Dead or Alive (2/?)
Posted: Wed Aug 20, 2003 10:02 pm
Dead or Alive
Chapter 2, Living Dead Girl
Leaning on a pasty fence post while listening as some old man chatted with Ed, endlessly about the failing Roman economy, Faye drank in the scenery which grew darker and darker, almost visibly creeping.
?I could swear I could see that fire hydrant a minute ago?? she thought idly, spying lights flicker off an on in windows scattered across the street. ?Freaky.?
A dense fog rolled in along with the darkness, not just any fog, a fog which smelled of rust, sulfur, and excrement. Suddenly, the blinking lights slowly flickered out, leaving the streets lamps the only source of brightness. Void blackness crept up like a bad habit and swallowed Rome whole, spitting out a few cars with their headlights on, knowing they would soon die out from the stress on their batteries.
To say it was cold, just became a whole new meaning. No warmth could be felt on her arms, Faye shivered bitterly. ?Ed??
?Yeah? Faye-Faye?? the little voice echoed with a dull murmur about 4 feet or so away, where she stood with the old man.
?You have any idea what?s going on here?? Stammering a cold sputter, she licked her lips to keep them warm with feeling.
?I think it is going to snow! YAY! SNOW!!? the pre-pubescent girl giggled while flailing her arms out to her sides, in hopes to swirl around in a mist of snow flakes.
Covering her mouth protectively from the stench of the oozing fog and maybe keep her face warm, she felt a hand of ice grip her shoulder roughly. In an instantaneous reflex, her arm flew out to grab the offending hand and give the person a world of pain, yet there was nothing there, and the smells from the fog grew more intense with each passing second, Faye?s stomach filled with butterflies and her spine felt as though it were pierced by thousands of tiny needles.
?Ed?!? she cried out, half hoping the girl was okay, half hoping the teeny freak of a genius could have some sort of explanation for her.
?ooOoOoOoo Energy! Do you see it, Faye-Faye?? the girl cooed affectionately while looking at Ein through her thermal goggles. She saw the shape of the dog, the heat he was emitting, easily visible due to the cold, and a small hand, the hand of a child, petting Ein?s fur although there was no one there.
?S-s-see w-what?? the woman was near catatonic, normally stoic in the most bizarre instances, yet the cold added with the dark and the fact that someone, yet no one, just grabbed at her shoulder was a little more than her brain could handle at the time. With no answer from Ed. She shouted this time. ?See WHAT?!?
?Ssshh?? Ed?s hand moved towards the smaller hand petting Ein. She slowly reached out to grab it, yet is vanished as soon as the warmth of her own got near, replacing Ein?s pelt with a chill like if the dog had just been thrown into a freezer.
?Cool.? Keeping her eyes forward, she could see Faye in the near distance, arms wrapped around herself, attempting to keep warm. Waves of temperature could be seen being sucked off the woman like if it were vacuumed up by a straw. Strings of energy swirled off to the rear, completely visible through Ed?s goggles.
The girl focused the lenses a little, and a face could be seen looking straight at her, as if mocking her, and rubbing Faye?s back passionately, appearing like it were about to undress the shivering woman. Cocking her head to the side, she pulled out a tazer-like device and dove into Faye, head first, knocking her to the ground, and tossed her hand out while flipping the switch. A massive bolt of electricity flew out of the little girl?s hand and fried Faye?s hair? only. The creature screeched off, wordlessly, and left the two to fight while it spread itself seamless into the fog.
Pausing at the darkened steps at the university, Spike pulled out his lighter and cupped it preciously with his hand. The breeze near breathless, the flame stood straight up as it closed the distance to the shadowed, and rusting doors.
?I could swear these were perfectly fine the last time I was here?? he whispered lightly while simply touching the doors caused them to creak and waver off their hinges.
Stepping inside, his palm smoothened the wall next to him, and found a series of light switches in the ?on? position, however the rows of fluorescent lights did nothing but encourage the night which was just starting to befall Rome. The windows didn?t even admit small glimmers of moonlight. All was pitch black. Spike?s eyebrows drew into a light frown; this did not bid a cheerful welcome.
He decided that his prime objective at this time was to find Jet? of course? it was a temporary objective as moans of pain crawled closer through the corridors, heading toward the foyer. His breath stuck in his throat as he reached for his pistol and clenched it tightly in his fist. The Bebop?s front man didn?t quite know what to expect, nor did he want to. There was a time to fight, and a time to run? he assumed that this would be a good time to run, and took off like a bulimic after binge eating and headed to the main hall, where the stairwell imposed itself in dull and dusty brass glory.
