Undead Fleshcrave: The Zombie Trigger (35 page)

“What’s the issue?”

“Band here says they just got put on the bill. From out of town. Name’s not on the list anywhere, I haven’t been made aware of squat.”

“Let them in. We had a band drop off this morning. Biblebasher pulled out of the eight pm tonight. Guess these guys are replacements. Cheers for filling in on such short notice. From out of town too? That’s dedication.”

Seth shrugged modestly as if he and his band of merry souls were in the habit of coming from miles away to cover the shortcomings of others every other day. His heart rate gradually calmed down now, the earlier obstacle now shifting.

SternBitch had another question for them before she was about to merely take their word for it.

“What are you guys? Do you play black metal? Or death metal?” Her eyes narrowed as she posed that question and Seth didn’t miss how she cast an eye over their various attires, never mind all the obviously BM oriented stickers adorning the guitar cases. He knew what she was aiming at and stepped in quickly before Dax could hamstring the operation.

“We play a bit of both,” he erred on the safer side of caution, since ruling out black metal entirely wouldn’t have flown. Hoisting the Subversion gear, as part of the ruse indicated they were, at least partially, enamoured by black metal.

“No black metal,” SternBitch admonished immediately, her voice cracking at them like a whip. “Death metal only. If you’ve been put on this bill, you know its death metal exclusive.”

Dax started to speak and Seth knew something of a smart ass protest was coming. He quelled that by acquiescing with the command, hoping Dax didn’t persist in spitting out whatever he’d planned to. He couldn’t say for sure whether his friend would intentionally set out to jeopardise the entire plan, merely out of spite, and his reasons for doing that were simple.

Of all those who eventually returned from their various jaunts outside the walls of Kathaarian, Dax was one of those who chose to stay in the suite where Seth and Scarlett spent the better part of the evening entangled in each other’s naked bodies, and while they were in their own bedroom, sleeping soundly by the time anybody arrived, their door locked to alert the latecomers that the room was claimed and occupied, there was no mistaking the looks on various visages of others also in the suite in the morning when he and Scarlett exited together. They didn’t attempt to hide it, or come out at different times, feign innocence, or any such bullshit that nobody would be buying.

Knowing that Dax was unsuccessfully trying to hit on Scarlett from day one, Seth was under no illusions as to how his friend viewed the emerging of him and Scarlett together from a bedroom they’d obviously been exclusive members of all night. It was written all over his face, and discovering later from Mark that Dax’s own pursuits to find ‘love’ out on the town were unsuccessful only added to the guy’s conglomeration of feelings, which seemed to run the gamut from angered, to betrayed, to shocked, and disbelieving, before segueing back through.

So having Dax fuck things up as some form of twisted payback to Seth, and probably Scarlett too for her constant polite rebuffs, wouldn’t have surprised Seth at all.

This time he didn’t, he just pasted on a scowl to match SternBitch’s and then they were allowed to enter, Seth hauling Black’s case, Mark with Tempest’s, and Scarlett carrying the bass guitar case containing Blizzard’s instrument. In fact, there were a whole lot more than just the musical instruments and this partly contributed to Seth’s apprehension as they sought to enter the Park. Of course, the lethal Blizzard Beast, The Funeral/Freezing Moons and the deadly beauty, Mother North, were ensconced in there, visible to the unknowing unsuspecting eye as nothing any more than guitars and perhaps custom cymbals, but so too were the firearms and ammunition lifted from the service station and the police. At least the guns belonging to Seth, Dax, and Scarlett. Two pistols, a shotgun.

Realising that there was every chance they could be searched, or run over with metal detectors, or at least assuming that it was a possibility, those taking firearms in elected to place them inside the instrument cases. Those not part of the faux band kept theirs on them. Just how they were going to get them in was yet to be ascertained, but that was for them to work out. Seth was remarkably surprised to find there were no metal detectors or things of that nature, nor were instrument cases made to be opened up to reveal any contraband. It put him acutely in mind of another concert. The Undead Fleshcrave show in Armada. Quo Vadis Bar. Just about devoid of security checks altogether, letting guys waltz in with full cases of beer in glass bottles.

