ northwest into the Northlands. At random points a dozen of the gray-skinned Infected would branch off from the trail and root around in the grass. No one understood the reason for this, but they were too busy to worry about it. At the first split, two of the cars pulled off, honking and firing rifles in an attempt to take as many as would follow. Gus and Scaggs took this second group with them, staying on 9 Highway, making so much noise they took a full third of the horde along.
“See you back at the rendezvous,” Gus called.