Taking a few steps, not seeing any movement, he lowered his weapon to grab the banister tightly; the concrete steps felt as though they were just about to crumble beneath his feet.
?What the hell?!? he thought a loud, wondering how this could be physically possible. The last time he was in Rome had only been several years ago, and the university had just been remodeled at that time? so everything should be in top condition. Not only was the structure weakened, seemingly by age and neglect, but there were no people within. Normally, there?d be a hustle and bustle of professors and students filling the halls to the brim. Normally. All he could see were lime stained marble walls, and a surprising lack of people. He attributed the Donaldson Disease?s so-called virus, but really, this was going a little further than some simple infection? this was degeneration of everything? EVERYTHING.
Nothing made sense. Spike decided to find Jet as soon as possible, find the girls, and get out of Rome. The Donaldson Disease would have to wait for another day, until someone could figure out what the hell was going on.
Reaching the top of the stairs, he could hear strange voices, again moans of pain, but there was more than just that. Screams, cries, inaudible yet you can just hear it like it was just out of reach. His named sounded like it was whispered on the echoes of the empty halls, the name spoken by sounds inhuman yet distinguishable by the ear, like guitar rifts and grinding teeth. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes, the sound near unbearable, taking his hands and grasping his ears tightly, smacking himself in the head, lightly, with his gun. That pain was nothing in comparison to the squawking sounds reverberating off the walls and floors.
?Jet!!? he shouted out, just to be safe. If the man were around, perhaps he could have more answers, as Spike had more questions than anything else.
?JET!? he shouted again, taking his hands off his ears slowly, hoping to perhaps hear sounds potentially coming from his comrade.
The soft crumble of the wall to his right set him off into full combat mode, a man, a tall, balding, decomposing man with a shoulder strap half way through his arm came bolting at Spike as quickly as he could; which wasn?t all that fast. He groaned a deep ethereal sound in his stomach and lunged clumsily to the side where Spike had dodged. With heavy, dead weight hands, he swung low to catch his opponent who was dancing on the balls of his feet and swaying his arms from side to side.
?Little fucker wants to fight, eh?? Spike grinned from ear to ear, not particularly because he WANTED to fight, but he wanted to shake off the nerves pent up from being spooked to near-death.
He smiled to the man and danced around him, playfully. He kicked a leg out and tripped him easily and took another swoop-kick for good measures to the mid-section as he lay flat on his back on the dilapidated floor. The man slowly, but surely, stood up again, hardly frazzled by the rough hits. Spike wiped his nose quickly with his fist in anticipation of an enduring rival.
Taking a few steps to the left and right, weaving controllably to confuse the man, he delivered a series of jabs and slaps to his face, shoulders, and upper arms, which seemed to be of no effect other than unleashing the sticking power of skin that is usually present on a person?s body. The man?s shirt tore open with ease, the feeble material unable to hold onto the chunks of skin falling from his chest due to the blows. His left arm fell to the floor and turned to dust within minutes.
Gaping at the scene decompose, he stood with his fists still clenched loosely, and followed with his eyes, every piece of skin/clothing/body parts fall into a pool of ash at their feet.
?Shit? was all he could say as a steel rod suddenly took the head clean off the man?s shoulders, a steel rod held by Jet who was sweating something fierce.
The older man stumbled to his knees as blood, looking more like extra-thick ketchup spilled around him and the corpse which just fell like a sack of potatoes. His breathing ragged, his hands splayed wide in front of him, supporting all his weight which seemed abnormally heavy.
?Please tell me you have a cigarette?? he said with a slight chuckle.
With that, Spike lit one up and passed it to Jet as he crouched under his arm to haul him up and support his body. ?Yeah, you look like crap.?
Jet nodded, inhaling the wondrous fumes of cancer giving goodness. ?Just don?t go down that hall.? He nodded over to the left, the origins of the deafening sounds Spike had experienced earlier.
?Why? What?s over there??
They stumbled in unison to a bench nearby, Jet slumping himself onto it, unsure whether the thing could actually support his weight or not, and Spike spotting a vending machine just beside and giving it a few well placed kicks. The machine spat out a bottle of sport?s water, much like Gatorade, but Roman brand.
Jet ran his good hand over his head to wipe away the gathering sweat and cringed as searing pain shot through his right side, particularly where his prosthetic arm was attached to his shoulder. ?Just promise me you won?t go over there??
Spike nodded and tossed him the bottle.
