¤ ¤ ¤
Router’s army was terrorizing Dallas. Most of them were nightbreed, but every thirtieth or so was a daywalker. And each of them were spawning more followers. Children and young women were disappearing from the area at an alarming rate. After only one day, the police were overwhelmed. Any female deemed a threat to her rule was quietly disposed of. The men were willing pawns.
Router, now queen of the dead, had nothing to lose. She controlled them via thought alone, so she couldn’t be implicated physically. And if by some chance she was caught, the being that possessed her would defend her. The human part of her, now buried, understood that she, too, was a pawn in the scheme of things, but she was making the most of it while her power lasted. In a worst-case scenario, she would abandon her meatspace component entirely.
¤ ¤ ¤
Zealous1 dropped a dime, and mad hoods converged on the Dallas-Ft. Worth area. Most of them were locos who were anxious to squeeze the trigger anyway. Once he hipped them to the scenario, guns blazed day and night. But Router’s forces were growing faster than they could be disposed of.
¤ ¤ ¤
Nursie needed to visit a bathroom.
“Can’t you do it while we’re driving?” High asked her.
“Eww, no!” she said. “You just want to see my pussy.”
“I’ve seen them before, dear. It’s just that we’re twenty minutes from E.P.P.’s house. Although I must confess, it would be highly erotically charged. Whoever conceived of perfumed inserts for bloody pussies was a genius. Your aroma is intoxicating.”
“Fuck you, High-C.”
“See?” he said. “Put it on a t-shirt.”
¤ ¤ ¤
MC Wreckshin got a call and gave them directions. Thankfully, he had stayed up and waited for them, but he was dog-tired. When they pulled up, Nursie ran into the house.
“Hey, Wreckshin! Gotta pee!” She pecked him on the cheek and ran into the bathroom.
Myf carried her bags in, ever the gentleman.
“Howdy, pard,” he said.
High-C walked in. “Hello, Mike,” he said.
“Fuck you, High-C.”
High smiled.
¤ ¤ ¤
They were slow to react, but the feds finally caught wind of what was going on. The alphabet soup of agencies was arriving by the van full. Naturally, they were clueless. They had two tactics, brute force and subterfuge. The psychic nature of the zombies made force next to impossible, as they simply didn’t reveal themselves in the presence of law enforcement personnel.
Covert action fared little better. By luck, the FBI managed to capture one of Router’s minions. They were unable to do more than film it, and it eventually forced them to shoot it. It then of course reverted back to human form, and they had a new mess on their hands. They had killed the mayor of Dallas. Eventually, in desperation, an NSA hipster contacted YTCracker for help.
¤ ¤ ¤
MC Inadequate and Chozo Ninpo weren’t formally invited, but they received word via the quantum grapevine, so they scrounged tickets for themselves and Veeps and caught the red-eye to Orlando.
¤ ¤ ¤
Myf, Wreckshin and Nursehella passed out. Before High-C went to sleep, he called his Usenet friends Soapy and Dean and told them to come to Orlando for the morning. Dean, because he was hyper and full of ideas, and Soapy because she needed excitement in her life. Plus, he needed a non-nerdcore perspective.
Finally, he got some much-needed rest.
Chapter 6 – Z.E.D.’s Not Dead
At five P.M. the assembled nerdcore army met again at Geek NASA to discuss their options. Only YTC elected to hang back and run things from Colorado, NORAD-style.
Spork conducted the meeting.
“The first meeting of Z.E.D., Zombie Eradication Defense, is hereby called to order. Myf, High-C, and Nursehella are here to give a firsthand perspective of the situation.”
Myf spoke first, the most credible of the three.
“Guys. Gals. I know you won’t believe it, but we’re in the midst of a full-blown zombie invasion.”
Cries of disbelief erupted from the crowd.
“Bullshit!” someone said.
“Myf, you’re crazy,” said another.
“Cool!” Betty Rebel yelled.
“Fuck you, High-C,” Beefy said.
“Nursie, tell ‘em,” Myf told her.
“It’s true, people,” she said. “I shot one in the chest. That should let you know how serious this is.”
Subdued murmurs circulated the room.
