THE SAGA OF THE DEAD SILENCER Book 1: Bleeding Kansas: A Novel Of The Zombie Apocalypse (4 page)

BOOK: THE SAGA OF THE DEAD SILENCER Book 1: Bleeding Kansas: A Novel Of The Zombie Apocalypse
4.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

T
he parking garage is nearly empty. I get the spot closest to the door. I take my luggage through the back to the elevator bank faced away from the desk.

I park my luggage in my room but leave off unpacking it. I wash my
face, freshen up from too much time spent in the hot and humid Kansas City morning. I dry myself over the air conditioning unit beneath the window.

I consider changing into comfortable clothes but I’m thinking about the Guardsmen. They didn’t ask for my ID. I could have spent the better part of an hour explaining why I’m here from Colorado, the nature of the job I was interviewing for and what the hell I’m still doing here when the manager hiring me is dea
d, etc. Sure, the sergeant’s tone might have been more pleasant, but in the end it was my suit and the Luxury Tank that got me back here to the hotel. It’s not the open road but I’ve got a bathroom, air conditioning, and a lot more freedom of movement than I’d have under guard. Or shot. 

I go over myself with the lint roller, do a round of breathing exercises. Then I head out for the elevator.

Angie’s face lights up as I step out. “When did you get back?”

“A few minutes ago,” I said.

“How was it at the company?”

“They said they’d be in touch.”

“I’ll bet. You checking out?”

“I can’t. The National Guard is locking down the streets.”

“Yeah, I heard,” said Angie. “Well, for what it’s worth, no one from the company called to check you out. So you’re still good to go on their dime.”

“Nice to know,” I try to say as blandly as possible, while my inner Poor Worried Bastard whoops with joy.

“Not that it matters. I can’t check anyone in or out with the network down. I mean, I could do it old school with a big wide book, but it’s no good until we can process the company credit card. We don’t have Internet, so….”

I can’t take my eyes off the bandage on her arm. She didn’t have it when I left earlier. I’m about to ask when there’s a loud roar, then the steady clatter of heavy diesel machinery getting underway. “I guess that’s the first trench,” I say.

“Yeah. Every park in the city. They’re having a televised service at six o’clock. Did you see the trucks?”

“One, the way I was coming. ‘Bring out your deceased.’ Not something you want to hear from a loudspeaker on top of a truck. Not in this century.”

“Yeah.”

I nod towards her bandage. “What happened there?
You all right?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I was bitten by the guy in 604.”

“What?”

“I thought he was going to try and kiss me the way he came at me with his mouth open. His tongue and the inside of his mouth—God! He’s making these ‘
unnnnh!’ noises like he’s retarded or something and I put my arm out to push him back and he grabs it and—oh,
gross!

“Where did this happen?”

“Officer Dalton came by to look in on us and I asked if he’d come with me to check on the sick people. To see if they…anyway, we hadn’t seen or heard from Mr. Devereaux in days so we wanted to look in on him first.” Angie looks out the glass front windows to the empty street. “Whatever you do, don’t go up on the sixth floor. It stinks! We’re gonna have to call in a crew for that.”

“Officer Dalton? There’s police out here?”

“This hotel, you better believe it! We got people taking care of us! Thank God, I think I would have died from just looking at what that creep did to my arm. Officer Dalton got the EMTs up here to clean and dress this. Still, it took out a chunk! He was
chewing
on it when Officer Dalton shot him in the head!”

“I take it they gave you something for the pain.”

“Yeah. I’d enjoy it more if my arm didn’t hurt so much. Still got that damn gun ringing in my ear, too. Guns are loud, you know? Not like on the TV.”

“The TV.
Yeah, I think I’ll go see what the latest propaganda is.”

Angie
seizes my wrist. “No! I mean, we can watch it here, okay? Please! I’m kinda freaked out right now.”

“I
dunno….”

“We’ve got all kinds of stuff we can cook in the kitchen! Mix something up for yourself from the bar! I’ll let you do whatever you want, just don’t leave me alone!”

“Ah, what the hell. All right.” As the words leave my lips I hear something like distant fireworks. Firecrackers on a string. The occasional boom.

Angie doesn’t seem to notice
. I follow her into the kitchen. “What did they give you for the pain?”

“Straight-up morphin
e. Yeah, I know, it makes me kinda loopy. I still feel that skin being…torn….”

“All right,” I say, turning the knobs on the fry vats.  “I see we’ve got cheese
sticks here. Let’s fry ‘em up.”

Angie
finds some chicken tenders and brings the bag to me. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know anything about this kind of equipment.”

“It’s all right,” I tell her.
I take off my jacket and hand it to her. “You’re in experienced hands, here.” I roll up my shirt sleeves, tuck my tie in between the buttons.

“You used to work fast food?”

“Does this look like a fast food kitchen to you?”

“No, no! I didn’t mean to offend!”

“Pass me that stack of baskets and liners, please.”

She does. “I’ll hang this up for you,” she says.

“Find a place to do it in here. I want it handy.”

“What for?”

“My wallet and keys are in there.”

“Oh.”

Not that I’ll need them for anything. I just want my jacket close. I drop the baskets into the oil, set the timers. Before long, we’ve got more than we can eat. Angie fills the little containers with honey mustard and marinara sauce. I click the fryers off and we enjoy our snack.

The bell rings at the desk.
Angie freezes, afraid to go out without me. I nod at her to wait as I roll down my sleeves. She rushes away to bring me my jacket, which she put on a hanger and hung from the kitchen employee’s coat rack. It’s less than a minute but the bell rings again as I’m walking with Angie to the front desk, where a police officer in full urban paramilitary gear stands with a guy in tennis shorts and matching polo shirt.