?I was in Dr. Shimizu?s office earlier and saw something no man should ever see.? Jet shuddered at the memory. ?I got wind that the good doctor was making a serum to counter-act what ever Donaldson has made. Of course, no specifics were made, but I was going on a rumour and a hunch.?
?How?d you hear this??
?I have my sources. But anyways, this virus is more than meets the eye, apparently. And Dr. Shimizu was on the right track. I?m afraid Donaldson was already here, obviously, and may still be here. Let?s just say things didn?t look like this when I walked in.?
Spike nodded knowingly. ?Figured as much.?
?Also I think I may be infected somehow. I feel like I?ve just been dragged behind a car, hot, and damned itchy.?
Jet looked at his hand holding the bottle, noticing how thin and pale his skin was looking.
?I don?t know how long I have. You seen that guy. He was long dead. Could swear I saw him when I walked in, looking normal.?
?Don?t worry, man. There?s a cure, right??
?Yeah,? he said with a semi-supportive smile. ?But I?ve no idea what it is. From what I could tell in Shimizu?s notes; it is something stupidly simple, a chemical found in everyday things? but I have no idea what and what the dosage would be.?
Putting a thumb to his chin, Spike pondered a second and paced in a circle for a few seconds. ?You know, my informant mentioned something like, there are carriers of the virus who would be immune to it.?
?Spike, that could be any one??
?True.?
?So what now??
?Was Shimizu the only one with access to these files? I mean, were they in the computer or were they just pieces of paper??
Jet looked at Spike who had now sat on the bench with him and who had crossed his legs comfortably like he was simply trying to solve a puzzle in the daily newspaper and not trying to save his friend?s life.
?What does it matter??
?It matters, if I can get Ed over here, maybe she can crack into his files and get the cure so we can get the hell out of here!?
With a loud snort-ish chuckle, Jet shook his head. ?I don?t want her going into that room.?
?Fine! I?ll clean out the room, and the area, find Ed to break in. I?m not leaving without you.?
Not that he would be successful, Jet thought about convincing Spike to leave him, and to take the girls and leave. However, it seemed his fellow cowboy was two steps ahead, and was more than determined not to leave him behind. It all seemed too easy, clean out the area and hack the computer.
Prime objective complete. New prime objective! Away we go! Spike got up while dragging Jet along with him, tossing the older man?s arm over his shoulder.
?We?re finding a safe closet for you, and then I?m off to clean. I don?t want to hear a peep from you. Got it??
Chapter 2, Living Dead Girl
Leaning on a pasty fence post while listening as some old man chatted with Ed, endlessly about the failing Roman economy, Faye drank in the scenery which grew darker and darker, almost visibly creeping.
?I could swear I could see that fire hydrant a minute ago?? she thought idly, spying lights flicker off an on in windows scattered across the street. ?Freaky.?
A dense fog rolled in along with the darkness, not just any fog, a fog which smelled of rust, sulfur, and excrement. Suddenly, the blinking lights slowly flickered out, leaving the streets lamps the only source of brightness. Void blackness crept up like a bad habit and swallowed Rome whole, spitting out a few cars with their headlights on, knowing they would soon die out from the stress on their batteries.
To say it was cold, just became a whole new meaning. No warmth could be felt on her arms, Faye shivered bitterly. ?Ed??
?Yeah? Faye-Faye?? the little voice echoed with a dull murmur about 4 feet or so away, where she stood with the old man.
?You have any idea what?s going on here?? Stammering a cold sputter, she licked her lips to keep them warm with feeling.
?I think it is going to snow! YAY! SNOW!!? the pre-pubescent girl giggled while flailing her arms out to her sides, in hopes to swirl around in a mist of snow flakes.
Covering her mouth protectively from the stench of the oozing fog and maybe keep her face warm, she felt a hand of ice grip her shoulder roughly. In an instantaneous reflex, her arm flew out to grab the offending hand and give the person a world of pain, yet there was nothing there, and the smells from the fog grew more intense with each passing second, Faye?s stomach filled with butterflies and her spine felt as though it were pierced by thousands of tiny needles.
?Ed?!? she cried out, half hoping the girl was okay, half hoping the teeny freak of a genius could have some sort of explanation for her.
?ooOoOoOoo Energy! Do you see it, Faye-Faye?? the girl cooed affectionately while looking at Ein through her thermal goggles. She saw the shape of the dog, the heat he was emitting, easily visible due to the cold, and a small hand, the hand of a child, petting Ein?s fur although there was no one there.
?S-s-see w-what?? the woman was near catatonic, normally stoic in the most bizarre instances, yet the cold added with the dark and the fact that someone, yet no one, just grabbed at her shoulder was a little more than her brain could handle at the time. With no answer from Ed. She shouted this time. ?See WHAT?!?
