Chapter 17: A Silent Welcome

The others had found less canned food, but of higher quality: smoked salmon, foie gras, various crabs, even a tin of lobster. More pasta in sealed bags, but whole grain this time. Jars of olives, capers, various pickled vegetables.

We found a fireplace in the open bar, but it was a gas one and so it was enclosed behind glass. Ave took care of that by smashing it with one of her war hammers.

Standing behind the bar and kneading dough, I said, “I don’t know that a gas fireplace could take woodsmoke.”

“Well, not long term, no.” Ave dropped her hammers into their loops on her belt, “But for one night, it won’t be an issue.”

“Here you go,” Dylan passed Marci a green drink, salt limed rim. “A margarita. Uh, the lime juice came from a can.”

She took it, “Thank you. Hmm, very tasty.”

“Top shelf tequila though!” He smiled, sipping his own, “And that makes all the difference.”

“I don’t know that we should be drinking here. This is called a dungeon after all. I suspect it’s for a good reason.”

Dylan held his margarita up, “Shush your worries, River. There’s nothing and no one here.”

“So far. But making us feel safe could be part of the dungeon. It was trapped, remember. Someone had to do that. And Bent did find scuff marks downstairs. Perhaps this, uh, feeling safe and secure, is another kind of trap.”

Bentley held a glass of red wine, “Maybe, in retrospect, I was misjudging. Might have just been some natural clumping of the dust. After all, we haven’t seen any tracks up here.”

“Well,” I said, my hands deep in flour, squishing it around, softening it up, taking the air bubbles out, “we do need a break. Let’s eat, but we’re not partying. Limit your alcohol intake. Take the bottles with you if you want to party when we get out. Also, hey, can you see anything out the windows?”

Dylan set his mostly empty glass down, “I looked, but you can’t see anything.”

“Are we surrounded by cave?” After spreading flour on the counter top, I took the dough out and began to flatten it.

“It’s hard to tell. I couldn’t see any rock. I think we’re in a giant cavern and the walls are far away.” Dylan finished the rest of his glass.

Marci sipped a bit more, “It is making me feel better. I’m sure it’s the lime juice.”

***

“For cheeseless pizza cooked over burning furniture in a gas fireplace, this isn’t bad.”

I raised my beer to Bent, “Thanks. And thanks for busting up the furniture, Ave and Fred.”

“For sure.”

“It was fun.”

“Anyways,” I continued, “it’s amazing they had so much canned food. Not the highest class of restaurant.”

“But nice seats.” Ave tapped the one she was sitting on.

Fred put his feet up on the ottoman in front of him, “Leather. Can’t go wrong.”

“Yeah, it’s all about presentation.” Marci leaned over to me, “Escort me to the little elves room?”

“For sure. Anyone else need the bathroom? We should stick together or at least go two by two.”

“I’m not ready to uncork that seal,” said Fred. He eyed his snifter, full of a cognac he’d found, “Yet.”

A chorus of agreement from the others.

“Uh, ok. We’ll be back in a moment.”

As we passed the wooden doored elevators, I said to her, “I’m glad you’re feeling better. So far, this dungeon doesn’t seem all that bad.” The hotel had been, at one point, a higher-end one. The carpeting was thick, the countertops were marble and fine granite, the walls were marble.

“It’s the familiarity of the hotel, I think. Food, drink,” she slipped her arm into mine, “the company. But I still have that feeling of dread. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“You think it has something to do with being underground?”

“I’m not claustrophobic, if that’s what you mean.”

“You know, and this isn’t good, but we don’t really know what we’re like anymore. As individuals. The nanotech is changing us. The traps, for example, how did I do that? We didn’t cover that stuff in basic training. Your electricity. Fred and Ave becoming brawn over brain. Maybe elves don’t like being underground.”

We turned down the hallway to the restrooms, “That could be it. I wish there was some kind of training manual.”

“You go first, then my turn.”

“Sure.” She entered the stall, which was sealed from top to bottom, no peaking under the walls like in crappy airports, or over them, I guess, and I waited near the sinks.

The bathrooms were likewise upscale. All dark hardwoods, marble flooring, bronze taps and sink inlays, large mirror, even mouthwash and Q-Tip’s. The flashlight only let us see so much, so I check from stall to stall, but it was all undisturbed and empty.

