Chapter 2: I Have No Memory of This Place
A/N: Not much to say except enjoy!
Abigail 'Misty' Briarton
Green Run, Washington
0200 Hours
392 Days After First Infection
I woke with a start, sweat pouring down my face as I tried to control my breathing. That's the fifth time this week that I've had that dream. For some reason I keep dreaming that the safe haven we call home gets overrun and I'm the only survivor, left to deal with the reanimated corpse of my best friend since first grade, Marlton.
Oh Marlton. Sweet, nerdy, Marlton. Each dream is different though. The order of who dies doesn't change but the way they die is what changes, each more gruesome then the last, but the outcome is always the same. I'm left alone, the farm is quiet, and bodies of dead Z's blanket the ground. I turn around and there he is, same thick rimmed glasses, same pocket protector, and same calculator watch. His eyes though, the same startling blue that I've sometimes caught myself staring into, have been over taken by a bright evil glow. Gone are the eyes that were filled with arrogance and hidden kindness, now replaced with blank eyes filled with anger and hate. I shook my head, I need to stop thinking about it and just get to sleep. I laid down again and shut my eyes. But no matter what I did the image of an undead Marlton walking, or crawling in one case, towards me kept moving to the front of my mind making it impossible to get back to sleep.
I got up from my spot on the couch and decided to see if Marlton was up fiddling with one of his contraptions again. Before leaving the room I remembered to put on my shirt and tied it in my usual fashion. After securing my fathers belt, with a new Bowie knife in the sheath, and his gun onto my person I started up the stairs in the kitchen to the second floor of the small farmhouse.
After reaching the second floor landing I saw that not only was his bed empty but the entire room as well. Panic started to well inside my chest as I thought that one of my dreams had come true. I started looking around for any trace of my missing friend, anything that could tell me where he is. Suddenly the sound of electricity broke the silence and caused me to nearly jump out of my skin. Thinking it was that electric man again I pulled out my Bowie Knife and spun in a circle, searching for that freak of nature. The silence was once again broken by the same sound of electrical current streaking through the air, only this time it sounded like it came from outside. I cautiously walked onto the balcony in case it was there.
Upon looking out the doorway I saw that the only thing up here was the strange box that gave up a random weapon, causing us to aptly name it the Mystery Box. I heard the noise again, only this time there was light to accompany it coming from the shed. The shed, of course. That's we're Marlton does most of his tinkering and whatnot. Relief washing over me I decided to go down and see what my favorite nerd was up to. After reentering the kitchen I decided to open the fridge and grab my spare gun, SCAR-H. It was a nice little gift from Mr. Boxy a few weeks back. After slinging the strap over my shoulder I made my way out the side door and down the path that lead to the shed. I looked through the side door window to see Marlton sitting at his workbench, hunched over a new project most likely, completely lost in his own little world while small arcs of electricity flew out of the makeshift turbine next to him and into what ever was on the table. I thought about scaring him but decided against it as over the past year we've both developed a twitch reaction that turns us into the shoot first, ask questions later type. I let the SCAR-H hang from the strap as I brought my right hand up to knock. Nothing. I knocked harder this time. Still nothing. I was getting a little annoyed by this point and was about to shout his name but remembered that no matter how safe we think we are, something bad could always happen. I shuddered as my dream floated through my mind or a split second but it thankfully went away just as fast. Forgetting about the twitch reaction I swung the door open and marched in, slamming it shut behind me. The resulting sound of wood slamming against wood caught his attention and caused him to fall backwards off his stool with a very 'manly' yelp. I couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his misfortune. His head snapped to attention, turning to look at me.
"Misty! What are you doing here? And why didn't you knock first?!" He asked as he hoisted himself off the ground.
"I did knock, twice. You were just to engrossed in, whatever it is you were doing, to notice. What are you doing anyways?" Genuine curiosity in my voice as I walked over to the workbench.
"Oh, I'm just once again using my title as the resident genius to help solve a little problem we've been having." He told me with arrogance dripping from his tongue at the genius part. He looked over at me with a large smile that quickly dropped as he saw my 'get to the point nerd' face. A look I've used on him many a times.
"Right, uh *cough* it's a device that will help rid us of our pesky electrical friend." He said with a hint of nervousness.
"Thats great, but what is it?" I asked with a hint of impatience in my voice as I looked at the tiny device on the table, which seemed to be drawing power from the turbine.
"Well my dear Misty, this is what I like to call Galvaknuckles. You see, I called it that because-"
"Yeah yeah thats great Marl, but what does it DO?" I cut him off before he could go on a long winded rant about the name.
"I was getting to that." A little miffed that I both cut him off and that I didn't use his full name. "What it does is hold a pre charged amount of electricity and dispels it when the metal plate here touches anything that conducts electricity. What I'm hoping for it to accomplish is that the electricity dispelled by my Galvaknuckles will counter the energy signature of the Avogadro, thus creating a chain reaction within him at an atomic level and causing whatever force that keeps him together to dissipate. And eliminating our problem." He finished and in took a generous amount of air.
