Undead Fleshcrave: The Zombie Trigger (28 page)

“How’d you know that?” He queried, happy to let her run with the assumption that he was part of a band. “The hair? The clothing?”

“The fact that some of you are carrying instruments,” she pointed out helpfully, the grin blossoming on her face again. “That’s a bit of a giveaway.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“I gather you’re playing then?” She continued. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Black appeared to have caught Dax’s former affliction of repeating the words said in an inane echo. “Yes. We had some car trouble, hence the late arrival. Cutting it a bit fine, I guess.”

“Sun’s only just set. Plenty of time.”

“In any case,” Tempest interjected. “Rooms? I see, your sign says you have some available. Question is, do you have enough to house all of us?”

“I take it you’ve been everywhere else in town? Motels and so forth? Struck out there? I’m surprised the gig organisers didn’t foot the bill for your accommodation and manage to snare a room somewhere in town.”

“Actually, this is the first place we have tried. And we’re…kinda a late inclusion on the bill.”

“I see.” She mused. “As luck would have it, I do have two three bedroom spaces out there. You will have to sort out your own sleeping arrangements there, what’s in the rooms is what’s in there. Take it or leave it.”

“We’ll take it,” Black said. “Sounds fine to me.”

“Done deal. Cross my palm with plastic.”

Some of them looked a fraction puzzled here, but Seth knew what she meant and as he acknowledged, alarm thumped him in the chest. Shit, a credit card. He had one, but it was in his name and he sure as hell didn’t want his name put to anything. Not even with the apocalypse unfolding back behind them in every town they’d come through.

It didn’t appear to phase Black any, he dug a hand into his pocket, rummaging for a wallet. Perhaps his credit card wasn’t actually in his given name, maybe they had a specific Subversion one, whatever the case was, he didn’t seem averse to using it to pay for the accommodation.

“One night only?”

“At the moment.” Black said. “Maybe more.”

“Planning on sticking around to see the sights of good old Blackwater Park after the show, hey?”

“Maybe so. Maybe so.”

“One thing,” Tempest spoke up again. “I’ll assume you and everybody else in this town here are well aware of the unusual doings afoot back down the coast a-ways. The apparent correlation between that and heavy metal music, in the eyes of some so called experts or theorists, zany proposals and all of that. Obviously that’s of no concern here? Clearly nobody here is subscribing to those random theories that people of the heavy metal community are in some way responsible for those things or this concert here wouldn’t be going ahead as planned?”

The woman stared evenly back at him with her piercing green eyes, what might have been an expression of mild amusement tempering her face.

“I’ve heard. We don’t subscribe to any theories along those lines at all. And, well, if perchance some sort of calamity befalls Blackwater Park as it has in those towns down there, we’re a resilient populace here. We have methods of contending with things like that.”

“Good to know,” Tempest nodded noncommittally. “Hate to see a whole pile of witch-hunting gung-ho police and civilians rally round a music show, on edge with thoughts that a gathering of metalheads is going to bring Armageddon down on their town.”

“Pretty sure that isn’t about to happen. Not here.” Again, she chuckled, that low throaty rasp of a sound as she returned the credit card to Black. “If you haven’t ever been here before, you’re about to discover that Blackwater Park is nothing like any other town you’ve encountered. In any case, just so you know, my name is Jazmyn. Let me show you to your lodgings.”

***

After Jazmyn ushered them through the thick curtain drapery separating the front reception area, and down a lengthy hallway lined on either side by an assortment of rooms, informing them of various amenities and features that Kathaarian hosted like some exotic tour guide, she left them at their lodgings, returning to her post.

Along the way she spoke mostly to Black and Roxana at the head of the procession, while others paid more attention to the long dimly lit corridor they walked through. Though most doors were closed, by all accounts there was a much bigger bar than the one out in the waiting room/foyer, a place where live music and other things were allegedly hosted. She didn’t make a point of relaying what was contained in each room and Seth supposed if these weren’t other spots of lodging, then perhaps they were other things he and his group didn’t need to be privy to. After all, Tempest stated they only needed Kathaarian to be a place of accommodation and nothing more at this stage, though the woman clearly said to Dax that it could be whatever they wanted it to be.