After finishing up, Marci came out, turned the knobs on the taps, and nothing happened. “Rats, no running water to wash up with.”

“You could use the other toilet’s water.”

“No thanks. How about mouthwash?” She stopped up the sink and dumped mouthwash into it, then soaped up and cleaned her hands that way.

“That’ll work. Minty mouthwash and soap. Nice smell.”

After I’d gone and done the same, we left. Opening the door to exit, my flashlight illuminated legs. I ran it up the person, trying to see who it was, but also trying not to blind them. “Hey, it’s safe, feel free to use-”

Blue pants, none of us had blue plants and they were torn. The person turned toward us, and I lit up their face and gasped.

“Holy shit!” said Marci.

Empty eye sockets stared at us, skin pulled apart so tightly, her teeth formed a terrible grin. She put her hands up, moaned, and began walking toward us.

Gunfire broke out in the open bar, shouting.

“Shit!” I pulled up my gun, both hands on it, flashlight fell to the ground, putting the body into darkness, clicked off the safety, pulling the trigger. The bullets entered her body, but she didn’t stop shuffling closer and soon grabbed my arms, pulling me toward her and the gun into its torso. I clicked over to full auto, let loose, bullets tearing into her chest, but I couldn’t get the gun up to her head as she was full of strength and pulling ever closer, her mouth open and ready to bite.

“The head! Bent said go for the head!”

“I can’t!” I stopped firing, pushed hard, the corpse-like woman moved back, mouth snapping shut, then lurched forward again.

Marci reached up to the woman’s arm, sparks scattered about in the air like a short circuit, but didn’t otherwise affect the creature. “What the hell?”

“Back up!” I shouted, then jerked with all my strength while stepping back, and she fell face-first, but it didn’t let go and I was dragged down by my arms. “Shoot it! Shoot its head!”

But Marci had her sword out, slammed it into the thing’s neck with a loud crack, then stomped on the back of her blade, severing the neck. “Not with you so close!”

Tearing the gun away from it, I stood up, ejected the clip, and slammed a new one in. Gunfire continued in the other room. I looked around for my flashlight.

Marci shone hers down the hall – more of those things were coming our way!

“Marci, duck!” She did and I sent bullets into their heads on full auto. Bone chips and flesh flying all over, they rocked back a bit but kept coming. All I could do was stare for far too long.

“Come on!” Marci grabbed my hand, pulling me along, “The elevators! Get the doors open!”

“But the others!”

“We can’t get through all those!”

She grabbed one side of the doors, I took the other and we forced them open. The things were almost upon us.

One placed its hand on Marci, grabbing at her armor. I kicked it, pushing it back and the elevator door tried to close. “We have to hurry!”

“There’s a ladder. Up or down?”

“Up!”

Marci got in, quickly moving up while I held the doors. Three more of the things were getting close, one suddenly ambling faster than the others. Taking hold of the ladder, I let go the doors and they began shutting. The thing reached in, taking hold of my left arm, the doors closed on it, but it wouldn’t let go. I took out my sword and hacked and hacked until its smelly, rotten arm fell off, falling down the shaft.

“You ok?” Marci called down.

“No, not really!”

“Did you get hurt?”

“Just pinched hard. You?”

“I’m ok. I’m worried about the others.”

“Fuck!” A million things were running through my mind. They should have listened to me! We should have stayed together as a group. We shouldn’t be drinking. And now Marci and I were stuck in an elevator shaft! But my mind kept coming back to it all being my fault. As the leader. I wasn’t stern enough.

Marci shone her flashlight in my direction, and that helped me ready my gear. Wrapping my left arm around the ladder, placing the flashlight into my left hand, I undid my belt with my right, and put the belt through the flashlight strap at its base, then did it back up. It was awkward, took time, but I got it done.

“Hey, secure your flashlight if you can.”

“Already done. What do we do now?” Marci shone her flashlight up the shaft, examining the area. It seemed empty, but we’d thought the floor we were on was empty, too.

“Up, I guess. You think those things are zombies?”

“Might as well call them that. The gunfire stopped.”

“They must have learned that bullets do nothing against these.”

She looked back down at me, worry and sweat on her face, “Why do you think we should do?”

“No idea. Hope, I guess, that the floors upstairs are clear.”

“And that we can regroup with the others.”

“We will. We will.”