Not Everything Brainless is Dead

by Not Everything Brainless is Dead (mobi)

  Captain Rescue grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently, “What is it? The anticipation is killing me!”

  “There’s a note up here at the top of the first page, ‘important records kept in the back’.”

  She grabbed a hunk of the manuscript and flung it over the top of the clipboard. The primitive device, which had apparently been doing its best not to burst from pressure all these years, finally gave up its fight. The clip holding all the pages down snapped in two and a few hundred leafs of hand written notes spilled onto the floor.

  Dr. Malevolent shrugged indifferently, “Good thing nobody needs this junk anymore.” After glancing over the pages for a few seconds, she continued, “Lovely, according to the notes here there’s an entire section of the vault dedicated to dangerous cargo. Oh and here we are, one of the safety deposit boxes contained ‘a peculiar vial of green liquid’.”

  Charlie kicked the desk with his fuzzy bunny foot, “It’s a wonder this place didn’t usher in the apocalypse years ago.”

  “I should have ripped it off months ago,” she said, sifting through the listed contents.

  “Yeah, we see just how well it went down when you finally did.”

  “If only I had done some research… I may have been ruling the world instead of saving it.”

  Dr. Malevolent grabbed the page of notes with relevant information, folded it up, and put it in her pocket. Their next stop: the vault. Since Dr. Malevolent had just finished emptying it, they did not have to look hard. Captain Rescue made a game out of getting there first and everyone else let him win. If it were not for the giant Victorian Era wheel, they might have missed the bank vault all together. It was certainly worth many of the things that had been kept within, until Dr. Malevolent stole them.

  Captain Rescue popped his neck and strutted over to the bank vault. He grabbed the giant wheel and tried his best to turn it, but it refused to grant him entry. After an exhaustive fight, Freight yanked the hero back to keep him from injuring himself. Almost in tears, Captain Rescue fell to his knees and slammed his fists against the thick metal as he pleaded with the door to let him in. Not wanting to rob the hero of this emotional moment, Charlie waited before he approached the man. He finally reminded Captain Rescue of the wall missing from the side of the bank vault—a wall that would allow him and everyone else access into it.

  “I knew that,” said the hero.

  They left the bank the same way they went in—through the front door—and snuck around the side, avoiding eye contact with the ghastly remains littering the street. Their old friend, the forever solitary and stoic door, greeted them coldly and refused to grand them access by keeping itself locked shut. Dr. Malevolent scolded whoever locked the door, since she distinctly remembered it had been left unlocked. They punished the door’s uncooperativeness by bypassing it entirely through the demolished wall, laughing and mocking it as they passed. The door remained silent and strong, but if one looked closely enough, they would most certainly see sadness in its frames.

  The area beyond the devastated wall stored office supplies and paperwork, all of which untouched. During the robbery, Dr. Malevolent felt it worthless since she had no shortage of staplers and printer paper back at her evil headquarters. Her lackeys had pushed aside filling cabinets along the wall to cut a perfectly round hole that led directly to the bank vault. One by one, the entourage squeezed through the tiny hole into the heart of the bank.

  All of the safety deposit boxes inside the vault were stacked into a castle, something done by Boris (Charlie) as he emptied each of them into the sacks. Dr. Malevolent took the piece of paper from her pocket, unfolded it, and held it a few inches from her face as she inspected it. It traveled to and from her face as she deciphered it. Eventually, she cried out, “Ahah!” as Sherlock Holmes would after he and Watson had cracked the case.

  Dr. Malevolent huffed, walked over to the box, knelt down, and wiped the grime away, convenient that this bank would label their safety deposit boxes. “Acme Corporation,” she read, “Well that figures, those guys are always up to no good.” She reached inside the safety deposit box and felt around, looking for a clue. “I don’t suppose anyone knows where Acme keeps their super-secret doomsday weapons?”

  “Actually…” Captain Rescue trailed off as he pulled something from his utility belt. He slid the communicator into his ear. “Hello?” he said tapping on it. After a few seconds, a voice spoke into his ear.