Seth recalled those moments where bad feelings began creeping into him back then, the whole notion that something was going to go terribly wrong. Of course, he’d been dead right. Only it hadn’t been the thoughts that death metal brute Eric Barron and his buddies were going to be the problem’s source, they became part of the problem. Zombified freaks chewing bits of flesh off their fellow concert goers.

This time, he and his cohorts were going in with the prior knowledge of what happened when Undead Fleshcrave hit the stage for a show, or a truck trailer on a beach beyond midnight, any time they put on a musical performance, but it didn’t nullify the trepidation any. It served to enhance it even more. Seeing how many security guards and personnel—none of them being Undead’s assembly of Sentinels—were on hand, yet were carrying out the same non-existent checks for weapons and dangerous objects as in Armada, just brought the horrible feelings experienced then sweeping into Seth again.

He was naturally glad that the security hadn’t seen fit to raid the instrument cases or comprehensively go through them, or his gang would have been instantly sunk, but by the same token, he wondered how many other folk were strolling around the Park grounds with loaded firearms. It didn’t ease his mind on the suggestion that the whole festival was somehow a giant trap, regardless of the logic Black posed. There could be a veritable army of zombie killers, or at least people prepared to slaughter those they perceived were going to morph into zombies any tick of the clock. People with the mentality of the cops at the service station, the radical theorists on the radio and news reports. That didn’t sit well with Seth, but at least he and his friends had some sort of defence if shit went tits up in that fashion.

What was more, they were bestowed with the dubious honour of toting around the awesome weapons belonging to Subversion. Seth knew it was all for appearances’ sake and chances were he wouldn’t get to wield Mother North in any other manner than as a faux guitar, but in a decidedly malevolent way he really wanted to.  He wondered if perhaps some occasion might spring up requiring him to use Mother North as the killing device she actually was, and despite one part of him wanting it not to come to that, the other part of him thrilled at the potential opportunity to do so.

As the day progressed, if it weren’t for the twisted train wreckage of cogitations blundering incessantly through Seth’s mind, and the awareness of why they were there in Blackwater Park, it was otherwise exactly like attending an all-day musical festival.

Armada hosted a multitude of them in the past, ranging from ten band bills held in various venues to shorter half day prospects, infrequently bigger events, but never had they hosted something like this open air outdoors extravaganza. Though they all—or at least Seth and Scarlett—kept in mind their mission there, they found themselves enjoying the atmosphere, the music, the whole day in general.

They saw no sign of Undead Fleshcrave or of the Sentinels, and after entering the arena, none of them had seen hide nor hair of Black, Tempest, Blizzard and the others. Seth pondered whether that should be a concern to him, but considering his make believe band Plaguewielder were taking the eight pm slot vacated by Biblebasher, it was a fair bet that Undead would have an even later slot, and perhaps weren’t even on the premises yet. There was plenty of time to elapse before starting to worry about whether Black and company managed to make it inside the grounds.

So for the most part, aside from having to haul around the weighty weapon filled instrument cases, they slipped into enjoyment and metal fan mode alongside the plethora of others swarming into the place for a death metal fest.

It was debatable how much enjoyment Dax was having, considering Mark and Miranda had long since patched up their disagreements and were back on track, and as for Seth and Scarlett, it was obvious to everybody, including the absent members of their travelling party, that things had happened between the pair of them. Which must have been galling to Dax and aggravating the utter fuck out of him.

Consequently the fivesome made the conscious decision to all split and go their own ways, with the general idea being to cover more ground and perhaps see if any one of them could catch a glimpse of either the Fleshcravers or the Subversion crew. At least that was Seth’s reasoning behind it.

His main reason was just to be alone with Scarlett on something of an impromptu date, sliding the rest of their reasons for being here to reside in the back of his mind, ready to haul them forward when the occasion warranted.

Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was unwise, or even profoundly stupid, perhaps it was a masterstroke of genius. What he did know was that Dax wasn’t overly keen to be the odd one out with two other clearly coupled up sets of lovers, and besides, the logic of covering more ground as separate entities couldn’t be faulted, could it? Black may have disagreed with the notion of splitting up, but he wasn’t here, and it was plain that they had abundant time before they started an earnest search for where Undead Fleshcrave might be located. If they were indeed on the grounds, they weren’t somewhere immediately visible.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE-SCARLETT HISTORY

“That was smooth,” Scarlett remarked as Mark and Miranda trailed off, arm in arm, intent on checking out the set of one of the early afternoon players, the wittily titled Gravefuck. Dax was first to depart the vicinity, still with the remnants of a scowl hovering over his face, and as he strode off without a backwards glance or even any assurance he would be looking to meet up with any of them later, Seth wondered if his less than stellar attitude stemmed not just from the evident closeness of Seth and Scarlett, but also from the fact that he was not one of the chosen few toting the Subversion gear. Mark absconded the case containing Tempest’s gear and the other two guitar cases were still in the possession of Seth and Scarlett, the weight not seeming to phase Scarlett one iota.

Belatedly, Seth thought it might have been an idea for Dax to take some form of weapon with him; everything they had, including their knives, was in the various cases. It felt a little surreal to be thinking along those lines at what outwardly appeared to be a standard death metal festival, but Seth and his friends knew there was more to it than all these Blackwater Park townsfolk. Thinking along these lines now was fucked, but it was the way it had to be. If the Trigger was switched on here, hell was going to be let loose in a way that would dwarf the disasters of Armada and Noumena combined, and anything else along the way.

‘Wasn’t it just?” Seth grinned back, pushing the concern for Dax back into the shadowy recesses with the other troublesome thoughts. The guy had turned into the type of resilient firebrand who would be able to improvise, manipulate a situation to his advantage and utilise something for a weapon if the need arose. Once again, the impending threat of anything perilous occurring seemed a long way off. At least a whole lot of hours away.

“Any prime reason for it?”

“Absolutely. To spend time with you.”

“Not sick of me yet?” She chided, nudging him in the ribs with an elbow. “Not about to run away and get cold feet anytime soon?”

“Hell no!” Seth protested. “Are you kidding? Any time I spend with you is never enough.”

“You sound sure of that,” she was smiling, but a little sadness lurked behind her eyes. “We’ll see. Everybody goes away in the end.”

“Not me,” Seth was adamant. “I’m not going anywhere. No chance of that. And that I am dead sure of.”

He filed away that  little exchange in the shelves of his mind, the mournful expression barely veiled in the depths of her eyes, as if she knew something he didn’t, or had a reason, or something from her past make her utter that remark. He didn’t particularly want to dwell on it, nor was he about to press her for further details right at this minute. With the day opened up to them to share time together, free of everyone else- unless they caught sight of their Undead Fleshcrave quarry in here somewhere- he wanted to keep things as upbeat and positive as ever.

Because if events went south in a manner he was hoping they didn’t, there might not be any more chances to revel in her company, to build any kind of relationship, if that’s what was budding between them. He hoped so, and she seemed pretty happy to have it heading that way too, but perhaps, just perhaps, her sombre words resonated around the upcoming mission they were here to carry out.

Maybe it meant, successful or not, that afterwards, whatever the outcome, he wouldn’t be seeing her again.

He valiantly forced that suggestion from his head as he observed she was scrutinising him, an obviously somewhat concerned expression stealing over his visage as his thoughts wandered into these realms.

Abruptly, Scarlett smiled again and this time it was a radiant one, illuminating her beautiful face, the tinges of sadness dissolving, and she grabbed him with her free hand, pulling him to her. Her body measured against his, she pressed her lips to his mouth and kissed him passionately, her tongue darting between his lips. Their guitar cases clashed together as they embraced, the weights of the items shifting and thumping them even closer too.

