Gravewalkers: Dying Time (16 page)

Andy continued in reverse
to pass out of that valley. Its southern end was another
hundred-meter stretch of underground tunnel that exited off the
wooded park grounds out into the urban city environment. The track
left the property on an elevated trestle just as it did on the
northern edge. The truck would have toppled down to crash on the
street below, but Andy turned their course just before they left
the cover of the woods there. He followed a narrow lane they had
blasted through the retaining wall on the west side in a fashion
similar to the Vineyard driveway. A moment later, they exited the
park’s trees onto a city street. Andy performed a practiced
jackknife reversing turn and then accelerated dramatically forward
to the west while he triggered onboard flamethrowers to scorch the
infected foolish enough to use that roadway as feeding territory.
Flamer burns could not fully disable infected, but it frequently
left them blind for many days and always inflicted terrible agony
on them. As stupid as infected were, they liked to return to places
with good food and avoided places that got them roasted
instead.

From a gun port, Critias
watched flaming infected dash about as they inadvertently
oxygenated their fires and screamed in their underserved suffering.
Every one of the ghouls without exception had once been a human
being. Plague victims or not, they had become predatory,
infectious, and far too dangerous to pity. The regeneration every
ghoul possessed insured that their nerve endings were ideally
suited to feel their flesh crisp and blister from the heat of the
flames. They felt pain exceptionally well and disliked it as much
as any creature.

The road to their
destination was wide and clear of obstructing vehicles. Andy drove
fast as he knew the limits of their truck and used them all. Their
destination was so close and their rate of progress so swift that
all the excitement of the journey made the trip seem quite
brief.

The capital of King Louie’s
power had once been a courthouse building of the civil authority
and it remained an imposing magisterial fortress of limestone. The
hundred meter tall tower stood in a direct-line through the legs of
the monument at only a kilometer distance. The top-most quarter of
the building appeared as though an Ionian Greek temple with a
pyramid roof had landed atop a city skyscraper. The entry to the
building had a facade reminiscent of the Arc de Triomphe with two
additional columns in the center. That frontage supported a
Forager-made rigid barrier of welded steel that covered and
enclosed a courtyard like a circus tent of birdcage that protected
an exterior safe-area the ghouls couldn’t enter.

From his gun port, Critias
saw that all the windows of the fortress featured steel angle-iron
bars that shielded the interior from any hunters audacious enough
to climb the outside.

By monitoring the camera
views taken by his helmet, Carmen could tell what Critias studied.
She commented, “It is ironic that springy steel bed-frame rails
became a pivotal resource for ensuring the security and continued
survival for the whole human race.”

The King’s Tower had its
own highly proficient work teams that waited in hiding to receive
Big Joe into the barrier cage. When the truck arrived, they rushed
out to operate flamethrowers that repelled infected while other
laborers prepared to open a giant gate that would let the truck get
inside. Riflemen stood stern and ready to immobilize any ghouls
clever enough to present a threat. Permanently killing the infected
was not their duty since the unwanted bodies would collect in the
area. They knew how to inflict disabling wounds that would last
only long enough to suit purpose, knowing the freaks would later
regenerate to wander off on their natural way. Those crews had
rehearsed bringing in Big Joe with safe expediency and performed
that duty once again with polished efficiency.

Andy turned Big Joe wide to
the left then came back with a hard right to enter a chute of
welded rails that were just wide enough to allow the vehicle
between them. Any ghouls inside that restricted lane suffered the
wrath of Big Joe’s plow. Any infected that chased up from behind
had no space to get around the truck as it nosed into the
gateway.

The crews opened the gate
high at the last instant so the truck passed through. They loosed
flamethrowers and fired a few suppressed rifles to discourage the
tag-along ghouls enough for them to close the gateway
afterward.

Andy pulled the truck in
through the waiting doors of a huge sheet-metal shed that
completely hid the truck and everyone else from sight. The crews
raced in after the truck so that once they closed the doors with no
one remaining outside, the howling ghouls would soon lose interest
in snarling at what they couldn’t see.

A team of workers used a
fire hose to blast the exterior of the truck to remove any bits of
infected that might be clinging to it and wash that down into the
sewer. Only after they finished that cursory decontamination did
they bang on the rear door to alert the occupants that they could
come out.

No one was jovial or
talkative while they unloaded the transport’s cargo onto pallets so
a forklift could then move it up an inclined sheet-metal tunnel
that connected to the front entrance of the main building. Austere
severity was the rule of their labors and should anyone falter from
that discipline one of the officers would scold them for
negligence.

Grim guards with ready
assault-rifles made certain that no one entered the building before
they had submitted to the rigorous counter-infection protocols.
They made everyone strip naked and then scrub themselves with soap
and cold water. Any badly contaminated clothes went into a garbage
barrel and they placed every other possession into baskets that
other specialized crews would thoroughly decontaminate.

Medical officers inspected
everyone in the nude freshly washed. They searched for bites,
scratches, or other hints of possible infection like an irritable
nervousness, cold sweating, or a telltale sagging of the eyes. Only
after a person had their certification as being clean could they
then enter into the King’s Tower.

Fat Jack purposefully
followed Carmen so that she would be between himself and Critias.
When the medic spent too long examining her, Jack spoke up, “Yes,
she has an incredible body; meanwhile the rest of us are getting
ready to beat you with shoes. Why don’t you take a picture then tug
yourself to that later?”

“
Sorry, Jack,” the
inspector apologized to a man who was essentially second only to
the King himself. “I’ve just never seen this woman before and she
is a bit,” he sought for a word.

