Dead and Dead Again: Kansas City Quarantine (31 page)

“I think we’ve got more important
things to worry about,” Calvin warned them. But certain groups of people could easily
become side-tracked with mundane things when bigger issues awaited their
attention, especially when times were hard. This was definitely one of those
times, and absolutely one of those groups.

“Dragon,” Joel suggested helpfully.

“Too fantasy-ish,” Gus shook his
head.

“And already taken,” Hephaestus
informed them.

“Albatross,” Scaggs blurted.

“The Big Black Box,” Felicia
suggested with a shrug.

“I need to smoke a bowl,” Tripper
announced.

Calvin sighed.

“Paddy Wagon,” Hephaestus blurted
out.

“Hmm,” Gus hmmed.

“I like that one,” Calvin admitted,
nodding slowly.

“It has a cage in it now, like the
original paddy wagons did. You will certainly be picking people up and locking
them in there for a while, at least until we know they have not become infected.
And we are adventurers. Everyone knows that all good party adventurers need a
wagon for their woot.”

“Nice,” Calvin agreed.

“Besides,” Hef laughed. “You named
the vehicle on which I worked so hard. Now I get to name a vehicle belonging to
someone else. It is only fair. Sorry, Quinn,” he shrugged at the big armorer in
a flippant manner completely devoid of even the most base look and feel of a sincere
apology.

Quinn sighed morosely. “What kind
of world is it where a man doesn’t even get to name his own vehicle?” he raised
his hands to the sky.

“Yes. That is what I said,” Hef
grinned back.

“Sorry, Quinn,” Gus shot the man a
grimace. “Look, we’ll call it whatever you want to name it.”

“No. I’ve had her for almost a
decade and never even thought of a name. It is right that she should be called Paddy
Wagon, I think. Maybe I’ll call her Patricia, and say it’s a nickname.”

“You know Paddy Wagon is spelled
with two Ds, right?” Scaggs asked.

“But you can’t tell they’re Ds when
someone says it. Could just as easily be two Ts. Besides, you’re one to talk,
miss silent gee,” he shot back with a broad grin.

“Touché,” she grinned back.

“Here, Gus. She is yours—temporarily.
Take good care of her.”

“Don’t worry, Quinn. I’ll treat her
as if she were Calvin’s.”

When the big man’s eyes narrowed in
puzzlement, Calvin filled him in.

“Gus doesn’t have nice toys. He plays
rough. He uses things until he breaks them. But he’s really good at taking care
of toys that belong to others because we make him pay for what he breaks.”

The big red-bearded man laughed a
laugh that for a moment made the day seem brighter and Calvin felt very happy
he had invited him to join them. Quinn brought a stoic acceptance to their
plight without the drama or cynical smartassiness so many in his group felt was
necessary. The older man set a good example and he was still here when he could
have pointed his truck at either coast and kept driving.

“Thanks, Quinn,” Calvin shook the
man’s hand and held his eyes. “For everything,” he added.

“A deal’s a deal,” the big man said
with a wink, somehow guessing Calvin’s mind.

The group of friends headed back out,
the Hedgehog in the lead with Trip behind the wheel again and the Paddy Wagon
taking up the rear with Gus under helm. They weren’t a block away yet when the
doctor called.

“Fortress to Adventurers. Fortress
to Adventurers.”

“Adventurers to Fortress. Go
ahead,” Calvin replied, sharing a concerned squint with Tripper.

“Calvin, I’ve been monitoring your
discussions. I think since you are so close that you should come by and take
Brick with you,” the doctor sounded concerned.

“Why, what’s up?” Calvin asked, his
squint deepening into a worried frown.

“Well, I think he should really be
under your watch more than mine.”

“What do you mean, Doc?”

“I’ll explain when you get here.”

“Ok, Scaggs,” Calvin said into his
mic. “It looks like someone cancelled their appointment. The doctor will see
you now.”

“Shit.” She muttered, hiding her crooked
fingers under her armpit and leaning back in her seat, tears of fear sliding
silently down her pale cheeks as Gus turned them onto Burlington, heading for
the Fortress.