?Ssshh?? Ed?s hand moved towards the smaller hand petting Ein. She slowly reached out to grab it, yet is vanished as soon as the warmth of her own got near, replacing Ein?s pelt with a chill like if the dog had just been thrown into a freezer.
?Cool.? Keeping her eyes forward, she could see Faye in the near distance, arms wrapped around herself, attempting to keep warm. Waves of temperature could be seen being sucked off the woman like if it were vacuumed up by a straw. Strings of energy swirled off to the rear, completely visible through Ed?s goggles.
The girl focused the lenses a little, and a face could be seen looking straight at her, as if mocking her, and rubbing Faye?s back passionately, appearing like it were about to undress the shivering woman. Cocking her head to the side, she pulled out a tazer-like device and dove into Faye, head first, knocking her to the ground, and tossed her hand out while flipping the switch. A massive bolt of electricity flew out of the little girl?s hand and fried Faye?s hair? only. The creature screeched off, wordlessly, and left the two to fight while it spread itself seamless into the fog.
Pausing at the darkened steps at the university, Spike pulled out his lighter and cupped it preciously with his hand. The breeze near breathless, the flame stood straight up as it closed the distance to the shadowed, and rusting doors.
?I could swear these were perfectly fine the last time I was here?? he whispered lightly while simply touching the doors caused them to creak and waver off their hinges.
Stepping inside, his palm smoothened the wall next to him, and found a series of light switches in the ?on? position, however the rows of fluorescent lights did nothing but encourage the night which was just starting to befall Rome. The windows didn?t even admit small glimmers of moonlight. All was pitch black. Spike?s eyebrows drew into a light frown; this did not bid a cheerful welcome.
He decided that his prime objective at this time was to find Jet? of course? it was a temporary objective as moans of pain crawled closer through the corridors, heading toward the foyer. His breath stuck in his throat as he reached for his pistol and clenched it tightly in his fist. The Bebop?s front man didn?t quite know what to expect, nor did he want to. There was a time to fight, and a time to run? he assumed that this would be a good time to run, and took off like a bulimic after binge eating and headed to the main hall, where the stairwell imposed itself in dull and dusty brass glory.
Taking a few steps, not seeing any movement, he lowered his weapon to grab the banister tightly; the concrete steps felt as though they were just about to crumble beneath his feet.
?What the hell?!? he thought a loud, wondering how this could be physically possible. The last time he was in Rome had only been several years ago, and the university had just been remodeled at that time? so everything should be in top condition. Not only was the structure weakened, seemingly by age and neglect, but there were no people within. Normally, there?d be a hustle and bustle of professors and students filling the halls to the brim. Normally. All he could see were lime stained marble walls, and a surprising lack of people. He attributed the Donaldson Disease?s so-called virus, but really, this was going a little further than some simple infection? this was degeneration of everything? EVERYTHING.
Nothing made sense. Spike decided to find Jet as soon as possible, find the girls, and get out of Rome. The Donaldson Disease would have to wait for another day, until someone could figure out what the hell was going on.
Reaching the top of the stairs, he could hear strange voices, again moans of pain, but there was more than just that. Screams, cries, inaudible yet you can just hear it like it was just out of reach. His named sounded like it was whispered on the echoes of the empty halls, the name spoken by sounds inhuman yet distinguishable by the ear, like guitar rifts and grinding teeth. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes, the sound near unbearable, taking his hands and grasping his ears tightly, smacking himself in the head, lightly, with his gun. That pain was nothing in comparison to the squawking sounds reverberating off the walls and floors.
?Jet!!? he shouted out, just to be safe. If the man were around, perhaps he could have more answers, as Spike had more questions than anything else.
?JET!? he shouted again, taking his hands off his ears slowly, hoping to perhaps hear sounds potentially coming from his comrade.
The soft crumble of the wall to his right set him off into full combat mode, a man, a tall, balding, decomposing man with a shoulder strap half way through his arm came bolting at Spike as quickly as he could; which wasn?t all that fast. He groaned a deep ethereal sound in his stomach and lunged clumsily to the side where Spike had dodged. With heavy, dead weight hands, he swung low to catch his opponent who was dancing on the balls of his feet and swaying his arms from side to side.
?Little fucker wants to fight, eh?? Spike grinned from ear to ear, not particularly because he WANTED to fight, but he wanted to shake off the nerves pent up from being spooked to near-death.
