Gravewalkers: Dying Time (30 page)

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Authors: Richard T. Schrader

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BOOK: Gravewalkers: Dying Time
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Critias was so stoned on
morphine that he couldn’t do much more than groggily nod his head
in agreement while Carmen sheepishly remained in a guilty
silence.

When Jim felt satisfied
that he had made his point, he asked Kevin, “Are these two going to
live?”


Nothing permanent,” Kevin
had confidence in his appraisal. “Carmen will be back to combat
readiness in a matter of hours. Marshal Critias requires bed rest
for a few days.”

Before leaving, Jim asked
Critias, “You really jumped all the way to that other
building?”


Like a hawk,” Critias
used his hand to demonstrate a drunken flying motion.

Jim looked to Kevin, “Does
everyone from where you come from have more balls than
brains?”


A king has use for both,
I think,” Kevin answered.

After a moment to consider
how good an answer that was, Jim nodded, “Yes. That is true.” He
eyed the copper-haired android circumspectly, “Bob told me
something I found interesting and I’d like your opinion, Kevin. He
told me that artificial intelligence had an inherent
danger.”

Kevin guessed the rest, “He
told you that the most efficient solution to every problem does not
necessarily fall into the realm of what people would generally call
goodness.”


Yes,” Jim confirmed. “He
told me that viciousness was often the shortest distance between
two points. Since you’re the genius of your kind, I was wondering
what you think about that.”


It is better to be loved
than feared,” Kevin explained cryptically while rightly guessing
that Jim would understand that answer to the Machiavellian
contravention. “Human life is always a short and uncertain thing,
King Louie, but history has such a long and romantic memory. Kleos
is the remedy to ruthlessness. Have the pride to be the inspiration
for those who come after you for thousands of years to
come.”

Jim asked, “Are you proud,
android?”

Kevin’s eyes did not reveal
their Luciferian super-abundance of superbia that coursed behind
them in his genetically enhanced brain. “In all humble honesty,”
Kevin stated, “I am the smartest being who has ever lived. Mankind
will honor me with love as one of their selfless benefactors. I am
a Prometheus for a new age.”

Before walking out, Jim
commented, “Bob’s son was named Kevin.” It was an explanation as to
why the tinkerer had chosen that new name for the android upon his
assembly.


He is more worthy than my
former master,” Kevin revealed. “I will endeavor to live up to
Bob’s fatherly expectations.”

Jim didn’t look back, but
he still asked, “What did your former master call you?”

Kevin answered, “He called
me Mister Brink.”

Carmen's injuries fully
regenerated by suppertime that same day while Critias remained
stiff and had a dappled covering of dark bruises. After the evening
meal, Jim invited the Denver pilot Bertram to join them for their
planning session on Critias’ trip to Houston.


I flew a C-2A Greyhound,”
Bertram told them about the plane they came in from the Denver
airport. “It’s a navy dual-turboprop with a powered rear ramp for
cargo. She has her own onboard power-unit that will start the
engines. That plane is a real tough bird that can take carrier
landings and catapult launches. She was fresh from a rewiring and
is like brand new.”

Critias asked the pilot,
“What about fuel?”


I filled it up before we
left so it’s sitting at about half. I figure she would reach
Houston from here in about two and a half hours, but she would be
sucking fumes with little left for taking a tour of the town and
nothing left for the return home. She will fly on diesel fuel so
you should have no trouble getting that most anywhere.”

Critias wondered, “Could I
drive a car up the cargo ramp and take it with us?”


Sure,” the pilot
answered. “You would still be way underweight for what she could
handle. It can’t be anything too big though and you won’t be able
to open the car doors. The cargo bay is wide open, but it won’t fit
in a truck. We left the ramp down when we hauled-ass out of there
and I cut the power so the batteries should still be good. The
amount of fuel you will need is way beyond a couple jerrycans if
you’re thinking of taking it with you in a car. You’ll need a fuel
truck or a set of pumps.”

Critias looked to Carmen,
“Could you fly it to that agriculture depot where we got the truck?
That had plenty of diesel fuel and it’s in the middle of
nowhere.”


Definitely,” she was
sure. “I can land on a country road a lot softer than slamming it
down on an aircraft carrier.”


If you can fly it,”
Bertram doubted because of her youth, “can you fly it
alone?”


Critias can follow my
instructions and he is also a gunship pilot,” she answered. “That
will be the least of our problems.”


Yes.” That reminded
Critias of something else he needed from Bertram, “Do you think you
could draw on a map the route you drove from the plane to where
Hatchet picked you up?”


Probably, I’ll need to
talk to the others so we could work on it together. In more than a
few places, we had to race through suburbia that was absolutely
crawling with nasty vampires. The positive thing about driving
through all those neighborhoods was that the infected wiped it all
out long before traffic jams became a problem. You will have to
keep moving fast if you want to have a chance to make it. We were
lucky in more ways than I care to count. I wouldn’t ever want to
try it again unless I was just as desperate. What could possibly be
in Houston worth risking your lives for?”


We have a lead on a
possible antigen,” Critias revealed. “I know it sounds stupid, but
any chance is too big to throw away.”

Bertram thought it would
not be easy to find a landing strip, “Have you put any thought into
where you might land in Houston?”

Kevin knew where they could
land, “There are several suitable runways. Unfortunately, none of
them are especially close to their destination.”


I have seen you two in
action,” Bertram praised their skills. “If you need an extra pilot,
I’ll go with you. I’m a King’s man ready to pay my debts. I keep my
word and don’t have any weak nerve.”


I appreciate the offer
and we’ll keep that in mind,” Critias told him. “For now I would
like you and the others to draw up a driving map. We will be
leaving in about a week.”