“Your turn to take watch,” the
doctor informed Sarah. She grimaced at Athena, who would now be left to finish
the sandwiches alone. “I need to make a few calls. Brick should be resting in
the basement for a while.”

“Don’t worry. I can make them
myself,” Athena assured her, eying the remaining loaf of bread and piles of
food. “It’ll take me a half hour or so.”

“Good, because that’s how long my
watch is going to be.”

Athena sent her a query with a
hitch in one eyebrow.

“Calvin says he wants us fresh.
Half hour watches for those on duty for now, and four hour maximum sleep cycles
for us all until we get everyone safe. Or unless we can’t go out for an
extended period. And if that happens, he’ll assign us each our downtime.”

“He’ll assign?” Athena started to
get riled.

“Hang on, girl,” Sarah put a hand
on her shoulder. “You know he doesn’t want leadership any more than he wants to
be eaten by a zombie. But he’s the leader. And the leader has to make rules.
He’s just taking charge because he knows we expect it. And he’s good at it…most
of the time.”

“I know, but…it was Valentines Day
Again again. It was our first time spending it alone, and it was great, and now
it’s turned into this freaky nightmarish…thing. And there’s no escape. I’m not
going to wake up and find out that it’s all a dream. It’s real and it’s scary. And
I thought the one thing I might be able to cling to is Calvin. But he’s going
to be so busy keeping everyone else alive that I won’t get any time with him.”

“You know how to solve that problem,
don’t you?” Sarah asked with an impish grin.

“How?”

“Make sure you’re useful out
there,” she pointed out to the city with a nod. “Be a good second-in-command
and he won’t get worried that you can’t take it.”

“I don’t know if I
can
take
it,” Athena admitted.

“Then get used to waiting here
while he goes out.”

Athena nodded. ‘You’re right, of
course.”

“The Dead are waiting!” the doctor’s
booming voice echoed down the hall, and with another grimace, Sarah darted from
the room to her post on the patio.

Athena took another look at the
sandwich fixings and let out another sigh. “Might as well get to it; sandwiches
don’t make themselves,” she said in her best Calvin voice.

She loved the smell of sandwich
fixings. Something about it always reminded her of her of being a kid again. As
she worked a chill made its way up her spine, but she shrugged it off. She had
taken her chain mail jacket off because it didn’t fit the task at hand and she now
stood slightly stooped over the table in a thin, tight pink t-shirt and her
chain mail leggings. She had been spreading mayonnaise, slapping meat, tomato,
lettuce and other items between the slices and wrapping them for so long she
was in shock when the last two pieces of bread appeared before her. An even
bigger shock came when a pair of hands slid quickly up her sides and then
firmly grabbed both breasts.

“What the fuck?” she shouted. She
knew it wasn’t Calvin; he always made sure his hands were warm, first.

“Easy,” Brick whispered into her ear,
pulling her close.

She reached for her M-16, but his
hands tightened on her breasts and powerful arms pulled her away from the
weapon.

“Brick, what the fuck? Let me go!”

But he didn’t let her go. One
strong arm held her tight while the other continued fondling a breast.

She tried to pull an arm free, but
both of her arms were trapped under his.

“C’mon, Athena. You know you’ve
always wanted it.”

“Brick. You better let me the fuck
go, now!” she wriggled and squirmed, trying to free an arm, but he had clearly
practiced this move a lot, and knew just how to hold someone immobile.

“Oh, you pretend to be in love with
Scooter, but I’ve seen you looking. I see you blush when you see me working out
or with my shirt off.”

Leaning into her and twisting one
arm behind her back, he forced her towards a work bench on the opposite wall,
far away from her rifle. He knew he could move her in any direction he wanted
her to go with very little effort.

“Brick,” she moaned.

“Ooh, yeah. You like that, don’t
you?” he purred.

“No, it hurts,” she cried. “Please
stop.”

“Oh, I’ve got something that’s
gonna make you cry,” he promised, pressing himself up against her back so she’d
know exactly what he was talking about.

