Not Everything Brainless is Dead (10 page)

Charlie kicked the desk with his fuzzy bunny foot. “It’s a wonder this place didn’t usher in the apocalypse years ago.”

“I should have ripped it off months ago,” she said, sifting through the listed contents.

The bunny yanked the pages out of her hands. “Yeah, we see just how well it went down when you finally did.”

She grabbed them back. “If only I had done some research… I may have been ruling the world instead of saving it.”

Dr. Malevolent folded the page with relevant information and put it in her pocket. Their next stop: the vault. Since the super villain had just finished emptying it, they did not have to look far, and Captain Rescue even made a game out of getting there first, a game that everyone else let him win. While the search wasn’t difficult, if not for the giant Victorian era wheel (That hunk of gold-plated metal was certainly worth more than many of the things kept inside, until Dr. Malevolent stole everything), the hero might have missed the vault completely. Captain Rescue popped his neck and strutted over to the bank vault. He grabbed the giant wheel and tried his best to turn it, but it refused to grant him entry. After an exhaustive fight, Freight yanked the hero back to keep him from injuring himself. Almost in tears, Captain Rescue fell to his knees and slammed his fists against the thick metal as he pleaded with the door to let him in. Not wanting to rob the hero of this emotional moment, Charlie waited before he approached the man. He finally reminded Captain Rescue of the wall missing from the side of the bank vault—a wall that would allow him and everyone else access into it.

“I knew that,” the hero said.

They left the bank the same way they went in—through the front door—and snuck around the side while simultaneously avoiding eye contact with the ghastly remains littering the street. Their old friend, the forever solitary and stoic door, greeted them coldly and refused to grant them access by keeping itself locked shut. Dr. Malevolent took one look at the door and then turned around and faced her lackeys.

“Who locked this thing?” she scolded. “I distinctly remember Boris here whacking one of you with it.”

The lackeys stared in defeat at the ground, and soon one of them raised his hand.

“If you someone survive this apocalypse,” she growled, “then I will make you clean a toilet or something.”

The lackey nodded.

Of course, since the wall surrounding the locked door was anything but intact, the survivors bypassed it entirely. The area beyond the devastated wall stored office supplies and paperwork—all untouched. Since Dr. Malevolent had no shortage of staples or printer paper back at her evil headquarters, she didn’t steal them. Her lackeys pushed aside the filing cabinets to reveal a perfectly round hole that led directly to the bank vault. One by one, the entourage squeezed through the tiny hole and into the heart of the bank. On the other side, the safety deposit boxes were all stacked into a castle, something done by Boris as he and the lackeys emptied the boxes’ into sacks. Dr. Malevolent took the piece of paper from her pocket, unfolded it, and held it a few inches from her face. Eventually, she cried out, “Ahah!” as Sherlock Holmes would after he and Watson cracked a case.

Dr. Malevolent huffed, walked over to the box, knelt down, and wiped away the grime. “Acme Corporation,” she read. “Well that figures, those guys are always up to no good.” She reached inside the safety deposit box and felt around, looking for a clue. “I don’t suppose anyone knows where Acme keeps their super-secret doomsday weapons?”

“Actually…” Captain Rescue trailed off as he pulled something from his utility belt. He slid the communicator into his ear. “Hello?” he said, tapping it.

After a few seconds, a voice spoke into his ear. “How can I be of service, sir?”

“Alfredo, would you look up on that thing you have there where to find Acme Corporation.”

“Certainly, sir...” He became quiet as he looked.

Dr. Malevolent piped up. “You didn’t even bother to ask if he was okay?”

Captain Rescue put his hand over the headset’s microphone. “Well, Alfredo can take care of himself. And even if he couldn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to pick up the phone.”

She shrugged indifferently just as Alfredo spoke back up, “Sir, there is only one location listed that’s relatively close to you.”

Captain Rescue clapped excitedly. “Oh, nice! And it only took you a few seconds to find it, how’d you pull that off?”

“I did an internet search, sir.”

“You crafty fellow, you.”

“The Acme location appears to be within,” Alfredo paused for a moment, “The Haunted Forest.”

Captain Rescue’s face went pale and he nearly bit off his lower lip. “Thanks, Alfredo,” He said distantly, distracted by his dreaded words. He shook it off. “Oh and if anyone rings the doorbell… don’t answer.”

“Certainly, sir. Though, I doubt zombie’s would knock first.”

“Oh good, you know what’s going on.”

“Goodbye, sir.”

Captain Rescue calmly switched off the communicator and slipped it back into his utility belt. He then proceeded to freak out. “It’s in the middle of The Haunted Forest!” 

“Oh, the forest? That’s not so bad.” Dr. Malevolent said casually.

“Not so bad? Haven’t you heard of the horrible stories of the things within The Haunted Forest!”