I have a car in mind for
you,” Jim told Critias. “You need to give me a list of anything
else you think you might require.”


I’ll have time to think
about it,” Critias promised patience with his aches and pains. “I
won’t be healed up for a while yet. I feel like stomped
shit.”


I’m sure Carmen will be
all too happy to nurse you back to health,” Jim said as apathetic
commiseration. “Kevin tells me you’ll recover quickly from your
bumps and bruises.”


Poor Critias,” Tony Banjo
mocked, “has to suffer a sickbed with Carmen as his nurse.” He
could not help but laugh, “I want to sign up for some of that
misery.”

Carmen needed clarification
from Tony, “What does a sickbed nurse do exactly?”


Sponge baths, catered
meals, and blowjobs,” Tony explained, “all
twenty-four-seven.”


Oh,” Carmen took him
seriously, “he asks for sponge baths and refreshment after wearing
the armor for too long.” Her memory of having done it so many times
in the past pleased her. With that said, she got up to leave the
table, “Come along my darling patient. You’ve had your catered
meal. For the rest of your rejuvenating treatments we require a
modicum of privacy.”

Chapter 11: Behind the
Unreasoning Mask

Carmen remained true to her
word; for five days, she nursed Critias around the clock so that he
did not want for any comforts. During the passage of those days,
Jim had his construction crews fortify the roof of the Customs
House with pickets of lances that would impale any ghouls who
managed to leap so far as to reach it. They also replaced the roof
door with a much stronger one. Bob and Kevin installed motion
sensors that would sound an alarm if anything larger than a bird
moved about on the roof while the scanners were active.

Bertram and the other
survivors from Denver completed a map of their drive from the
airport so Carmen and Critias could follow it in reverse to get to
the functional airplane they had abandoned there. Kevin delivered
his maps of where they should land in Houston and where to find the
building that headquartered Hale-Wellington
Pharmaceuticals.

Jim went to the room of
Critias and Carmen a few hours before dawn on the morning they
would depart so he could escort them to the Customs House where
their car awaited in a garage at street level on the south side of
that building.

When Jim switched on the
light then pulled the drape off the car, Carmen clapped in delight
with her excitement of getting to drive it, “It’s
magnificent!”


Five-hundred horsepower
from an aluminum big-block,” Jim told her, “a welded tubular frame
with roll cage, puncture-resistant tires, and five-speed manual
transmission. The body is custom-made carbon fiber composite. After
they found her, Bob added the armor that he made out of tool-steel
and the shafts from premium golf clubs.”


And I even like the
color,” Carmen stroked her hand down the blackish-purple
paint.


Her name is Betty,” Jim
told her. “I want you to bring her back in one piece if at all
possible. This car belonged to my father and I would like to see it
back in this garage after you’re finished with it.”


I’ll be as gentle as
making love,” Carmen promised as she caressed the car some
more.


Jim said in one piece,”
Critias joke with her, “not ridden hard right into the
ground.”

She gave Critias a raised
eyebrow, “Lucky for us, you have experience pounding the dents out
of your machines. I can testify to that.”


Touché,” he conceded to
her jibe. “We leave at sunrise so make whatever maintenance check
you think we need while I start loading our stuff.”

After Carmen checked over
the vehicle, she put on a ragged brown robe over her synthetic
diving rubbers to serve as her ghoul disguise. She wore her pistol
at her belt and had her sword nearby.

As Critias brought in a box
of survival rations and bottled water, he saw her finish the rapid
reassembly of a contemporary firearm then pick up a second one of
the same model to break it down, so he asked about them, “What are
those?”

Carmen tossed him the
assembled weapon to keep, “This has single and automatic firing of
ten millimeter projectiles with a screw-on suppressor. I couldn’t
find any subsonic ammunition in this caliber so it will not be
entirely silent. You should keep it. The engineers of this era
really outdid themselves with this design. They named it the
m
aschinenpistole-
fünf, but I think Jim’s people call it an MP5.” Carmen had
hers fully disassembled to check all the components for dirt or
wear, then rapidly put it back together without even watching her
hands; her eyes were on his.


I’m not a big fan of
their fire-sticks,” he checked it over dubiously.


You’ll have to trust me
then.” She dropped her assembled MP5 through the open roof hatch
onto her driver’s seat, “Just think of it like this car.” She
touched the smooth body of the vehicle, “It may be a primitive
chemical combustion device, but it sure can get the job done with
style, in the right hands.”


Alright then,” he agreed.
“Show me how to operate it.”

Carmen pointed out how to
operate the safety, rate of fire, and the reloading of the clips.
“It’s quite excellent up to a hundred meters and effective
well-beyond that. I still think it would be wise of us to use our
pistols subsonic. If anything goes wrong like last time, these are
small enough to use quickly where your teslaflux tactical rifle is
not.” She opened a duffle bag to show him some explosives,
conventional grenades, and two tubular portable rockets. “I also
found some other things in the arms locker.”

He asked about the tubes,
“What are you planning on shooting missiles at?”


They’re unguided
unfortunately,” she meant that they were only rockets. “As to what
we might launch them at, I have no idea yet, but if we see another
Grendel I’m sure you will get an inspiration.” Carmen loaded them
into the backseat.

Jim returned with Hatchet
and four additional armed guards. He told them, “The sun is coming
up. I have a man watching the street who will tell us when it is
clear for you to go out.”


We’re ready to go,”
Critias informed the King.


Radio us for as long as
you can with situation reports,” Jim instructed. “If anything goes
wrong before you can get the plane off the ground, we can come out
to pick you up.”

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