He mulled over that curious statement and several other obscure remarks the heavily made up beauty made as he trailed in the collective down the hall, wondering what she meant by any of them.

Kathaarian was a hell of a lot bigger than he thought it would be, certainly much larger than it looked from the outside. The corridor, it’s walls adorned with lanterns and lamps similar to those on the buildings front façade as well as a myriad of paintings that he didn’t get the chance to slow down and gaze at, seemed abnormally long and lined with many doors, more hanging curtains over other apertures.

Then they were left alone at the two units Jazmyn assured them contained three bedrooms in each. It was an unusual set up, and if there were many of these suites throughout Kathaarian, along with the bars and additional things the proprietor alluded to, then the place must be an enormous construction.

An establishment that could be whatever you wanted it to be. It sure seemed big enough to house almost any type of institution one could wish for.

There wasn’t much time to scope out the lay of the land immediately, for as soon as Jazmyn took her leave of their presence and returned, no doubt to the unseen room behind the curtain and the front desk, Black assembled everyone in one of the two units. Seth could only refer to it as a unit; with three separate bedrooms complete in the one thing, it couldn’t merely be considered a simple motel room, it was more than that.

“Okay,” Black said. “I think it’s safe to assume that the death metal extravaganza referred to by the lovely Jazmyn is our guys. It seems a bit much of a coincidence for it to be anything, or anyone else. This, I believe, is going to be one hell of a coup for Global Death, here. Like Jazmyn says, this town is like no other and with them not really falling victim to the propaganda, rumours, and disasters afflicting other towns down the coast, this means it’s the ideal town, not just for us to hide out in, but for Undead to ramp up one hell of a concert and bring their plague down. As we’ve seen, trying to track them from Noumena, they’ve been ghosts, they’ve been hiding out as well, not just because they suspect someone is on their tails, but for the same reason all metal communities down that way are going to be spooked. In the minds of many, metalheads are the enemy, the scourge, the reason for this calamity. Which, of course, you and I all know, in essence does have some truth in it, at least in the sense that a death metal band is solely responsible for the Trigger.”

Black paused temporarily, then proceeded, apparently with plenty to say, hopefully before the lovely Jazmyn decided she’d forgotten to inform them of something and returned to dispense that information.

“They don’t have to do that here, in Blackwater Park, the town is keen for this concert, they love live music here, whether they are strictly metal fans or otherwise. Jazmyn relayed that little titbit as we walked here, she also pointed out that she herself was looking forward to it. Tomorrow. So, Undead Fleshcrave don’t need to hide out with their grand tour designs shot to shit by infecting only a couple of towns, right here they can drum up just as much attention as they want for this show and create some undead fireworks. If anybody has put two and two together about all the towns so far stricken by zombieplague having played host to Undead Fleshcrave concerts, they sure aren’t showing any signs of panic right here in Blackwater Park.

So, one, it would appear we are in exactly the town we want to be in. Two, we haven’t arrived too late, Jazmyn is adamant the show goes on tomorrow. And three, without needing to rush things, or sneak out under cover of darkness, or any such shit to try and pull a sneaky concert, I suspect Undead Fleshcrave will not be hosting any impromptu midnight shows. They’ll be aiming for maximum impact and playing the show at the time advertised with maximum spectators and possible death metal folk who are going to prove highly susceptible to the Zombie Trigger. Meaning, right now, our only issue is finding out where this is going to be. Asking our lovely hostess is out because that tends to blow the whole idea of who we are supposed to be, the fact that she fully believes we are playing this gig.”