“This one says he belongs to you,” says the cop.

Angie laughs. “Oh, good!” She looks at me. “I thought it’d be good if you and Mr. Tanner got to meet each other. You’re both smart. You could help me hold down the fort!”

“We’d appreciate the help,” says the cop. “We’re spread really thin. I’ve got another three blocks to worry about beside
s this one. You the guy from room 1510?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry you can’t get back to your family—um, Mr. Grace?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not planning on breaking out are you?”

“No
. I got the memo.”

“Sir, please trust me when I say I’m not telling you this to scare you. Everything is locked down until we can get going with the burial of the dead. Once the people in charge are satisfied most of them are under then we’ll open the roads back up and things can start getting back to normal.
But not until then. You try and make a run for it on the roads they will light your—they will light you up. Trust me, sir.”

“Well, then, I’m with Angie holding down the fort. So what do we do?”

“Not much to it, really. You just have the authorization of the police department to do what it takes to protect life and property here.”

“Will we be issued weapons?”

“Do you have a permit?”

“Not on me.”

“Well, Mr. Tanner here had his concealed carry permit from Colorado. It means he has training. Sorry, but at least he’ll have a sidearm.”

“I’ll make do.”

“Really, it’s not gonna be a problem. They’re going to try and make this as quick as they can. They’ll be running coverage on the local channels if you want to watch.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“All right, well, I gotta go. Just stay put. You might want to go easy on your food, too. Even with the roads open we don’t know when deliveries are gonna start again.” The cop looks at Angie. “How you holdin’ up, Angie?”

“Mr.
Grace stuffed me full of chicken tenders. I just wanna lie down now.”

“Well, with Mr.
Grace on board you can probably do that. What I want to know is how you’re doing with the pain.”


I’m okay so long as I don’t think about it,” Angie says.

“I’ll try and bring an EMT when I check back on you all tonight.” Officer Dalton turns to Tanner and me. “Lock these doors after dark, or if you decide to
go to your rooms. We’ve only got so many locking down these streets. Believe me when I tell ya, though—if we see it moving we’re shooting first and gathering data for the report later! Don’t go outside looking for trouble. Don’t go outside looking for
anything
.”


Understood,” I say.

The cop pulls a card f
rom his top pocket. “Give me a call if things get out of hand. I can’t promise I’ll respond right away, what with everything going on. So try not to let it get out of hand.”

“I don’t see u
s having any problems,” I say, taking the card. “Thanks, though.”

“Like I said, I’ve got four more blocks to check up on.
Keep an eye on Angie for me.”

“Will do.”

Officer Dalton turns and pushes his way out the glass front doors. He turns back to us as he’s halfway through. “And don’t forget to lock these things! In fact, you might want to do that right now.”

I turn to
Angie. “I’ll get the keys,” she says.

“All right, then,” says
Officer Dalton. “Good luck!”

He sets
off across the front plaza. As I watch him disappear past the fountain I wonder why on earth we would need good luck during a funeral.

What the hell. I’ll take it.

 

 

 

 

6

 

 

Angie returns
with the keys and begins locking the doors. I look at the guy in the tennis shorts and polo shirt. “Is this all of us?”

“Most everyone in this hotel left last night
,” says Tanner. “I have to wonder how many of them made it back to where they’re from, though. Most of the airlines weren’t operational this morning. Now the roads are closed.”

“I’d be over halfway there by now if I’d started first thing.”

“You still might as well be on the far side of the moon. My kids are with their mother in Highlands Ranch, not too far from you. I look at it this way, getting myself killed trying to get through all those bandits out there, let alone the National Guard, won’t do them any favors.”

“Bandits?”

“Ever see the bumper sticker, ‘If It Weren’t for Physics & Law Enforcement I’d Be Unstoppable’? A lot of people don’t have their normal routine of going to work or whatever it is they do during the day to stop them, either. Not much on TV, and no Internet for the most part. If they’re not holed up in a basement somewhere eating all the chips and junk food they could carry from the nearest store then they’re out messing with people.”

“I suppose it’s all up to physics, then.”

“The city police were talking about how the state patrol pulled this one guy and his car out of a tree. But what ought to worry you and me are the ones shooting at cars on the highway for no other reason that because they can.”

“So what are you doing out of Colorado?”

“I’m a security consultant. I give presentations to company boards about doing business in depressed markets. I advise them how to brand themselves so they don’t appear part of the problem, how employees should and should not talk about what they do, and so on.”

“Then I guess you’re all we need. I don’t have a gun.”

“I’ve got to sleep sometime. You can use the one they issued me.”

“I’m going to need some training.”

“I thought you told Officer—oh! Okay! Well, we’ve got plenty of time between now and when the burials start. Probably ought to clean this thing first, anyway. Good time to get you acquainted with the basics.”

Which we do.
I’ve always meant to get a gun, but the general commitment involved with owning one put me off. You don’t just buy one of these things, load it and leave it in the nightstand drawer, hoping you’ll never use it.

And honestly, with all that hasn’t been going on for me these last four years,
I was afraid I would use it. Living in terror of leaking pipes, brake jobs, breakdowns. The constant drain on our savings. There were times I wished a heart attack would take me out nice and quick. Waking up to find myself alive was the greatest disappointment sometimes.

Other books

Spirits from Beyond by Simon R. Green
Night Fever by Diana Palmer
The Ninja Vampire's Girl by Michele Hauf
Foolish Games by Spiegel, Leah
The Man Who Quit Money by Mark Sundeen
Killer Spirit by Jennifer Lynn Barnes