  “How can I be of service, sir?”

  “Alfredo, would you look up on that thing you have there where to find Acme Corporation.”

  “Certainly, sir...” He became quiet as he looked.

  Dr. Malevolent piped up, asking, “You didn’t even bother to ask if he was okay?”

  “Well, Alfredo can take care of himself. And even if he couldn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to pick up the phone.”

  She shrugged indifferently just as Alfredo spoke back up, “Sir, there is only one location listed that’s relatively close to you.”

  “Oh, nice, and it only took you a few seconds to find it, how’d you pull that off?”

  “I did an internet search, sir.”

  “You crafty fellow, you.”

  “The Acme location appears to be within,” Alfredo said, pausing for a moment, “The Haunted Forest.”

  Captain Rescue’s face went pale and he nearly bit off his lower lip.

  “Thanks, Alfredo,” Captain Rescue said distantly, distracted by his dreaded words. He shook it off, “Oh and if anyone rings the doorbell… don’t answer.”

  “Certainly, sir. Though, I doubt zombie’s would knock first.”

  “Oh good, you know what’s going on.”

  “Goodbye, sir.”

  Captain Rescue calmly switched off the communicator and slipped it back into his utility belt. He then proceeded to freak out, “It’s in the middle of The Haunted Forest!”

  “Oh, the forest? That’s not so bad.” Dr. Malevolent said casually.

  “Not so bad? Haven’t you heard of the horrible stories of the things within The Haunted Forest!”

  “People like to spread rumors that there are horrible things everywhere in the world.”

  “There are horrible things everywhere in the world?!”

  “That not what I meant at all.”

  “Then why did you say it!”

  “You really are stupid, aren’t you?”

  Chapter 12: The Zombie Experience

  Trashcan by trashcan by telephone booth, Freight checked for zombie occupants, “COME HERE YOU WONDERFUL ZOMBIES, COURNEY AND I HAVE SOMETHING WE’D LIKE TO GIVE YOU.”

  Captain Rescue yelled down the street, “Wait for us you lunatic!”

  “WHY WAIT WHEN WE CAN KILL… KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL!”

  An awkward look appeared on Captain Rescue’s face, and he stopped dead in his tracks. The hero took a step backwards, putting even more distance between them.

  Charlie looked towards everyone else and said, “At least the nut bag is going the right way.”

  The way mentioned was the way to the Acme Corporation Research and Development Lab, where this not-so-mild outbreak originated. The lab sat on the outskirts of the city, nestled within The Haunted Forest, and was home to miracles of the most insidious nature, but zombies were not even the beginning. Acme had their hand in hundreds of different endeavors. Their scientists brought dinosaurs back from the dead a good sixty years before those other people, and the hover boards in a certain movie were a design of theirs that a corporate spy blatantly stole. They were the masterminds behind the worst of it all: global warming. That little doozy was Acme’s crowning glory, and they were quite proud of it.

  The inner working of Acme will have to wait for another time. Zombies are the issue at hand, as they seem compelled to eat anything that moves and many things that do not. And even if they are just another clever ploy by Acme to rid the planet of the virus known as humanity, someone should probably deal with them, someone like Ca
ptain Rescue and company. They may not be the best people for the job, but they were sure to do their best to save the world and everyone living on it. Well actually, Freight’s probably one of the best persons for the job, since he eats and breathes to kill zombies—and most other living organisms. Stubbs, on the other hand, was just in it for the girls.

  Freight paid no attention to his allies, who called his name from off in the distance, begging him to slow down. He listened to only two voices: his itchy trigger finger and Courtney, who continuously nagged him about leaving the toilet seat up. This, coupled with his insatiable thirst, led him up and down silent streets. The occasional lumbering zombie met its end for the greater good of retaining Freight’s sanity—a lost cause, most likely. After a few minutes of chasing after the psychopath, he eventually stopped, flung his shotgun over his shoulder, and cracked his neck. Then turned to the others and said, “I’M GOOD.”