“Dummy here shot a cop in the face,” she said, indicating High-C.
“Fuck you, High-C!” the assembly yelled. He laughed.
“And he wasn’t even a zombie!” he yelled back.
Now it was their turn to laugh.
“I’m afraid it’s true, though,” High said. “The zombification of America has begun. They need us to take ‘em out. I’ll let the little bastards responsible tell you how it happened and why it concerns us, specifically. But first I’d like to say hello to Chozo Ninpo’s lovely girlfriend. Hello, Monica…”
Veeps blushed a deep crimson. Shamus took the microphone.
“Look, people. We’re very sorry. We were messing with forces we didn’t fully understand, and we, uh, sort of unleashed a demon of Lovecraftian proportions.”
Most of the nerdcore crowd had at least one foot firmly rooted in science, and they believed in demons even less than they believed in zombies.
“Fuck off!” someone said.
“Look, your non-belief won’t change anything. We really need your cooperation.”
Shamus passed the mic to Thugmasta J.
“You all trust YT, right? Well, he hacked into a government server and got a top-secret spell book. I’m afraid we read the spell that unleashed the beast, so to speak. Go ahead and text him. We’ll wait.”
YT’s phone started blowing up, and after he answered the first few messages, people seemed to be satisfied that they were telling the truth.
“How does this concern the nerdcore crew?” someone asked.
“I sort of transferred the demon to MC Router,” Quartz Relic said.
“How can you tell the difference?” High-C asked, causing everyone to laugh loudly.
“Seriously,” Relic said, “She’s censoring internet traffic from the area. But between us and the information that slips out, we know it’s centered around her.”
“Assuming we believe you, what can we do to help?” Doc Pop asked.
“We’re goin’ zombie killin’,” Myf said. “We need people who aren’t afraid to shoot to kill. Guns, crossbows. If your magic is strong enough, use that. But we’ve got to get to Router, and it won’t be easy.”
“You guys are talkin’ about actual killing,” Betty said. “Kick-ass!”
“You’d better get with it girlfriend,” Hella said. “Everything depends on us. Zealous, care to give us a few words?”
“What up, y’all?” This is endgame, folks. I don’t know about you, but I’ve trained for this my whole life. I’m ready to lead a party to Dallas. If you ain’t with it, you’d better step back.”
He pulled a sawed-off from behind his back, and a few people audibly gasped.
“It’s not a game or a drill. It’s the real deal this time,” he said.
“What can I do?” Soapy asked. “I’m not a killer, I’m a housewife.”
“Can you drive?” Myf asked. “We want to trek to Texas at least two to a car. One driver, one shooter, minimum.”
“Yeah,” Soapy said. “But a lot of us flew here.”
“We’ve got cars,” Zealous said. “If you don’t mind ridin’ dirty. Or we can steal a car for you.”
“Zombies, robots, pirates, ninjas…and gangstas?” Monny said. “That could work.”
Shinobi of Krondor Krew stood up. “KK representin’ the ninja element. We’re down.”
“Yar,” Captain Dan said. “I and me scurvy crew are throwin’ our hats
into the ring.”
“I refuse to confirm or deny I am a bot,” Doc Pop said. “But I find this entire scenario fascinating. Can I help without being a triggerman?
“Navigator?” Nursehella said. “It’s a long way to Dallas.”
“Perfect. And I’ve got my yo-yo if we get in a pinch. I think I might enjoy driving, as well.”
“Okay,” Myf said. “These things, whatever they are, either knew we were coming here, or followed us. It’s going to be a fight to get to Dallas. We have a cache of weapon at The Comic Shop. Guns, edge weapons, staffs for you clerics.”
Get with Beau if you need a car. I printed up maps. Take one, get your weapons and go. The map leads to a park near Router’s apartments. We’ll rally there for the big showdown.”
“Shoot to kill,” High-C reminded them.
¤ ¤ ¤
E.P.P. rode four deep in Wreckshin’s Chevy Nova, arming Betty Rebel with an Uzi. Karl, Nursehella and Bbear set out in a stolen lowrider with an AK-47. Krondor Krew drove a Takuru Spirit, naturally, and carried the standard assortment of ninja weapons.