“People like to spread rumors that there are horrible things
everywhere
in the world.”

“There are horrible things everywhere in the world?!” Captain Rescue frantically repeated.

“That not what I meant at all.”

“Then why did you say it!”

“You really are stupid, aren’t you?”

Chapter 12: The Zombie Experience

Death and destruction surrounded the heroes. Obviously, they stood out, but Charlie, more than any of the others, stuck out like a giant blue bunny during a zombie outbreak should. As he and his comrades strolled down city sidewalks, buildings engulfed them on both sides; their opened windows carried ominous zombie winds that blew out from the depths of God-knows-where. The whole scene exemplified the current situation quite well—from the corpse lined streets, to the car alarms going off, to the group of ridiculously dressed madmen strolling through it all.

Trashcan by trashcan by telephone booth, Freight checked for zombie occupants. “COME HERE YOU WONDERFUL ZOMBIES, COURTNEY AND I HAVE SOMETHING WE’D LIKE TO GIVE YOU.”

Captain Rescue yelled down the street, “Wait for us you lunatic!”

Freight threw a trashcan lid into the air. “WHY WAIT WHEN WE CAN KILL… KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL!”

An awkward look appeared on Captain Rescue’s face, and he stopped dead in his tracks. The hero then took a step backwards, putting even more distance between them.

Charlie looked towards everyone else and said, “At least the nut bag is going the right way.”

The way mentioned was the way to the Acme Corporation Research and Development Lab, where this not-so-mild outbreak originated. The lab sat on the outskirts of the city, nestled within The Haunted Forest. It was home to miracles of the most insidious nature, but zombies were not even the beginning. Acme had their hand in hundreds of different endeavors. Their scientists brought dinosaurs back from the dead a good sixty years before those
other
people, and the hover boards in a certain movie were a design of theirs that a corporate spy blatantly stole. They were the masterminds behind the worst of it all: global warming. That little doozy was Acme’s crowning glory, and they were quite proud of it. 

But Zombies were the issue at hand, since they seemed compelled to eat anything that moved, and many things that didn’t. Even if they were just another clever ploy by Acme to rid the planet of the virus known as humanity, someone should probably deal with them, someone like Captain Rescue and company. They may not have been the best people for the job, but they were sure to do their best to save the world and everyone living on it. Well actually, Freight was tailor-made for this kind of job, since he ate and breathed to kill zombies—and most other living organisms. Stubbs, on the other hand, was just in it for the girls.

Freight paid no attention to his allies as they called his name off in the distance and begged him to slow down. He listened to only two voices: his itchy trigger finger and Courtney, who continuously nagged him about leaving the toilet seat up. This, coupled with his insatiable thirst, led him up and down silent streets. The occasional lumbering zombie met its end for the greater good of retaining Freight’s sanity—most likely a lost cause. After a few minutes of chasing after the psychopath, he eventually stopped, flung his shotgun over his shoulder, and cracked his neck.

He turned to the others. “I’M GOOD.”

Charlie, nearly out of breath, caught back up to the madman, the sweat burning his eyes. Freight watched in absolute horror as he ripped the plush bunny head from his shoulders. Not only did this decapitation cool the sweating human underneath, it also made the profanities he was about to shout even more impactful. Next, Freight found himself berated by a headless Charlie the Bright Blue Bunny Rabbit; Easter had quickly become his least favorite holiday. From this day forward, he vowed to deface any Easter Bunny effigies he came across.

Eventually, they came to realize another sound accompanied Charlie’s profanity flinging, a soft pounding resonated from somewhere off in the distance. Entranced, they spun in circles in search of its origin. Just before their dizziness caused any irreparable damage, everyone froze like a compass and pointed in the direction of the sound. If they had taken the time to look up, they might have noticed the spotlight traveling back and forth across the sky, which signaled to all around the party of the century happening just beneath it.

Captain Rescue leapt to the top of the nearest vehicle and strained his eyes to get a better look. After a few seconds spent staring intensely down the street, he noticed the spotlight and pointed its existence out to everyone around by yelling like a lunatic. The spotlight made whatever lay in that direction even more alluring. The fact that Acme lay in the complete opposite direction was not a concern. Saving the world could wait until the time came, if at all. Within moments, they grew convinced that the spotlight was more important than ridding the world of a few zombies.

“It’s a UFO!” Captain Rescue shouted frantically as he hopped up and down on the top of the car. “They’ve come to invade during this time of need!”

“What on Earth are you jabbering on about, that’s not a UFO.” Dr. Malevolent said shortly.

Captain Rescue slammed his foot down on the top of the vehicle. “It
is
! It’d recognize one if I saw it.”

She rolled her eyes. “But you wouldn’t recognize a spotlight? Because that’s exactly what it is.”