  Charlie had nearly run out of breath by the time he caught back up to the madman, the sweat burning his eyes. Freight watched in absolute horror as he ripped the plush bunny head from his shoulders. Not only did this decapitation cool the sweating human underneath, it also made the profanities he was about to shout even more impactful. Next, Freight found himself berated by a headless Charlie the Bright Blue Bunny Rabbit; Easter had quickly become his least favorite holiday. From this day forward, he vowed to deface any Easter Bunny effigies he came across.

  Eventually, they came to realize another sound accompanied Charlie’s profanity flinging—a soft pounding resonating from somewhere off in the distance. Entranced, they spun in circles in search of its origin. Just before their dizziness caused any irreparable damage, everyone froze like a compass and pointed in the direction of the sound. If they had taken the time to look up, they might have noticed the spotlight traveling back and forth across the sky, signaling to all around the party of the century happening just beneath it.

  Captain Rescue leapt to the top of the nearest vehicle and strained his eyes to get a better look. After a few seconds of staring intensely down the street, he noticed the spotlight and pointed its existence out to everyone around by yelling like a lunatic. The spotlight made whatever lay in that direction even more alluring. The fact that Acme lay in the complete opposite direction concerned them not. Saving the world could wait until the time came, if at all. They were convinced that the spotlight had more important than ridding the world of a few zombies.

  “It’s a UFO!” Captain Rescue shouted frantically as he hopped up and down on the top of the car, “They’ve come to invade during this time of need!”

  “What on Earth are you jabbering on about, that’s not a UFO.” Dr. Malevolent said shortly.

  “It is! It’d recognize one if I saw it.”

  “But you wouldn’t recognize a spotlight? Because that’s exactly what it is.”

  Captain Rescue pulled out his pistol and stuck it to his temple. “I won’t let those tripods get me. I won’t! I’ve seen what they’re capable of.”

  “Oh spare me, you buffoon.” Dr. Malevolent snatched the pistol from his hands and clocked him upside the head with it. “Now will you get a hold of yourself? That is not a UFO.”

  “Fine! But if the tripods come for us, I’m offering you first.”

  “I’m okay with that.”

  Gradually, the heroes came to realize the soft pounding in question was actually ear splitting techno music. Apparently, someone felt a zombie uprising meant to party like your life depended on it, and the city held no better place to party than The Human Experience, the premier nightclub. Its neon sign just now rising from the horizon. Only someone had taken duct tape, crossed out the word human, and spray painted zombie in red. Judging by the artistic skill used to paint the word, a zombie had done it; and the ones loitering outside the club gave strength to that assertion.

  However, these zombies did not exactly appear to be of the clubbing variety. A red felt rope had corralled them into one large group as they went on about their usual zombie business, which included gnawing at each other, and picking at their festering wounds. They seemed to have little interest in actually getting into the club. In fact, as the group neared, the zombies diverted their attention solely to them. Luckily, the red felt rope succeeded in holding back the horde. Apparently, it originated from the same factory as everyone’s favorite door.

  Odder still, a zombie bouncer kept a watchful eye on the club’s entrance. It stood there, arms crossed, looking just as one would expect a bouncer to look. Sure, the top of its head might have been missing (along with a nice hunk of its brain), and sure, most of the skin covering its arms and chest had been flayed off, but it was a bouncer all right. Despite the unsightly appearance, the zombie smiled brightly and waved as everyone strolled down the street.

  Charlie, clearly aware of badly a dance club full of zombies could end, yanked Freight’s weapon from between his fingers before the man had a chance to react. Freight watched in horror as his Courtney plummeted into Charlie’s trousers, but before tearing the bunny to shreds in anger, Freight realized the bunny had a point. Even now, his fingers repeatedly pulled at an imaginary trigger, and it took all his strength to cease the muscle memories. The burly man just hoped that Courtney would not have too many unkind words to say about being dropped down a pair of trousers.