"Really? You think that it could work?" I asked, deciding against telling him that I didn't understand a single word he just said. I was so lost to what he was saying that even the weird name he gave for the electric guy passed by me completely.
"Theoretically? Yes. Practically? No, at least not with the amount of power it has now. This turbine, though a work of genius," smugness alert. "is rudimentary at best when it comes to recharging electrical equipment. The amount of power needed to fully charge the Galvaknuckles to full would take a whole field of these."
"Why not just take it down to the power plant and plug it in there? I'm sure it's got the energy you need."
"No no no, I can't. Well it's not that I can't, it's more like I won't. I got the power back on purely by luck. Do you know how damaged all the equipment was? Over half of the circuit boards were fried, consuls smashed, and wires cut. It's just a good thing we only needed to power a few small sections of Green Run or else the power wouldn't have been able to turn on at all. I can't risk destroying our only true source of electricity on something that might not even work." He looked a little down at the fact that even with his vast amounts knowledge he couldn't get the power station back to full power. I don't blame him though, he's not a miracle worker.
"It doesn't matter anyways because I'm still missing a key piece to finish the handle. More accurately I need a sufficient amount of rubber to insulate the handle from the near lethal amounts of electricity flowing through it." He let out a sigh of annoyance.
"Wait, if the handle isn't insulated yet, why are you charging it?" I asked.
"I'm charging it because I wanted to see if the plate would hold the charge needed to deal with our problem." I don't think he understood my question so I decided to be more specific.
"Okay, but what happens when you've tested that? How are you gonna get rid of the charge without touching it."
"I, uh, shit." His face fell at his obvious lack of forethought. "I guess because its not fully charged it should be fine. I think." The uncertainty in his voice was not lost on me as he slowly reached towards the device.
"Wait! How much damage could it do if it was fully charged?" I couldn't keep the worry out of my statement.
"If it was fully charged it could essentially kill me." I took a short intake a break at this new information. "But because its not even one-fourth charged, at least by calculations, it should only give me a mild shock that is akin to a static shock." He explained as his hand inched closer to the device, twitching ever so slight as it got closer in anticipation for whatever form of pain would still be coursing through his hand. When his hand was floating only inches over the metal plate his eyes shifted to look at me. With a nod from me he closed his eyes and sucked in a breath as he dropped his hand onto the device.
Nothing happened.
He opened his eyes one at a time to look at what he assumed to be a very powerful, and very deadly, object. With a groan of frustration he picked up the entire thing and started moving it around in his hands, pressing tiny buttons and the underside of the plate that I haven't noticed before. All the while he was doing this he kept explaining and ranting about equations and electrical power or something. Little did he realize that everything he was saying was flying right over my head. He would have been better off ranting to a brick wall.
"-and I spent so much time calibrating the input and output of the electrical feed from the power core into the distribution plate that there shouldn't be a reason why is not working." He sucked in a large gulp of air after he finally stopped. While this was happening I noticed a small little switch on the side that he must have missed.
"Did you try turning it on?" I asked him nonchalantly.
"Turning it, of course I turned it on Misty. I am an indisputable genius, not some slack jawed grunt worker like Russman."
"Then why does this switch point to 'Off'?"
"It, it does not. Your just messing with me." He flipped the Galvaknuckles over in his hand. "Oh, well that's illogical. Why in the world would I AARGG" he was cut off mid sentence because when he flipped the switch to 'On' all the pent up power was released into his hands, causing him to drop it onto the floor. He followed not long after and fell on his knees, clutching his left hand which was the one that was touching the plate.
"Oh my God! Marlton, are you all right? Come on honey speak to me!" I kneeled next to him and started shaking his shoulder, trying to get some sort of answer. He started shaking so I assumed he was crying but that was until I heard him laughing. This idiot could have died and scared me half to death and he has the never to laugh.
"Ha ha YES!" He suddenly shot up off the ground with the Galvaknuckles in his hands, obviously drained off all power.
"What I your problem Marlton? I though you were hurt!" I stood up and yelled at him. He flinched at the volume of my voice but the smile never left his face.
"No Misty I'm fine, see." He showed me his hand and flexed it in example. "The shock just surprised me is all."
"That still doesn't explain why your laughing like an idiot." I said as I crossed my arms across my chest.
"Don't you see, the pain from the shock I experienced is a good thing. It mean that my calculations were wrong, but in a good way. This means that it hold more power than I originally hypothesized."
"Meaning?" I was getting bored again.