She looked around for anything she
could use as a weapon. She spied it. He was forcing her forward, now they were
at the bench and he was trying to bend her over the surface while attempting to
unbuckle her grieves with his free hand, a task at which he was failing
miserably. So lifted her up and slammed her bodily onto the bench, forcing the
breath from her lungs, shooting pain through her entire upper torso and stunning
her long enough for him to let one hand go and force one of her arms beneath
her chest. He then put all of his weight on her back with the flat of one hand
and repositioned himself above her. Slowly he twisted her ‘free’ arm against
her will, pulling it down to the buckle so he could make her unbuckle her own
grieves. It was all about control, power. But she had a free hand now. Even
though it appeared to be stuck underneath her body on the bench, she had moved
it just where she wanted it to be as she was thrown down, just above the second
shelf, and her only hope. As her mind cleared she began feeling around the
shelf under the table top in desperation.

“Stop struggling, slut!” he grunted
in her ear. “Or do you like it rough? Ooh, is that it? You like it rough? I should
have known a tasty whore like you would be kinky.” He grunted and flexed his
muscles, stuffing her face into a box of used cleaning rags.

“Please,” she gagged and coughed.

“Shut up. You had your chance to
talk. Now you’re going to do everything I say. I’m gonna make you my personal
whore,” he promised in a menacing hiss.

Her searching fingers finally
wrapped around the blade of the rusty fillet knife she’d spied on the shelf.

“Damn, I’ve always wanted to bang a
chick in armor before. I just thought I’d be the one in the armor,” he let out
a high pitched laugh, nearly a cackle. “And I never thought I’d get to bang
you, Athena. I can’t believe you went down this easy,” he crowed like a rooster
at dawn. “I just
knew
you always wanted it.”

She waited patiently, felt him
adjust his weight, preparing to pull her grieves down around her ankles. When
he leaned back, she used that moment to swing the knife behind her back,
hopefully at his throat. But he was a gifted athlete. With a startled yelp, he
jumped back and let her go as the blade missed his chest by mere centimeters.
Now free, her legs collapsed and she caught herself on the bench and turned to
face him, knife held between them in defense.

“Ooh, hoo hoo!” he taunted her. “Little
slut’s got a little stinger. You wanna know what I did to the last stupid bitch
who tried to pull a weapon on me?” he asked in the most sinister voice she’d
ever heard.

She started edging for her M-16,
but he stepped sideways to block her path.

“I cut her fucking guts out with a
filet knife,” he laughed.

He pointed to the knife in her
hand.

“Just like that one there,” he
added with a crazed cackle. “And I’m gonna take that away,
fuck
you
,
and do the same to you if you don’t give that to me
now
,” he promised
with dead eyes.

Athena believed him.

“You’re sick, Stephen. You need
help,” she told him calmly, though that’s not how she felt at all.
You need
to be put away, you fucking psycho.

“Maybe. I think I am a bit off, now
that you mention it. Guess I always have been. You know I’ve had a bunch of
their girlfriends at one time or another. I’ve been doing this for years. You
know why?”

“I don’t care. Get the fuck out
now
,”
she hissed.

“Because I can! That’s why, Athena.
And there’s not a god damned thing you can do to stop me. I can’t believe it
took me so long to get to you, you dirty little slut,” he said, taking off his
belt. “I think you’re gonna be the best little skank I ever fucked. You’ll
never be good enough for Calvin again after all the things I’m going to do to
you. You think you’re ready to be my little slut?”

“Oh, you already missed that boat,”
she spat back. “You’re lucky you’re still intact, Brick. Why don’t you cut your
losses and go now?”

She waved the knife in as menacing
manner as she could manage, hoping he couldn’t see how bad her hands were
shaking. She had never been more scared in her life, but there was no way in
hell she was going to let this asshole touch her again.

“You’re not strong enough to fight
me off and you know it. I’m gonna take you just like I took all of the others
before.”

“Yeah, you said that already. I’m
betting you used drugs you chicken-shit.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk about
drugs. You stoners blaze up all the time. I just put them in a good mood. I had
them, alright. And not one of them ever told anyone about me. You know why? Because
they
loved
it,” he hissed, edging closer to her, both hands ready to
counter her move and take the knife. “You’re gonna love it too.”