“Not necessarily,” Dax piped up. “We’re out of town, we don’t know the joint. Like you said, we’re a late replacement or inclusion to the bill. Doesn’t mean we actually know where the gig is going to be. Maybe the promoter was a little lax in handing over the information. I’d be happy to go ask the lovely Jazmyn a whole bunch of things. And see where that goes.”

A lascivious grin stole across the features of Dax as he spoke, but Black just stared evenly at him.

“Nope. She doesn’t need to know any more than she already does, or has already assumed she knows. She’s been pretty damn cagey herself about things, so how about we all just keep our cards close to our chests here. In any case, finding out where it’s going to be held isn’t going to be a difficult task. That’s what we are going out to do right now.”

“Now?” Mark questioned.

“Not everybody,” Black said. “Just a couple of us. As for everybody else, well, it is still early. Why not go and enjoy yourselves? Either here, at this alleged bar or whatever other forms of entertainment they have here, or go out and see the town. Check things out, get a feel for the place. Have some fun. After all, it’s fair to say that in the last week or so, there has been precious fuck all to celebrate, or to be happy about, indeed, no reason at all to want to have fun. Tonight’s different. We’re here in time, in the right town, we know these evil fucks are going to finally resurface to deliver a coup de grace on Global Death’s plan before there is no further chance to do so and these propaganda spouting metal obsessive whackjobs finally realise why this apocalypse is happening and close the net, and we’re here nice and early with the whole night ahead of us. I wouldn’t be getting ahead of ourselves and thinking of going over the top with celebrations, because it’s more of a small victory here so far, the real deal is still to come. But nothing exists to say we can’t make the most of tonight in some form of celebration. So, why not, everybody relax for the evening, do something that is going to take your mind away from all the bad shit, just go someplace else in your head for a while before having to slip back into the mercenary mindset we need.”

The grin formerly encompassing the face of Dax was back in earnest now, the lustful slant of it still there, no doubt, as he contemplated what types of relaxation he would be seeking, while Mark and Miranda exchanged bemused glances. Some of the others just wore somewhat relieved expressions, while Seth wasn’t too sure what to think. He understood Black’s reasoning and it was all true; there was jackshit to celebrate in the last week, or longer. Nada. Nothing to celebrate at all, in fact, ever since Undead Fleshcrave hit the Quo Vadis stage back in Armada, absolutely fuck all. From that point on it became a sheer descent into nightmares, rolling down on a brakeless ride to hell.

Aside from the couple of points Black outlined, there still wasn’t a great deal to celebrate, the worst was still to come, the whole reason the Subversion trio and their band of companions travelled so far afield. The assassination of Undead Fleshcrave and their throng of mindless watchers.

“Rules,” Black said and this time his voice had a hard edge, a sharp strident bite to it. “Nobody goes anywhere alone. In groups, pairs at the very least, though I wouldn’t recommend that. Nobody compromises why we’re here, in fact, forget it altogether, no speaking of it, or about it, to anybody. For the purposes of us being in town, we are here for the metal concert. That’s it. That’s all. Don’t be drawn any deeper into conversation with anybody―
anybody
—about it. Just go out, have fun, forget what is coming, at least for a little while, then get back here and be sure to catch some sleep. That is, for anybody who insists on going out to check out Blackwater Park itself. As I’m sure all of you have noticed, this is a pretty rough town, so anybody playing the fool can find themselves in trouble. And trouble is not what we want. Have fun, but play smart,
be
fucking smart, and once again, do not compromise the reason we’re here. There is not going to be any fuck ups like Noumena, no slip ups, no mistakes. Ideally, keeping everybody under lock and key would be great, but it’s not right to do so. So, go on, get out, if you want. Or stay and check this place out. Have a shower, have a bath, whatever floats each of your respective boats. But know this…tomorrow, the same plan as we had for Noumena stands. We’re getting on the bill for this show. That remains our cover.”

He paused again and his dark malevolent eyes swept around the room, finally coming to rest on Seth and Dax after briefly alighting on Mark.