Jack offered, “Playmate? I
just want to be clear on this, that you want to examine her nude
body all morning to see if it gets even more fabulous?”

The medic sent her through
rather than admit Jack was right; he had planned to examine her for
as long as it took him to discover at least one human
flaw.

The building’s main entry
lobby was like a jail with its two rows of welded cages akin to
prison cells; three of them held a single occupant. Digital clocks
on their doors counted down from twenty-four hours, time enough to
see if the tenant turned into a ghoul that they would destroy or
should instead go free as a false alarm.

A woman from
Decontamination Services returned Critias and Carmen their clean
teslaflux pistols that had never been out of their holsters that
morning. “Take your showers over there,” she pointed the way, “and
remember to remain armed at all times.”

They walked to the hot
showers where they could scrub themselves clean before they
dressed. Men and women showered side-by-side as another practice to
expose any infected individuals before they had sufficiently turned
then became a genuine risk to the community as a whole. Critias
found himself showering between Carmen and Penny Welder.

Penny made conversation as
she shampooed her hair, “So you two are an item then?”

Nearly three hundred years
had done its work on the English language as well as the cultures
that spoke it, so Critias wasn’t always familiar with the
colloquial speech of the era. He hesitated to answer because he was
unsure if Penny asked if they were in a committed relationship and
he was unsure how Carmen would react since saying the wrong thing
risked an unpleasant reaction from her if she didn’t
agree.

“
Yes,” Carmen answered for
him. “I would have him topping off my batteries right now if this
wasn’t so public. He’s shy about displays of affection.”

“
I’m not,” Penny said
about being shy. “So Critias, do you two swing?” She stared right
at him as she awaited an answer, “I really could go for a good
topping-off myself right about now, with an audience or otherwise.”
With her hands in her hair, her raised arms only made her breasts
more impressive; the soapy water that dripped from them didn’t hurt
the view any either and Penny made a point of all those facts just
for the benefit of her invitation to them both.

Once again, Critias was
cautious about her meaning since what he felt was most likely her
intention seemed both dangerous and improbable.

“
She is asking us if
we
ménage à trios,” Carmen said without
any obvious interest or
indignation.
“Penny is beautiful,” she pointed out the obvious to him. “She
shaved this morning, so I can’t say if she’s really a blond. I just
love the shapely curve of her spinal column. It’s especially
lovely. Would you like me to show it to you?”

“
No,” Critias told Penny,
“we’re committed and rather old-fashioned about those kinds of
things.” He gave a cautious eye to Carmen. Penny had overlooked
Carmen’s offer to pull out her spine and show it to him, but the
message had been perfectly clear to Critias. Carmen operated
directive-free and she had just answered his question if she
experienced jealousy, not that he was interested in Penny anyway.
He had enough relationship problems already with his unpredictable
android and in truth, he found Carmen’s covetousness comforting,
and her light-breasted athletic figure far more
attractive.

“
Too bad,” Penny shrugged
off the rejection. “If either of you change your mind, I’ll still
be interested.”

The same cleaning woman as
before pulled a small wagon to bring Carmen and Critias their
belongings. The decontamination crews had used microwave ovens or
wands that jetted scalding steam to destroy any cellular traces of
infection that might have imbedded in their clothing or equipment.
They had the experience and the good sense not to accidentally
damage anything by using an improper method.

After people dressed, they
usually descended to a lower level of the Tower using a broad
flight of marble stairs. Fat Jack waited at the top of them for
Carmen and Critias to arrive from the locker room ready to
continue. He said, “I promised to introduce you to the
King.”

“
I need some of the
supplies we brought with us,” Critias told him, “and we have that
gift for him that I showed you.”

Fat Jack took them through
that floor to a room where the new salvage awaited transfer
elsewhere. A guard there made sure nothing got touched without
proper authorization. They used a cart to remove the containers
with the android, the weapons, and the technical equipment they
reserved for their own use. Critias added his mechsuit to the pile
and then they followed Fat Jack as he led them to an
elevator.

Jack gave them a tour as
they walked, “This building is mostly about the Foragers; our
apartments are upstairs and we use this entrance for getting to
Foragers’ Castle then back again.”

He pointed out a side
chamber that had every sort of welding equipment and metal
fabricating tool in redundant numbers. Another chamber was where
the Outfitter Department had upkeep workspace and general storage
related to Forager body armor and splash protection. Yet another
chamber was a like area the outfitters used that related to various
weapons, the requisite ammunition, and gadgetry attachments.
Civilized electric lighting illuminated everything.

Jack continued, “King Louie
has the top for himself, Tinker Bob, and his bodyguard Hatchet.
They’re all fine chaps; I’m sure you’ll like them. My apartment
here is outstanding of course. If the King doesn’t give you
quarters right away that are to your liking, you can stay with me
until you find something better. You can believe that I have the
space.”

Critias wondered if their
economics was anything like his own time, “So how does everyone get
paid?” The orbital colonies took a staggering loss when Colonel
Walker lost all his dozers and tanks with an ungodly amount of
other equipment in Chicago. It was such a setback that Critias was
certain the Marshal Service would have to go back in there to
reclaim the vehicles at least.

“
Everyone works in some
fashion or other,” Jack explained. “The more risks you take for the
betterment of everyone else, the greater the bonuses are. No one
has to ever so much as see an infected if that’s their preference,
but staying safe isn’t the fast-track to getting a bigger apartment
or other luxuries. I guess the answer to your question is that King
Louie owns everything but the personal possessions. People try to
earn his respect and he rewards the faithful their due, not a job I
envy, but he’s done a fine job of it since the burden fell on his
shoulders.”