Seth sure didn’t mind that, her body felt fantastic against his, brought wonderful memories of the night before when it was stark naked and gorgeously warm, entangled in his. Before he could get too carried away and completely forget they were in a wide public place surrounded by myriad festival attendees, metal fans and others curious to witness the impending heavy music spectacle, Scarlett broke the clinch. She stepped back slightly, enough to have a little space between them, though her hand remained on his shoulder.

“Good to hear you’re so adamant about that,” she said. “How about we go and find something to eat around here somewhere?”

“That sounds like a plan,” Seth nodded in agreement, though he would have much preferred to stand right here entangled in her arms. Maybe after setting down the weaponry inside the guitar cases though.

Though the Park was packed with people and starting to fill up even more, unusually attracting so many folk, with only a handful of less than notable bands having played, Seth felt as if he and Scarlett were there in some different plane of existence, to the exclusion of all others. He couldn’t quite believe the whirlwind storm of feeling and emotion for her that completely engulfed him, though he accepted it had been building for a while now, even with Julietta still hanging over him. He knew he was head over heels and his assertion that he had no plans to go anywhere was a genuine declaration. Now if only he could assure that he was still able to be around after this foolhardy mission to lay Undead Fleshcrave to rest was all done and dusted.

***

As afternoon stretched out and became evening, more crowds spilled into Blackwater Park to an eardrum hammering, thunderous soundtrack of death metal brutality and technicality, joining a boisterous assemblage that continued to scale up their enthusiasm for each subsequent band playing various stages and rooms, some of them simultaneously. With the apparent amount of musical acts playing ranging from lighter weight melodic death outfits proficient in 'At the Gates' styled riffs and abundant solos, to ultra-heavy brutal chugging monsters that took their cues from the subterranean vocal style and headache inducing percussive assaults, this meant many had to play overlapped sets. For those hopeful of making a marathon effort of catching every single band playing, it was impossible to achieve, though many tried, sticking around to witness some of one act’s performance before making a surge through the ever growing crowds to make it to another area where another band would be performing simultaneously.

Seth and Scarlett had no such aspirations. A large number of the bands were completely unknown to Seth, as black metal was more of his forte. He didn’t follow death metal to the extent where he knew each and every upcoming, unsigned, underground, or local outfits, and many of these bands on this massive bill were of those categories. Some, of course, he did recognise, at least by name alone, they were the bigger names, the sorts of outfits who were main drawcards for the death metal aficionado, though true diehard fans of the genre were fairly familiar with the majority of acts performing.

Since the duo were not diehards with a desperate need to see each and every performing band, as many of them as possible, or, in fact, any of them, they just enjoyed each other’s company, and the occasionally excellent headbanging tunes regaling the entire neighbourhood, if not the whole city, such was the pounding volume.

They drifted around at ease, catching bits and pieces of sets, sometimes sticking around to watch a song or two, usually entangled, one way or the other, in each other’s arms, or with Scarlett leaning back against him with his arms wrapped around her, the guitar cases on the ground at their feet. In these instances they kept watchful eyes on the items, aware that with a crowd this large, any one of the decidedly unsavoury characters could make a covert swoop at apparently unattended instruments.

Again, despite the whole barrage of sound, activity, and crowds swirling all around them almost all the time, Seth still felt that peaceful tranquillity as if he and Scarlett were completely separate from everyone and everything, like they were the only two people in the world once more. Even with his head being pummelled by a brutal ensemble of rapid riffing, brutal rhythms, insane percussive onslaughts, and bestial, cavernous vocal rumblings in a blend with laughing, hooting, cheering, shouting, and other ear battering noise, he felt sublimely calm and serene with her so wrapped up in his arms.

