APOCALYCIOUS: Satire of the Dead (33 page)

             
Sir Regeliel’s expression eased into a look of embarrassment.  “Sir Mick, please forgive me. You startled me.” Regeliel sheathed his sword in one smooth motion and Mick saw that the hilt of the sword appeared to be made of bone. He thought that was odd as it wouldn’t give the wielder of it much of a grip, but what did he know about medieval weaponry? Mick slowly lowered his hands. “You have some impressive skills, my friend.”

             
“I cannot remember a time that I did not have my steel, M’Lord.” Regeliel looked as if he was trying to remember something, and then shook his head as if to say ‘never mind’.

             
“Do you think that you could show the girls and me how to use one of those?” asked Mick nodding toward the blade at his hip. Regeliel’s face lit up at the prospect. “I would like nothing more than to share my craft with you; of course, the ladies will need a smaller, lighter blade.”

             
“Do you have extras?” asked Mick. Regeliel laughed heartily.

             
“Where you have an armory of firearms, I have an armory of steel, M’Lord.”

             
Mick smiled. “You do know that you don’t have to call me that, right?”

             
“But I am your servant; the three of you took me in and showed me a hospitality that I haven’t known since the lads of Parkersburg. I am grateful,” the knight said and bowed his head.

             
“Well I’m glad that you’re grateful, it shows good character, but I would appreciate it if you called me Mick.”

             
The knight nodded. “I will try to get in the habit…and the ladies?”

             
It was Mick’s turn to laugh. “You know, I think that the girls like the whole chivalrous bit Reg. They would probably kick me out of the mines if I told you to quit talking to them like you do.”

             
“You are a strange man, Sir Mick,” said the knight with a look of confusion on his face.

Mick laughed hard at this. “Then I believe I’m in good company, Sir Regeliel.”

             
Nan ran into the gym calling for Mick. “I talked to a man on the radio!”

             
“Did you tell him the meeting place?” asked Mick. He felt his pulse begin to race. It was always risky meeting new people. This wasn’t the first meeting they had held and the last one hadn’t ended well, as Mia had to shoot an assassin the month before. When Mick went out to meet him an accomplice had sprang from behind a parked vehicle and held him at gunpoint. If it hadn’t been for Mia’s sharp eye and steady hand he would have been a dead man. “Did you tell Mia?”

             
“Of course I did, she is gearing up right now.” Nan fidgeted as she stood there. She knew that Mick didn’t want her going with him again. They had cleared the sniper position atop a ruined building across the street from the parking lot and had fortified the structure so they couldn’t be snuck up on by any of the dead.

             
“I believe that I should go with Sir Mick, it will be a good way for me to show my gratitude,” piped in Sir Regeliel. “I will gather my armor,” he said then walked in long confident strides toward his quarters.

             
“I think that’s a good idea, Nan. Go tell Mia that she is to stay here with you.”

             
“Tell her yourself, Mickey,” Mia said from the doorway. She was already geared up in her armor, her 1903 Springfield slung over her shoulder. Mick thought she looked more beautiful than ever standing there with her jaw set defiantly, and her almond shaped brown eyes focused intently on his.

             
“Have the radio set on channel four, sub-channel seventeen. I will radio you when I get there and again after the meeting,” Mick said and looked back at Nan. “How long before we meet?”

             
Nan walked to where her sister stood and put her arm around her waist. “One hour, with a thirty minute window,” she said softly. She felt like she was letting her sister down, but Mick was like a big brother to her and she always tried to do as he said.

             
Mia kissed her sister on the forehead. “I need to talk to my husband for a minute.” Nan walked out of the gym with her head down. She hated when there was any dissension within her family and she started to cry softly as she ran on her tip toes down the hall to her room.

             
“Mia, don’t be mad at me. I just want to be sure that if anything happens to me that you are around to protect Nan. After the last time, I don’t want to take any more risks.”

             
“Then don’t go,” she said matter of factly.

             
“We can’t just stand idly by and allow a good person go off by himself and get killed. Besides, after letting Regeliel in, I have realized that we need more people if we are to survive.”

             
“We’ve done pretty well so far,” argued Mia and started tapping her toe. It was a sure sign that she was getting ready to cry. Mick walked toward her and tried to put his arms around her but she shrugged away. “Don’t…”

             
“Mia…” Mick began but it was too late, she was crying. He hated that. He always felt so helpless when she cried. “Mia, please don’t cry.” She didn’t respond. He smoothed her hair with one of his calloused hands and bent toward her to kiss the top of her head. “I will see you shortly, Mia-more.” he said, in his secret devotion then he turned and left her in the room alone so he could get geared up.

             
A few minutes later he met Sir Regeliel by the main blast door. “Do you want a rifle or shotgun?”

             
The knight had evidently buffed up his armor, as it shined with the glints of flickering candle light. He held his helm in the crook of his arm. He patted his sheath. “This is all the weapons I need.”

             
Mick sighed. “Alright then, let’s go.” The two turned to exit the huge steel door.

             
“The hallway, garage and driveway are all clear,” said Nan, who had regained her composure, from her monitoring station. She hit the remote release on the door and it swung open.