“C’mon, Athena,” he begged. “You
know you always wondered. Let’s make it happen. I promise you won’t regret it.
You know I’ve always been one of your fantasies. And now you can have me all to
yourself. You’ll want to keep the memory a secret just like the rest. And when
I’m a rich and famous quarterback you’ll tell everyone how you and I had our
little romantic night.”

“You’re deluded, Brick,” Athena said
calmly, trying to reason with him. “You need some specialized psychological
help.”

“No, you’re the one who’s deluded,
bitch!” he hissed, and stepped forward to make his move.

She aimed the knife at him and took
her swing, but he was too quick, grabbing the arm and using it to spin her around
and pull her close again. Holding her in an unbreakable grasp, he leaned down
and began whispering all of the things he was going to do to her as he bent her
over the bench once more. With growing horror at just how sick he had become,
she screamed. At least she meant to scream, but instead her breath released in a
muffled whimpery snort as he waited until just when she took a breath to punch
her in the ribs and stuff her mouth into the box of dirty rags again.

With growing disgust and equal
horror she realized he must have done this so many times he knew exactly what
to expect, and when to expect it. But she wasn’t going to just let any man have
his way with her without doing everything she could. When he repositioned
again, this time making sure to keep both hands firmly held, she realized he
couldn’t block both of her legs. One-hundred-and-fifteen pounds slammed down
hard on the ends of his toes through one tiny boot. Though heavy, his leather
boots were not steel-toed. Absent the satisfying crunch of broken bones she had
hoped for, there was no doubt he was hurt. Brick gasped as pain shot up through
his legs, causing him to loose his hold. He fell back cussing and spitting
profanities.

He
had
done it all before,
and he had expected her to try to stomp on his foot eventually. That was why he
wore thick, padded boots. But he had been expecting heels or sandals or even
tennis shoes, not heavy armored boots with metal heels.

“You fucking bitch!” he hissed, hopping
in a circle of pain before once again lunging for her. But she swung in the blade
in the correct arc this time, forcing him back to protect his throat. He faked
another lunge and she jabbed. She was staying defensive and would be much more
careful from now on, he was sure.

“You had two chances, Brick. You
don’t get a third,” she spat.

“I don’t know. Don’t they always
say three’s a charm? I bet I get inside you this time. The longer you make me
wait, the more imagination I’m gonna use on you.”

Just go away!
She screamed
in her mind. “Get the hell out of here or I’m going to kill you, Brick,” Athena
assured him in as confident a voice as she’d ever used.

“Hey, Athena!” Sarah called from
down the hall. “It’s your turn on watch!”

Brick instantly composed himself,
stepping to the opposite side of the room and turning his back on Athena,
leaning confidently against the big steel double-doored fridge. Athena lowered
her knife arm as Sarah stepped into the room. Her friend looked between them,
at Brick’s back and Athena’s face, then down at the knife clutched in fingers
so tight they were pure white. She raised the M-16 almost imperceptibly and
Brick slowly turned to face the entrance.

“Hey, Sarah. How you doing today,”
he beamed his brightest smile.

“Fuck you, Brick,” Sarah spat,
taking the safety off of her rifle and staring at him coldly, as if willing him
to make a move so she could kill him. And that may in fact have been her
thoughts.

Athena quickly dashed over to grab
her gun from the sandwich table and turned. For the briefest of moments, a
shadow of fear appeared in the corners of his beautiful blue eyes and he
appeared genuinely scared. Both women eyed him with frozen masks bereft of noticeable
emotion for what seemed an eternity to him. But when that eternity had passed,
he was still alive. And with that knowledge, he regained his confidence.

“Ooh, I’m so tired. I think I need
to get back to my nap,” he mumbled meekly and slipped past Sarah and down the
corridor.

“We’ll talk some more later, Athena!”
he promised.

“Athena, did—” Sarah started to ask
a question, but Athena cut her off.

“—I’d better get up there on
watch!” Athena coughed and exited the room in the opposite direction of Brick’s
retreating back. “The sandwiches are done! Can you put everything in the
fridge?” she called down the hall as an afterthought.