Deep Penetration: Chapter Three
Deep Penetration: Chapter Three
A ZombieFic Production
The investigation Begins
Preceding Chapter | Proceeding Chapter
“An alternate, you say?” The nervous man swallowed, with the iron laden scent of blood amok in the air working at his composure.
Zombie only nodded, he wasn’t going to repeat himself.
Lawliet’s gaze directed from one man to the next. She nervously bit her lip, now quite unsure of what exactly this man was capable of. She had fired a gun herself before, but never at a person. Never even a warning shot. Yet Zombie had shot a man through his face without any remorse whatsoever.
The large man took a deep breath before speaking in a shallow tone, “If you need an alternate identification, you’re in the wrong place for that. We’re just petty thieves, and muggers, we might even sell small amounts of paraphernalia from time to time.” He paused, panting heavily with fear, “There are several big shots capable of getting you an alternate identification, but they would be located in nicer places.”
“Such as?” Zombie seemed to grow impatient, “You had better provide a name or location, or I’ll see if your colleagues are more willing to speak.”
“There’s a nightclub, downtown, called Kitten’s.” The man barked out quickly, grabbing his chest as though he had just been shot, “Now please, just go away.”
“Let’s go, Lawliet.” Zombie didn’t even so much as break his stride as he spoke while walking away.
Lawliet snapped back to reality as she followed him. She didn’t know what to think, or to say at this point so she remained silent. She would surely have to talk to Zombie at some point about his nefarious actions. Yet she could do nothing at this point but fight the urge to agree with his approach. It had seemed in less than a day this man had gained more leads than their entire organization could have in a year. Further, he seemed to be incredibly dangerous and more than capable of handling himself.
The alley’s dank and muggy scent slowly began to disperse as they exited the alley. The street seemed vacant compared to earlier. Small debris littered their surroundings. They were not entirely alone, however. On a vandalized park bench littered with graffiti an older gentlemen sat. Though his attire placed him comfortably within this poorer district, something about his persona felt off. If the presence of this older man bothered Zombie, it didn’t show at all as he continued walking, his black polished shoes striking the ground creating an uneasy echo in the empty void of the streets.
Leaving that part of the city made Lawliet feel much lighter and less nervous. She had nearly forgotten about the events that had elapsed from pure elation of the oncoming tides of security and safety. Yet her analytical mind had relapsed on the previous events as she grabbed Zombie by the shoulder stopping him.
“You killed a man earlier.” She shook her head not wanting to have this conversation.
Zombie nodded in agreeance, “I did.”
He was about to continue walking when Lawliet stopped him again, “You can’t just do that.”
“It was necessary, and will be a burden I will shoulder entirely to myself. The man was dangerous, how dangerous I can not say. Letting him live and allowing that situation to escalate could have proven mortally hazardous. Or, we could have just walked away, there is no way to know now.” Zombie turned away to continue walking as he spoke softly over his shoulder “we have a mission to complete.”
Lawliet didn’t want to agree with him, but had to at this moment. She continued struggling to keep up with his brisk pace as they navigated the city. Soon traffic became more prevalent, and city itself began to look alive. Pedestrians moved about, and automobiles hummed past them.
Zombie began to hail a taxi, and after several moments one stopped for them. The vehicle was rather dented and old but generally had a nice appearance. It was painted a crisp and vibrant yellow that easily refracted light in a way that almost gave it a glowing appearance. Painted down it’s sides in a single stripe was a checkered pattern, broken only by the appearance of a cab number.
The tinted drivers window briskly cracked, then slowly lowered revealing a pale red headed man in the drivers seat. His handle bar mustache seemed out of place on his small face consuming nearly an eighth of it. He seemed to have one lazy eye which veered in another direction as his one good eye admired his company for the night. “Where we headed to?”
Zombie opened the back door allowing Lawliet to climb into the vehicle, “Kitten’s.”
Zombie then climbed into the cab itself. It had leather serious and a crisp scent of recently sprayed aerosol scented with apples and cinnamon. The interior was fairly clean, minus a few dirty shoe prints on carpeted floor. The leather seats were well worn but taken care of creating a comfortable travel experience.
There was a thin window separating the driver from the passengers, it would have been enough to muffle all sound between them if it weren’t for the hexagonal pattern of drilled holes to the right of his head. As he turned and spoke through the holes, his voice was surprisingly clear.
“Make sure we’re fastened in securely.” The red headed man spoke as the vehicle lurched forward. Rubber tires gripped the tarred road as they began to spin with accelerated speeds towards their destination.
Although traffic wasn’t bad it still took them quite a while to reach their destination. As they hit the man strip traffic seemed to become overwhelmed by it’s environment. The unnatural lights dwarfed the immensity of the sun itself, nobody in this area would be able to tell if it were day or night, it was so bright. Club after club lined the street on both sides. The smell of tobacco and alcohol were the only smells. It seemed as though each club had something different to offer, some flaunting cheap beer, others hailing to ones decadent lifestyle promising promiscuously beautiful damsels of debauchery while others prompted the laid back gentleman to a game of cars and some delectable bourbon.
Kitten’s seemed to take a more illustrious approach, with scantily clad ladies adorning the fake whiskers, cat ears, tails, and even paws. The ladies even played their roles diligently, probably promised more than sufficient pay and benefits.
The taxi veered off of the main road onto a driveway labeled “Taxi Way” where it came to a stop. The driver mumbled something and a price appeared on a small analog screen for them to pay. A metal drop box was visible under the small screen. Zombie fumbled for his wallet, inserting the desired kumi with a small tip, before exiting the vehicle while holding the door open for Lawliet.
As they walked away towards the club, another group of people climbed into the taxi they had just left. The front of the club grew larger, and the noise more rambunctious with the boisterous cat calls, the derogatory howls of men consumed by too much of the distilled nectar, and the overall flamboyant and verbose vulgarities of angered and exited patrons.
It slowly became evident why everybody was so loud too, with the overwhelming decibels produced live brass and string instruments amplified through the halls. The sound of a young lady, or maybe more could be heard singing as well.
The girls at the front door greeted them, “Meow, sir. Meow, mam. Entry tonight is five kumi per person.”
Zombie handed them the money, and they handed them two sets of head bands complete with cat ears. Zombie’s nose twitched for a moment, and it wasn’t because of the lady’s sultry perfume.
“I’m not going to wear this.” Zombie shook his head.
Lawliet had already put hers on, “Why not, they’re cute.”
The cat like lady nodded, agreeing with Lawliet, “They are also required to enter the club.”
Zombie swallowed begrudged by this ridiculous requirement of apparel before fixing them on top of his fedora.
Lawliet laughed at his predicament, “See, it’s not so bad.”
The lady just smiled moving on to the next customer. The glass doors slid open, seemingly on their own as they approached. A blast a chilled air hit them on the inside as soon as they were inside. The interior was truly first class. Every wall had a lavish red velvet colored wallpaper, while the ceilings were intimately decorated with patterned moldings, lascivious paintings adorned the walls, while the carpeting under their feet remained incredibly plush of a vibrant gold color.
Unfortunately, Zombie had no idea where to start looking, when somebody caught his eye. A weary looking lady exhausted from compounding responsibilities trying to manage the entire club. She was talking with several patrons and looked simply beautiful in her black gown. Her hair was tied up, with elegant gold ear rings. A beautiful necklace hung from her delicate looking neck, a large jewel dancing just above her bosom.
Zombie made his approach as he took her hand in his and kissed it’s surface gently, “My lady, Zerabitu.”