FictionPress.com - let the words flow| FictionPress.com - let the words flow |
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
((Dedicated to Aly Ladd, for giving me all of the good ideas and dialogue punches.))
Chapter 1: Bulgarian Umbrella
“Hello and thank you for calling Roscoe and James. How can I help you? Our specialty? Well, if you’re calling us at this our, I think you know our specialty. Oh, haha. The specialty of our specialty. Well, what did you have in mind? Let me go get Roscoe, he’ll know for sure.”
“Know what?” Roscoe called from the kitchen table, his mouth still full of dinner.
“What the specialty of our specialty is.”
“Who in blue blazes wants to know that? Give me the phone.”
James threw the cordless phone to Roscoe, who caught it with one hand and headed into the drawing room. Five minutes later, he returned with a look of determination.
“What’s up?” James asked, taking a bite of his potatoes.
“Call S. Tell her we’re not going to take care of the werewolf until next week. Or get Agent Morcerf to do it.”
James let out a short indignant sigh, “But I’ve never seen a werewolf.”
“We have a bigger issue.”
“What?”
“Remember the training on zombies?”
Roscoe had a sense of humor that was as lame as his left leg. He, however, could never seem to see that. James sat by him for the entire three or so hour plane ride, suffering through badly delivered jokes about nuns.
When the Agency jet landed, James instantly took the company cell phone and turned it on in time to receive a call. “Hello?” James spoke nervously, praying it was going to take a long time. Any time away from Roscoe’s jokes.
“Agent Houdini. Hello.”
“Oh! S, how are you?”
“More than a little upset about having to send Agent Morcerf to take care of the Rainwater case.”
“Sorry…”
“Where are you now? Did you make it to DC alright?”
“Yep. Agent Amelia got us here fine. All of our supplies are here, too.”
“I take it Agent Shere Khan is with you?”
James whispered into the phone receiver, “Yeah… S? Have his jokes always been that bad?”
“Yes. Good luck, Agents.”
“Who was that?” Roscoe asked, taking he bags from the overhead.
“S.”
“What did she want?”
“She was just checking in.”
Roscoe nodded, “Get your umbrella, and let’s go catch a cab. Thanks for the lift, Millie.”
The Agency pilot smiled and waved them goodbye. James hailed a cab, and the pair sat in necessary silence.
“Oh my God,” Roscoe laughed as they entered the hotel room, “I didn’t like the eighties when I lived in them.”
James nodded, “It is on the… retro side.”
Roscoe shook his head, “Nice location, though. It’s almost right on the canal. But anyway, let’s review the case.”
“Right,” James smiled, “Okay. Tonight we have to deal with a class one undead uprising. It’s only zombies and there aren’t any pesky vampires pulling the strings. Could have been a necromancer being careless… As of last night, there were three total civilian casualties.”
“Nothing we can’t deal with.”
“Are we suspiciously good, or are our cases just suspiciously easy?”
“I think a bit of both. But it doesn’t matter. Even if there is something bigger behind this, that’s not our job right now.”
James saluted, “Yes sir, Agent Shere Khan.”
“Don’t you start teasing me, too.”
With a smile, James dawned his bullet-proof vest and took his umbrella, casually slinging it over his shoulder. Then, with dramatic flourish, he put his headset on and flashed a thumbs-up.
Roscoe loaded his semi-automatic pistol and nonchalantly slung his long, sharp spade into its scabbard, going to the door with his cane in his hand. The pair closed the door behind them, and James put the door key into his pocket.
“Wow,” Roscoe muttered, “The whole town shuts down around one in the morning.”
“At least by way of mortals,” James agreed, “But keep an eye out. I think we’re going to have some company in three… two…”
There was a loud groan behind them, and James spun around, squeezing the hidden trigger on his umbrella. The zombie fell dead for good, on the ground. Roscoe took his cane and smashed it through the zombie’s head, “Good job, Agent Houdini.”
“Thank you…” James began to say, but suddenly ran forward, knocking Roscoe to the ground, shooting at another zombie.
The zombie took a bullet, but it wasn’t James’. A voice sounded, ‘I don’t know you are, but these zombies are my problem. Get out of here before you get hurt!”
“These zombies are our mission!” James snapped at the approaching figure, “And we’re better than you might think Miss Vampire.”
The vampire woman seemed taken aback, “How..?”
“I’m Agent Houdini of the P.I.A. I can sense any kind of supernatural creature. The other agent, my senior, that I knocked the ground, is Agent Shere Khan. A veteran supernatural pest exterminator. Who are you?”
The vampire was cheerful as she spoke, “I’m Operative Mina of the VPC. I’ve been following these zombie uprisings for two months, chasing them all over the country.”
“Wait…” Roscoe shoved his spade into the throat of a zombie that had moved towards them as they spoke, “The VPC? Then it’s no wonder that you got the same job as we have. It’s nice to finally meet one of our allies.”
“Our allies?” James fired a shot into the head of a lurking zombie, “Why does nobody tell me these things?”
“S is pretty particular about these things. The VPC is a fairly new ally.”
Mina nodded, “So it’s no wonder that we got assigned the same mission. How, are we going to talk, or kick zombie ass?”
James was about to tell her that kicking zombie ass was the highest priority, but his thoughts were cut short by a humming in his ears. He scowled, and then turned to Roscoe, “I have to take care of something, sir. There’s an incredibly high supernatural presence about four blocks from here, and it’s not a zombie. I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure I can take care of it, sir.”
Roscoe nodded, “Just radio me if you need help.”
Mina saluted as James darted off, and then turned to Roscoe, “How old is he?”
“Thirteen.”
“And he’s already an agent?” the dark skinned vampire shot another zombie, “What are you using him for?”
“That’s confidential.”
Mina frowned, “You’re probably not the only one who wants him, if he’s that special.”
A human? No… James stared in surprise at the man in front of him. There was so much supernatural energy on the block, but how could it be coming from a human?
“Hello, James,” the man said.
“Who… How..?”
“Oh, I know lots of things about you. Here, take this.” He handed James a small bottle, “Drink it.”
In a state of sock, James tasted the syrupy liquid. “It’s sweet.”
“It’s the nectar of heaven.”
James rocked back and forth on his feet, then fainted backwards. The man caught him, taking the boy’s headset and turning it on, listening as Roscoe answered, “Yes, Agent Houdini?”
“Guess again,” the man hissed, “Remember this voice, Miles Roscoe?”