"It means Misty my dear," I decided not to point out hi choice of words because this is the first time he's talked to me like this without blushing and I wanted to see how long it lasted. "that I can charge the Galvaknuckles with very few turbines. I just need to head into town and get the parts necessary to build another and also find a sufficient amount of rubber to insulate the handle. Maybe I can build a dial that can change the amount of power is dispelled with each punch, that way I won't waste it all in one hit." He started to talk to himself so I decided to butt in.
"Okay then," I hoisted my SCAR-H onto my shoulder. "let's go." That seemed to get his attention.
"Wh-what, what do you mean 'let's go'? It's," he paused to look at his watch. "three in the morning. We can't go now."
"And why not?" I let my gun hang at my side in my right hand while I place my left on my hip.
"We-well it's dark, er darker, and the others are still asleep." I let out a sigh, he still doesn't get that I'm a strong girl and can take care of myself.
"So, who knows how much time we got before that electric freak shows up again. We need that little doohickey of yours working as fast as possible."
"Bu-but, I er, we, *sigh* fine." He let out a reluctant sigh, knowing he lost. Misty:1 Marlton: 0.
"Thataboy Marleen. Go grab your gun and nerdpack, ill wait by the bus stop." And with that I left, leaving Marlton to stutter something about his name and how it's a 'geniuses survival kit' or something. It's just a backpack filled with electronic parts and other nerdy things.
While walking down the driveway to the bus stop I went over a mental checklist of my inventory. I had my Bowie Knife in its sheath, my Colt in its thigh holster, my dad's Winchester in its gun sheath on my back, and my SCAR-H slung over my shoulder. All with spare ammo filling the numerous pouches and bandolier belt on my body. By the time I reached the road I heard the sound of footsteps behind me and I turned to see that it was Marlton running down the driveway trying to catch up with me. He had his 'nerdpack' on his back and DSR 50 in his hands. His Glock 17 was strapped to his thigh much like my Colt. We just stood there in silence not having anything to talk about while we waited for the bus. When it finally arrived we got on. The ride through the fog was just as silent, only being broken by the weird robot driver pointing out places that are nowhere near where we are and yelling about doom and getting eaten alive. Whoever programmed this damn thing is gonna get punched in the mouth if I ever meet them.
We finally reached the town, or what was left of it, and got off and started rooting around the ruined buildings that were still moderately standing. We started off in the bar and found nothing, although I did find the ten cents I lost by the Stamin-Up machine when I used it last week. With the bar yielding nothing we headed to the apartment overtop the barbershop. While Marlton was rooting around in piles of junk I was keeping watch incase any of those Freaksacks tried to jump us. I turned to my left and saw another of those strange looking soda machines that keep popping up everywhere randomly. I read the title and it said 'Juggernog' and what luck, it was ten cents. I was kinda thirsty so I walked over to it and inserted my change and pressed the button to release the bottle. I grabbed it from the tray, twisted the top off, and proceeded to chug it. When I was done I dropped the bottle and let out a big burp.
"Heh heh, soooo unladylike." I said to myself as I walked back to my previous spot by the door.
"Misty? How many of those sodas have you had?" Marlton asked when he walked up to me.
"Just the one Marl."
"First, it's Marlton. Second, I meant all together." His faced scrunched into a look like he was trying not to yell.
"Oh, I've had four then." I wasn't sure what he was getting at. It's not that the sodas were bad, all they did was taste funny and leave a strange feeling in me for a few seconds. It's probably because there old.
"Which four?"
"Uh, let me think. It was Mulekick, Stamin-Up, Quick Revive, and now Juggernog. Why, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, I just think you shouldn't have any more."
"I've seen you drink some too, what were they?" I asked him.
"Deadshot Daiquiri, Speed Cola, and DoubleTap II."
"Well? Why is it such a bad thing to drink them?" I was feeling a bit annoyed, and slightly flattered, that he was so worried about me.
"We just don't know what they are, they don't seem to have any adverse side effects as far as I can tell but I feel that the proper course of action is be better safe then sorry." I guess that makes sense. "Come on, they absolutely nothing in this damn down that's worth our time." He started walking down the stairs and I followed. Right before we got on the bus I noticed something strange in the bank.
"Hey Marlton? Was the vault always open?" I asked while pointing through the window of the bank. He looked where I was pointing and cocked his head to the side in confusion.
"No, I don't think it was." We shared a look before bolting into the side door of the bank and past the giant metal door.
Inside the vault was another door, also open. This time controlling ourselves we walked slowly in through the odd second door, guns pointed forward. When we got in we realized it was just a small room with nothing of interest. We turned to leave when all of a sudden one of the walls to our left slowly slid back, revealing a set of stairs that lead into an oddly clean basement area. I looked over at my companion and gave him a quick nod and raised my gun to my shoulder and looked down the sights. Slowly we both descended the stairs into the strange room. At the bottom we realized that it wasn't as clean as we once though. Blood covered almost all surfaces, the floor, walls, and sometimes ceiling. We walked down the long hallway to out right and tried all the doors, but to our dismay they were all locked. When we turned a corner we saw at the end of another long hallway was an open door that lead into a large open room. Keeping cautious we walked up to the door and I poke my head in. Upon finding nothing waiting for us we walked in.