Captain Rescue hopped down from the car, pulled out his pistol, and stuck it to his temple. “I won’t let those tripods get me. I won’t! I’ve
seen
what they’re capable of.”

“Oh spare me, you buffoon.” Dr. Malevolent snatched the pistol from his hands and clocked him upside the head with it. “Now will you get a hold of yourself? That is not a UFO.”

Captain Rescue crossed his arms like a furious toddler. “Fine! But if the tripods come for us, I’m offering you first.”

Dr. Malevolent shrugged indifferently. “I’m okay with that.”

Gradually, the heroes came to realize that the soft pounding in question was actually ear splitting techno music. Apparently, someone felt a zombie uprising meant to party like your life depended on it, and the city held no better place to party than The Human Experience, the premier nightclub. As its neon sign rose from the horizon, the survivors noticed that someone took duct tape, crossed out the word human, and spray painted zombie in red. Judging by the artistic skill used, a zombie had done it; and the ones loitering outside the club gave strength to that assertion.

These zombies, however, did not exactly appear to be of the clubbing variety. A red felt rope corralled them into one large group as they went on about their usual zombie business, which included gnawing at each other and picking at their festering wounds. They seemed to have little interest in actually getting into the club. In fact, as the group neared, the zombies diverted their attention solely to them. Luckily, the red felt rope succeeded in holding back the horde. Apparently, it originated from the same factory as everyone’s favorite door.

Odder still, a zombie bouncer kept a watchful eye on the club’s entrance. It stood there, arms crossed and looking just as one would expect a bouncer to look. Sure, the top of its head might have been missing (along with a nice hunk of its brain), and sure, most of the skin covering its arms and chest had been flayed off, but it was a bouncer all right. Despite the unsightly appearance, the zombie smiled brightly and waved as everyone strolled down the street.

Charlie, clearly aware of badly a dance club full of zombies could end, yanked Freight’s weapon from between his fingers before the man had a chance to react. Freight watched in horror as his Courtney plummeted into Charlie’s trousers, but before tearing the bunny to shreds in anger, the giant man realized he had a point. Even now, Freight’s fingers repeatedly pulled at an imaginary trigger, and it took all his strength to cease the muscle memories. The burly man just hoped that Courtney would not have too many unkind words to say about being dropped down a pair of trousers.

Stripped of his significant other, Freight sulked down to a frame of his former self, and his hands felt naked despite the gore covering them. As he stared longingly at them, the tears welled in his eyes. He just could not find the words to describe his feelings right now. All Freight could think about was how fun it would be to wrap his hands around the neck of the next zombie he came across. He then looked at the zombie bouncer’s fast approaching smile and slid both his hands into his pockets for safekeeping.

“Welcome to The Zombie Experience!” the zombie bouncer said excitedly as he beckoned them over.

Charlie, Dr. Malevolent, and Captain Rescue all turned to Stubbs, who said defensively, the club’s techno music making it difficult to hear him, “Don’t look at me! I don’t know what’s going on here!” Stubbs hung his head low and added, “I guess it was stupid to think I was one of a kind.”

The survivors hopped onto the curb and approached the dance club’s entrance as zombies all around grew exceedingly excited. Teasingly, Captain Rescue stepped up to them, stuck his thumbs into his ears, and waved his fingers about, making funny faces.

The bouncer stepped between Captain Rescue and the dead. “Careful, those guys there are feral. They’d eat you right up.”

Dr. Malevolent glared suspiciously at the bouncer. “But
you
wouldn’t?”

He shook his hands in disgust. “Human flesh don’t agree with me.”

Her suspicious glare had not faded.

“Give us one reason we should blow you all to smithereens,” Freight commanded of the bouncer. Without Courtney between his fingers, Freight no longer felt the need to scream everything he said to people. The others were quite intrigued by the sound of his voice when it was not being forced down their respective throats.

The bouncer pointed the undead. “These here zombies like loud music, it keeps them entertained. If they’re in here, they’re not out there biting things.”

While everyone else argued about how big of a trap this was, Captain Rescue, beckoned by the large double doors, strolled towards the nightclub. The shattered glass, jagged and covered in all sorts of nasty stuff, implied that some sort of tomfoolery happened inside. The hero leaned in and tried to decide what coated the doorway. While the goop sure looked like the nightclub patrons after being torn to shreds, this could have been the aftermath of an innocent food fight. Captain Rescue held the door open and ushered the others into the club.

Charlie stepped up to the bouncer. “If this is a trap, you will be sorry.” The bouncer simply backed away and held its arms up innocently.

Dr. Malevolent turned to her lackeys. “You guys should really stay out here, if you enter this club chances are a few of you would no doubt be eaten before we leave.”

The lackeys nodded at each other. Secretly, they knew that it was only a matter of time before each of them met their end in an excruciating fashion.