Captain Dan’s crew always traveled armed as well, with scabbards, cutlasses and vicious-looking knives. The Rocket Propelled geeks were hyped. They had actually gotten their hands on an RPG-launcher and a few .38 specials.
Magitek stayed true to their name, bringing only electronics, music, and the book that had caused their problems in the first place. Plus a kendo staff for insurance. Zealous1 rode out in a fly Cadillac, armed with twin sawed-offs. Doc Pop was behind the wheel, and Beefy was in the backseat.
Veeps, Chozo and Inadequate left in a huge Hummer with an assortment of handguns and an SKS assault rifle. High-C grabbed a second Glock, and Myf acquired a .357 magnum, taking an assortment of hand grenades. Dean and Soapy drove a Ford Taurus and brought pistols, but really didn’t expect to use them.
They all set out for Dallas, and none of them knew that they each carried a kilo of Sir-Up’s new discovery.
Chapter 7 – Federal Case, Jr.
The feds sent a representative to talk to YT in person.
“Listen, Bryce. We know about your latest break-in. Sloppy. But whatever you kids did, it’s kicking our asses.”
“I’m not admittin’ nuthin’,” YT said. “You know the routine.”
“It is our understanding that there’s a deeper connection to your little nerd rap scene. We’re in a real pickle, here. Throw us a bone.”
YT considered this for a moment.
“We’re responsible and we’re going to fix things. But we need total immunity for all crimes committed during the interim.”
“All crimes?”
“Except rape,” Bryce said.
“And you expect carte blanche? Nice try, kid. I know you. Ten minutes after we leave, you’ll be draining bank accounts.”
“Do you want the problem handled or not?”
The agent sighed.
“Yeah. I’ll send word to treat the matter hands-off. My bosses are not going to like this, though.”
“Fuck what they like,” YT told him. “Do you really want a nation of zombies?”
“You guys have forty-eight hours. After that, you can expect prosecution for any crimes you’re caught committing,” the agent said as he left.
YT chuckled and sent a text to Nursie: “All systems go. License to kill.”
Then he defaced the White House homepage, declaring himself President, even including his picture like the old days, and started transferring funds from Wall Street to the accounts of the nerdcore crew.
¤ ¤ ¤
The trouble began almost as soon as they hit the interstate leaving Orlando. They were traveling in a vee formation at one hundred and ten miles an hour, the roads eerily empty. Four Florida state troopers tried to pull them over, and it was their first shoot-out.
One pulled beside E.P.P. and Betty said, “That cop looks like a pig!”
“Semantics,” Sir-Up said.
“No, he has a pig nose! Fucking shit!”
“You’re riding shotgun…” Wreckshin reminded her.
“Oh, yeah. Fuck yes!” she said. “Now how does this thing work?”
She roughly aimed the Uzi and pulled the trigger, releasing a burst that caught the pig thing through the bicep, rupturing its chest. The cop car veered off to the right and into a ditch.
“Don’t fuck with the Reb!” she yelled.
Another pulled up next to High-C and Myf, Myf made a “roll down your window” gesture, and to his amazement, the cop rolled down his window.
He pulled a pin and tossed him a grenade, which landed in his lap. Myf waved goodbye, and when it exploded, all of the windows of the cop car shattered. The car lurched left toward them, and then rolled, nearly causing a collision with Bbear’s vehicle, which was following behind them.
Doc Popular was, of course, a hell of a driver. He cut across two lanes of traffic in an instant, perfectly positioning Zealous1, who stuck out a shotgun and shot through the third cop’s window, vaporizing the side of his face. The car slowly coasted to a halt behind them.
MC Inadequate banged into the last car with the Hummer a few times, toying with it, until one of the RPG crew lost patience and blew it up. The explosion was spectacular.
Nursie got a text from YT: “Local law enforcement says clear roads ahead. Haul ass.”
¤ ¤ ¤
By then, everyone in Router’s apartments were either dead, disappeared, or converted. She rose, nearly eight feet tall, and surveyed her troops. She now had an entire battalion of undead warriors, and they were steadily growing more numerous.