The room itself was very bare, with only a few strange machines and a bunch of wires. Marlton seemed drawn to the giant cylinder shaped machine in the center an started messing around with the consul. I on the other hand wanted to look at that cool looking blue box with all these gears in the hole in the center, I looks at the top and it showed the name.
"Pack-A-Punch?" I titled my head to the side to see if I read it right.
"Hey, what you think this thing does?" I yelled over my shoulder to Marlton who was busy fiddling with, what I assume was the control panel, to the machine he was at. He looked up and started to walk over to me. Before he got a chance to speak the machine started to play music.
'Friends, neighbors, ladies, gentlemen, if you're feelin' underpowered, I'll help you make amends. Stick your weapon in the slot, and let it change your luck. Few things in life are guaranteed, but I promise this won't suck: Put your fists into the air and raise a rebelled yell! There's lots of bad'uns out there you need to send to hell! With Pack-a-Punch, I have a hunch, your problems will be gone, but if you end up on the ground, sing a country western song. Pack-a-Punch (Everybody)! Pack-a-Punch (Yee-haa)! Pack-a-Punch! Pack-a-Punch! Pack-a-Punch (Everybody)! Pack-a-Punch! Pack-a-Punch (YEE-HAA!) Pack-a-Punch (WAA-HOOOO)!'
I guess that explains it. "I think that if you put a weapon in it then it will be better, somehow." I said to Marlton while walking up to the machine.
I took my fathers Winchester off my back and held it in my hands. I examined the once fine polished wood stock and the use to be shiny gun metal. Over the past year this baby got so much use, unfortunately it doesn't kill them as fast as it use to. It sometimes took all fifteen rounds to take one of those undead bastards down. If it can't kill them then it was worthless so I thought 'What the hell' and put it in the slot on the front. We watched as the gun was sucked in with a blinding flash of light. I watched with bated breath as the seconds ticked by. Then another flash of light obscured my vision and soon I was staring at my fathers Winchester once again.
I looked at it and let out a gasp of surprise, for the gun looked brand new with perfectly carved engravings along every piece of exposed metal. Before I had a chance to examine it further, the sound of small plinks of metal on metal resounded from a tray on the side of the machine. Inside the tray were about ninety .44 rounds, they were exactly like the ones in the bandolier around my waist except for the fact that each bullet casing was silver, rather then the standard brass, and had smaller engravings along the outside much like the ones on the gun.
"You should probably grab those, if the gun was indeed upgraded then whose to say it won't need a special type of ammo. Couldn't hurt." Marlton spoke up from beside me. Shrugging, I pocketed the strange bullets and placed the strange yet familiar gun into its holster on my back. I looked over to see that Marlton had once again returned to the large cylindrical device. I decided to see what was so special about it because if he can turn away from a machine like the 'Pack-A-Punch' then it had to be something good.
"Marlton, what is this thing?" I asked while leaning on the control consul that he was messing with.
"Huh? Oh uh, this clipboard" he reached to the side of the consul and picked it up "says that it is a teleporter that was based on old blueprints found in an old Nazi factory named Der Riese. Don't ask me what it means I don't know. What I'm trying to figure out is how to operate it, the clipboard mentions an activation button but not where it is." While he was yammering on about something or other I walked over to the supposed teleporter and stepped inside. "-and it's so illogical to have a consul but no activation button-"
"Hey Marl."
"-perhaps it is a switch and not a button-"
"Marlton." I called out, getting impatient.
"-but by that logic it could also be a lever-"
"MARLTON!" I yelled.
"Huh? What?" He looked up from the array of buttons and dials at the very loud sound of my voice.
"You talking about this?" I asked while pointing to the large red button inside of the cylinder.
"Oh." Was all he said while walking over to me. He stepped into the machine, completely forgetting that it was a tight fit thanks to all our gear and that he was pressed up against me. A smile creeped onto my lips as I thought that this was a perfect time to tease him.
"Oh Marlton, if you wanted to be this close to me there was a closet back at the farm." I laid on the flirting tone extra hard. The result was a red faced Marlton jumping away from me and against the wall, which would have been hilarious, if he didn't slam into the button. We only had enough time to share a quick glance at each other before our vision was blinded by blinding white flashes of lightning, a swirling vortex, then blackness.
A/N: And there off! I hope no one minds that I took creative liberties and said that Marlton created the Galvaknuckles and that I added some perks and guns that weren't in Tranzit. If you wish to drop a review that would be great, because reviews help me stay interested in a story and sometimes gets me to make chapters faster. So click the review button and write one up.