At other intervals they obtained drinks from the assortment of premises here set up to serve alcohol, but these moments were far and few between. The liquor was starting to flow freely and the alcohol outlets were perpetually packed out with drunken death heads and other rough customers looking to get even drunker as the afternoon segued into evening, so once they’d managed to struggle through the crush once or twice just to get hold of a drink or two, they elected not to subject themselves to that very often. Besides, Seth still had his flask stashed away in his jacket pocket, and though he hadn’t touched it since the wander off at the service station, he figured it might always come in handy sometime along the line. Like now, if they wanted to have a bit of a booze buzz.

Other times they sought food which was in proliferation throughout the park with vendors setting up stalls to cater for the intoxicated and revelling death hordes stricken with hunger pangs amidst their drunken carousing, headbanging, windmilling, and throwing up the metal horns. These places weren’t quite as choked with prospective customers as those selling alcohol, but there was still a steady flow of patrons rolling through, many impatient to have to wait around and potentially miss segments of the band sets they were keen to see.

Eventually, Seth and Scarlett managed to find themselves a nice private little spot to recline well away from the pounding hub of activity, taking their hamburgers and drinks with them. They wandered off, away from pulsating death rhythms and monstrous riffery shot through with insane solos and cheering louts, Scarlett leading the way with the refreshments while Seth insisted on lugging both guitar cases. Into the more wooded areas of the park’s darker regions, places were comprehensively shrouded in trees.

Nothing aligned with the festival resided back here. In the day it was a nice tranquil shaded place to go for a cool walk, at night it was dark and thick with shadows. Seth had no doubt he and Scarlett weren’t the first people here to do this, either during the sunlit hours or once dusk descended, it was definitely the ideal location for lovers or drunken couples who’d hooked up over the day to steal away and fuck in the dark, away from prying eyes. Naturally, that pursuit was fraught with the risk with the illicit added thrill of being spotted by somebody else with similar ideas, or merely looking to escape from the constant thunderous barrage of metal music.

Seth wasn’t exactly thinking that’s what Scarlett was intending when she suggested they find somewhere quieter to sit and eat their food, he merely presumed that eating their food in relative peace and quiet was the actual plan, perhaps also to discuss the situation.

The time when Plaguewielder were due to appear on stage in place of the absent Biblebasher would be drawing nigh soon enough, and yet, neither of them had laid eyes upon Undead Fleshcrave, any of the Sentinels, or Black and their other companions, they hadn’t even seen Mark, Miranda, or Dax since they’d all parted ways some time ago.

Seth was beginning to wonder if they’d made a mistake in merely assuming Undead Fleshcrave were even playing on this bill, possibly it was just all a coincidence that a giant death metal festival was in occurrence in this city when a zombie making death metal supergroup happened to be sojourning around the country dealing out apocalyptic tunes of terror. Come to think of it, he couldn’t recall seeing their name advertised on any of the posters or flyers he’d briefly glanced at each time he’d noticed one

What if Undead Fleshcrave wasn’t to play here at all, and their mission was one in vain, or, at least, one which wouldn’t be required? Meaning another day free of flesh-eating Zombie Triggered souls killing others and turning the place into a bloodied field of death. Did Seth dare hope for that? That this was just one big wild goose chase and they weren’t about to find their quarry here after all?

He knew if that was the case, it was only a case of prolonging the inevitable, but damn, right here and now, with Scarlett, he didn’t really want anything to intrude on how he was feeling, didn’t want these wonderful feelings of closeness, excitement, and passion to be destroyed by having to kill or fight, or take desperate flight from pandemic plagues of zombies.

Once they were far enough away into the more thickly wooded region, shielded by tall stands of trees and lower clusters of bushes, Scarlett aimed off the rough paths and took them deeper in. There was still some illumination here, but it was scant, even with a reasonably bright moon above, its fingers of light weren’t sufficient to penetrate through the leafy canopy. The activities off in the main body of the park where everything was in full swing would still be somewhat visible to them if they made their way back down to the path, though Seth was in no rush to do so. The noise, of course, was still prominent, but much less so way back here than it had been right amidst everything.

Seth voiced his thoughts to her as they both sprawled gratefully in the thick grass, his arms aching with a fiery burn from hauling both the guitar cases.