¤ ¤ ¤
YT transferred a million dollars into each nerdcore artist’s bank account. He mainly robbed megacorps and billionaires, so a lot of them never even noticed once he’d covered his tracks.
If they survived, they’d be set for life. He sent another text to Danielle: “$1,000,000 in your accounts. 44 hours to withdraw. I don’t trust the feds.”
¤ ¤ ¤
E.P.P. practiced their new material as they sped down the highway. High-C put in a CD he specially made so he and Myf could recreate the Run-DMC scene from “CB4”, which killed an entire minute.
Beefy and Zealous1 got into a fierce freestyle battle as Doc Pop beatboxed for them, eventually declaring it a tie.
RPG downloaded High-C’s tracks and gave them a listen, surprisingly enough. Even more surprising, they enjoyed them, appreciating the dark undertones, which was something nerdcore generally lacked.
Bbear drove while Ultraklystron and Nursehella made love in the backseat, and he tried not to look. Each time he did, all he saw was Karl’s white ass, so it got easier each time.
Magitek desperately tried to figure out how to reverse the damage they had caused, to no avail.
“We’re gonna have to kill her,” Thugmasta J said.
They didn’t have any more problems until the Louisiana border.
¤ ¤ ¤
Router sent forty-nine of her minions to the rest of the continental U.S. Hawaii was off-limits due to the difficulty of a zombie getting past airport security.
¤ ¤ ¤
Nursie kept YT informed, and eventually he decided that he couldn’t miss the action. He and the Spamtec crew chartered a private jet and flew to Dallas to meet up with everyone else.
Chapter 8 – Louisiana Sucks, But Not As Much As Florida
In typical fashion, the Louisiana police weren’t playing ball with the feds. In defiance of orders from Washington, they blocked off I-10 west entirely, declaring that no one but no one was going to break the speed limit on their watch.
The caravan saw the line of white state trooper’s cars and slowed down as they approached, stopping a few yards short of them.
“I’ll handle this,” High-C said, getting out.
“Don’t,” Myf said. “They’ll arrest you at the very least.”
“Naw,” High said. “These are my people.”
“What seems to be the
problem, you boys?” High asked one of the troopers.
“Damn feds. They said to just let y’all blast through here, fast as you please. Ain’t gonna happen.”
“Shit,” High said. “Y’all got a beer for me?”
The cop looked surprised for a moment, and then walked to his car and got a long-necked Budweiser, ice cold, from a cooler in the backseat.
“Thank you, sir. Mighty refreshing. All I’ve had lately was Miller High Life.”
“Damn communists,” the trooper sympathized.
“So, did they tell y’all why we need to book it to Texas?”
“Some fool nonsense about zombies, undead army. Craziest shit we ever heard.”
“Oh, now I get it,” High said. “I’m not surprised Louisiana folk didn’t fall for that. That’s just the latest federal code talk. You know we can’t say things directly.”
“Oh, yeah? For what?” the trooper asked.
“Negro-Mexican uprising…”
“No kidding?”
“No, sir. I shit you not. They’ve formed some sort of anti-white, anti-Christian army in Dallas. Took a bunch of white women hostage.”
“The hell you say!” the cop said.
“Yes, sir. I’m sad to say it’s true. See that nigger?” He pointed at Myf, who smiled and waved. “We’re transporting him for a hostage exchange.”
“Well, I’ll be,” the trooper said. “We knew something like this was going to happen some day!”
“That day has arrived, sir. Today is the day. We have a white girl who escaped. They didn’t even let her take her shirt, the poor thing.”
“Fucking savages,” the cop said. “Let’s roll. We’ll give y’all an escort to the state line.”
“Let me go get the girl. She can tell you the whole story on the way. In six hours, they’re going to start killing the women if we don’t get their leader back to them.”
High walked over to Nursie. “Take off your shirt,” he said.
“Fuck you, High-C,” she said, taking it off.
“Come on. Turn on the tears. You were kidnapped by a bunch of black and Mexican gang members and escaped. Only you can find their hideout.”
“How utterly contrived,” she said. “Slap me.”
Zombie Killa Page 3