  Stripped of his significant other, Freight sulked down to a frame of his former self. His hands felt naked despite the gore covering them. Well guys, he thought for a moment as he stared longingly at them. He stopped as the tears welled in his eyes. He just could not find the words to describe his feelings right now. All Freight could think was how fun it would be to wrap his hands around the neck of the next zombie he came across. He then looked at the zombie bouncer’s fast approaching smile and slid both his hands into his pockets for safekeeping.

  “Welcome to The Zombie Experience!” The zombie bouncer said excitedly as he beckoned them over.

  Charlie, Dr. Malevolent, and Captain Rescue all turned to Stubbs, who said defensively, the club’s techno music making it difficult to hear him, “Don’t look at me! I don’t know what’s going on here!” Stubbs hung his head low and added, “I guess it was stupid to think I was one of a kind.”

  Everyone hopped onto the curb and approached the dance club’s entrance. The zombies, of course, grew exceedingly excited. Teasingly, Captain Rescue stepped up to them, stuck his thumbs into his ears, waved his fingers about, and made faces. The bouncer stepped between Captain Rescue and the dead, “Careful, those guys there are feral. They’d eat you right up.”

  Dr. Malevolent glared suspiciously at the bouncer, “But you wouldn’t?”

  “Human flesh don’t agree with me.”

  Her suspicious glare had not faded.

  “Give us one reason we should blow you all to smithereens,” Freight commanded of the bouncer. Without Courtney between his fingers, Freight no longer felt the need to scream everything he said to people. The others were quite intrigued by the sound of his voice when it was not being forced down their respective throats.

  “These here zombies like loud music, it keeps them entertained. If they’re in here, they’re not out there biting things.”

  While everyone else argued about how big of a trap this was, Captain Rescue strolled towards the nightclub, beckoned by the large double doors. The shattered glass, jagged and covered in all sorts of nasty stuff, implied that some sort of tomfoolery happened inside. The hero leaned in and tried to decide what coated the doorway. It sure looked like the nightclub patrons after they had been torn to shreds. On the other hand, this could have been the aftermath of an innocent food fight. Captain Rescue held the door open and ushered the others into the club.

  Charlie put his bunny face into the bouncer’s and said simply, “If this is a trap, you will be sorry.” The bouncer simply backed away and held its arms up innocently.

  Dr. Malevolent turned to her lackeys, “You guys should really stay out here, if you enter this club chance
s are a few of you would no doubt be eaten before we leave.” The lackeys nodded at each other. Secretly, they knew that it was only a matter of time before each of them met their end in an excruciating fashion.

  Chapter 13: Well, if the Shoe Fits…

  Just beyond the double doors, The Zombie Experience greeted them all with a wall. To the right, a door labeled humans awaited their entry, while a hallway to their left was clearly intended for the zombies, as its label and disarrayed state implied. Charlie noticed how fortified the human path appeared, and how easy it would be to trap them all behind it to their doom. The bunny turned around and marched right back outside to confront the zombie bouncer.

  “Is there a specific reason this door is reinforced like it is?” At the first sign of anything suspicious, Charlie would be the second one (right after Freight) to blow the heads off every one of these zombies before they could get to his, not that they would find a plush bunny head very appetizing.

  “Safety, buddy. These zombies are brainless animals, remember?” The bouncer replied.

  Charlie glared at him behind the fake smile of the bunny, and then went back inside without saying another word. Everyone else had simply thrown caution into the wind and walked through the reinforced door. Charlie rolled his eyes and shrugged, then just slammed it shut. Inside the hallway, everyone found the blaring techno music coupled with the darkness dulled their senses almost completely—a state that Captain Rescue found all too familiar, since he barely utilized any of his five senses in the first place. The others found the sensation rather unsettling, since they had grown accustomed to theirs.

  After a short journey down the hallway, they discovered just where it led: a room overlooking the dance floor, down below, about one hundred zombies grooved to the music, in the same sense that cornstarch grooved to the music when a glob of it is plopped onto a speaker. Zombies, no doubt, just liked their insides jiggled, and a zombie would find no better place to jiggle than a nightclub. The extreme decibels reacted quite interestingly when passing through a zombie’s insides.