He smiled to the man and danced around him, playfully. He kicked a leg out and tripped him easily and took another swoop-kick for good measures to the mid-section as he lay flat on his back on the dilapidated floor. The man slowly, but surely, stood up again, hardly frazzled by the rough hits. Spike wiped his nose quickly with his fist in anticipation of an enduring rival.
Taking a few steps to the left and right, weaving controllably to confuse the man, he delivered a series of jabs and slaps to his face, shoulders, and upper arms, which seemed to be of no effect other than unleashing the sticking power of skin that is usually present on a person?s body. The man?s shirt tore open with ease, the feeble material unable to hold onto the chunks of skin falling from his chest due to the blows. His left arm fell to the floor and turned to dust within minutes.
Gaping at the scene decompose, he stood with his fists still clenched loosely, and followed with his eyes, every piece of skin/clothing/body parts fall into a pool of ash at their feet.
?Shit? was all he could say as a steel rod suddenly took the head clean off the man?s shoulders, a steel rod held by Jet who was sweating something fierce.
The older man stumbled to his knees as blood, looking more like extra-thick ketchup spilled around him and the corpse which just fell like a sack of potatoes. His breathing ragged, his hands splayed wide in front of him, supporting all his weight which seemed abnormally heavy.
?Please tell me you have a cigarette?? he said with a slight chuckle.
With that, Spike lit one up and passed it to Jet as he crouched under his arm to haul him up and support his body. ?Yeah, you look like crap.?
Jet nodded, inhaling the wondrous fumes of cancer giving goodness. ?Just don?t go down that hall.? He nodded over to the left, the origins of the deafening sounds Spike had experienced earlier.
?Why? What?s over there??
They stumbled in unison to a bench nearby, Jet slumping himself onto it, unsure whether the thing could actually support his weight or not, and Spike spotting a vending machine just beside and giving it a few well placed kicks. The machine spat out a bottle of sport?s water, much like Gatorade, but Roman brand.
Jet ran his good hand over his head to wipe away the gathering sweat and cringed as searing pain shot through his right side, particularly where his prosthetic arm was attached to his shoulder. ?Just promise me you won?t go over there??
Spike nodded and tossed him the bottle.
?I was in Dr. Shimizu?s office earlier and saw something no man should ever see.? Jet shuddered at the memory. ?I got wind that the good doctor was making a serum to counter-act what ever Donaldson has made. Of course, no specifics were made, but I was going on a rumour and a hunch.?
?How?d you hear this??
?I have my sources. But anyways, this virus is more than meets the eye, apparently. And Dr. Shimizu was on the right track. I?m afraid Donaldson was already here, obviously, and may still be here. Let?s just say things didn?t look like this when I walked in.?
Spike nodded knowingly. ?Figured as much.?
?Also I think I may be infected somehow. I feel like I?ve just been dragged behind a car, hot, and damned itchy.?
Jet looked at his hand holding the bottle, noticing how thin and pale his skin was looking.
?I don?t know how long I have. You seen that guy. He was long dead. Could swear I saw him when I walked in, looking normal.?
?Don?t worry, man. There?s a cure, right??
?Yeah,? he said with a semi-supportive smile. ?But I?ve no idea what it is. From what I could tell in Shimizu?s notes; it is something stupidly simple, a chemical found in everyday things? but I have no idea what and what the dosage would be.?
Putting a thumb to his chin, Spike pondered a second and paced in a circle for a few seconds. ?You know, my informant mentioned something like, there are carriers of the virus who would be immune to it.?
?Spike, that could be any one??
?True.?
?So what now??
?Was Shimizu the only one with access to these files? I mean, were they in the computer or were they just pieces of paper??
Jet looked at Spike who had now sat on the bench with him and who had crossed his legs comfortably like he was simply trying to solve a puzzle in the daily newspaper and not trying to save his friend?s life.
?What does it matter??
?It matters, if I can get Ed over here, maybe she can crack into his files and get the cure so we can get the hell out of here!?
With a loud snort-ish chuckle, Jet shook his head. ?I don?t want her going into that room.?
?Fine! I?ll clean out the room, and the area, find Ed to break in. I?m not leaving without you.?
Not that he would be successful, Jet thought about convincing Spike to leave him, and to take the girls and leave. However, it seemed his fellow cowboy was two steps ahead, and was more than determined not to leave him behind. It all seemed too easy, clean out the area and hack the computer.
Prime objective complete. New prime objective! Away we go! Spike got up while dragging Jet along with him, tossing the older man?s arm over his shoulder.
?We?re finding a safe closet for you, and then I?m off to clean. I don?t want to hear a peep from you. Got it??