             
As they were walking through the bulkhead Mick felt a tiny hand take his from behind him and he turned and saw Mia. Her eyes were still red from crying, but she had composed herself as quickly as her younger sister had. Like any family, there were stupid squabbles, but unlike most, the arguments were short lived. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. She pulled away abruptly. “You make sure that nothing happens to Sir Regeliel. Do you understand me?” She looked up at him intently. “I want to see the both of you in no more than three hours.”

             
Mick smiled. “I’ll make sure; the good knight still has to teach you how to use a sword.”

             
Sir Regeliel leaned forward. “M’Lady…I have sworn my sword to Sir Mick. I will bring him home.” He slammed a gauntleted fist against his breastplate with a loud clang.

             
“I lov…” began Mick.

Mia cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips. “Tell me after.”

Mick nodded and he and the Cavalier strode down the hallway side by side. “I think that I should meet the strangers and you can cover me with your rifle. It is the only way that makes sense,” said the knight as he laid a hand on Mick’s shoulder.

Mick nodded slowly, reluctantly “Yeah I suppose your right. I’m a pretty good shot, so you’ll be in good hands.”

              “I have no doubt, my friend.”

             
  Nan triggered the door to swing shut with an echoing boom. The heavy bar slid back into place and then the mine was silent.  Mia looked at Nan sternly and said, “Call Death Wagon.”

                                        
Chapter 36 –The Meeting Has Adjourned

             
Death Wagon pushed the hearse to the limits of its V-8 big block, the tachometer nearly redlining as the engine whined out. Normally he wouldn’t meddle with affairs such as this, but he could not deny Nan’s pleas. He had nothing against Mick Oswald, in fact he rather liked the guy, but it only concerned him because it concerned Nan. As far as this Regeliel character was concerned, he didn’t care in the least whether zombies ate his spleen with a spoon.

He wheeled the hearse into a parking spot near the store and waited. He looked at his watch. He still had about fifteen minutes to spare. He unzipped his leather motorcycle jacket and peeled it off, revealing a mass of tattoos depicting scenes of Grim Reapers and skulls with various angry expressions running up the length of both arms. Black pack of ink stood out in stark contrast to his light brown Hispanic skin.
Nan had told him to stay out of sight unless something went wrong. He opened the car door stood up and stretched. He strode confidently to the rear of the vehicle and reached into the back window and pulled out a long black piece of cloth and threw it over his head. He wore it in urban areas like a ghillie suit; it was mottled in shades of grays and black to camouflage him with the shadows; he called it ‘the reaper’s robe’. He opened the back door and rolled out the casket that rested inside and raised the oak lid. He reached inside and retrieved his Scythe, a Dragonov Sniper rifle. He hadn’t had the opportunity to use this tool for a while now but he was sure that he wasn’t too rusty to hit an unsuspecting target. Death Wagon preferred to stay neutral, but sometimes necessity dictated that he must kill some of the living that proved to be just as monstrous as the dead. The zombies were a pain in the ass, but if it hadn’t been for their miraculous reanimation, he would never have met Nan. How the dead had arisen was a mystery, and it was also a blessing in a weird way and therefore unimportant to him; the only thing that mattered to him was Nan. As long as she was happy, then all was well in the world.

He watched the Cadillac Escalade pull into the parking lot and he darted into the shadows. He ascended to the third story of the
Parkersburg and Wood County public Library, and waited as he sighted in his rifle. They would not be able to see him in the deep shadows of the curtained room.

             
Bodie and Daniel exited the SUV. They stood back to back holding rifles in front of them, on guard for any hungry dead. A handheld C.B. radio lay on the cracked black-top parking lot and it crackled to life about thirty feet away. “You get it, I’ll cover you,” said Bodie.

Daniel cautiously walked to where the two way radio lay on the blacktop and picked it up and said. “Yo.”

              “I will be sending a man to talk to you in a minute. When he approaches lay your rifles in front of you. If you don’t agree to this get back in your vehicle and go in peace,”
crackled the voice.

             
Bodie walked up to where Daniel stood. Daniel looked at his burly friend and asked “What do you think? It could be a trap, it could be the military, hell, it could be anyone.”

             
“I know, but it would be a pretty patient trap when they could have just peppered the parking lot with mortar rounds. I’m guessing it’s just people. Scared people just like us.”

             
“OK,” Daniel consented and then keyed the mike. “We’ll do as you say.”

             
“Keep in mind; if you stay here and do not comply, and I perceive your actions as a threat to my friend I have you in my sights.”

             
“Roger that,” said Daniel.

             
“You’re an idiot…
Roger that,”
said Bodie mocking his friend. Daniel smiled. Having a bro around who wasn’t afraid to dog on you really helped ease the tension. Bodie’s eyebrows rose and asked, “What…
the hell
…is
that
?”

Daniel turned to see a knight striding toward them; the steel plate shining in the sun and clanging with each heavy step.

              “Greetings,” bellowed the knight. They remembered what the dude on the radio had said and they placed their rifles on the pavement.

             
“Uh…hey…man,” said Bodie hesitantly.

             
The knight raised his visor, but with the sun at his back they couldn’t make out what he looked like. “I am Sir Regeliel of Graylocke. Welcome to Parkersburg.”

             
“This is a joke, right?” asked Daniel.

             
The knight changed his tone. “I am aware that I am not what you were expecting, but I assure you that this is no joke. I am a part of a small band of people who have access to many comforts, food, shelter and safety. If you are interested in joining us, then we are well met, if you choose to pass then you are welcome to leave as you please.”