Under a Graveyard Sky

“Concert?” Sophia said, her eyes lighting.

“In the dark,” Steve said. “In zombie infested New York city.”

“I’ve never been to a concert,” Faith said, sadly. “I mean, that’s one of those things you do when you’re a teenager. The way things are going, I’ll never get a chance. Or go to prom…” She sniffed.

“We are not going to a concert at night in a park in zombie infested New York!” Steve said. “And that’s final!”

* * *

“This band sucks,” Faith shouted.

“Warm up band,” Tom shouted back. “They usually do. The good ones don’t come on until later!”

Nobody seemed to care that the band sucked. With enough alcohol and drugs anything sounded good. And from the litter the party had been going on for quite a while. The stage was set up right in front of the Arch and was apparently powered by a collection of generators which added their own cacophony to the din.

“No security?” Sophia asked, looking around. There was no sign of police presence and nobody was apparently in charge.

“I guess it’s us!” Tom said, grinning. “No, this is a totally illegal gathering under New York City law. But it has sprung up so many times and there are so many other problems that they’re not bothering to enforce it. You’re here at your own risk. Which I would not suggest if Durante and I weren’t here.”

“Got it,” Sophia said. The women in the crowd were either in large groups or accompanied by males. “Don’t drink from an open container. Don’t accept anything and for anything else I’ve got this,” she said, tapping her pistol.

“This will probably stop any problems in their tracks,” Tom said, tapping the large BERT sign velcroed to the front of her kevlar. He’d also provided “contractor” badges for the group. The badges, on neck lanyards, read “Biological Emergency Contract Agent.”

“What?” Sophia said, her eyes wide. “You mean the rumor that BERT vans are taking people to be made into vaccine? Nobody believes that!”

“Just keep repeating that,” Tom said.

Despite the implicit warning, Sophia gently drifted to the side of the group, getting a look at the crowd. Most of them were young. Her apparent age. Or maybe even her real age. The point was that you could never tell. And the whole crowd had a funny edge. They didn’t seem to be enjoying themselves as much as trying really really hard to enjoy themselves. The only ones that didn’t have that edge were the ones that, before it was even dark, were already so stoned or drunk they could forget why an illegal concert could go on in the Park without being broken up.

“Hey,” a guy said from behind her. It was as close to a whisper as you could use with nuclear level speakers blaring. “Top quality vaccine!”

She turned to look and the guy was holding a vial cupped in his hand.

“I can get syringes, too.” The guy was dressed in a vivid pink rayon shirt, a Yankees jacket and jeans. He looked like some sort of walking advertisement for bad drug dealers. “Clean.”

“Got some,” Sophia said. “Thanks.”

Sophia turned fully so he could see the sign on her body armor and neck badge and just gave him a cold, blank stare.

“Oh…shit,” the guy said, his eyes going wide. He turned around and hurried away, occasionally glancing over his shoulder.

“Wow, that really does work,” Sophia said.

“Hey,” a girl said, looking around to make sure nobody could hear. “Can you score me some?”

“We don’t really make vaccine,” Sophia said, sighing. “And I don’t even work the streets. I’m support staff.”

“What do you do?” the girl’s male companion asked slowly. He was pretty clearly stoned but trying to track.

“Antibody tests,” Sophia said, shrugging. “Lab work. Making sure that our client’s aren’t infected. We’re contracted to a particular corporation. The rest is sort of NDA.”

“That’s cool,” the guy said. “Hey, want some ebomb?” he asked, holding out a handful of pills.

“You really don’t want a person carrying a pistol and a taser fucked up,” Sophia said, grinning. “No offense.”

“You here as security?” the girl asked.

“Nope,” Sophia said. “Just enjoying the show. Sort of. They really suck.”

“Yeah,” the girl said. “The good ones don’t start showing up until after dark…”

* * *

The girl was Christine, her boyfriend “he’s just a hook-up, really, cause he’s got a source” was Todd. They were both New York natives as were their friends. The group was huddled for protection against the increasingly rowdy crowd. There was a group right down by the stage, which had created a mosh pit, which explained the fence set up to protect the bands.

After the sun went down the band changed. It was another NYC local band but it was better. Not by much but better.

That band changed out for somebody she actually thought she recognized, a tall saturnine guy carrying an acoustic guitar.

“Is that Voltaire?” Sophia asked.

“Yeah,” Christine said. She’d been hitting a bottle of Chivas Regal from the neck and was thoroughly plastered. “He shows up every night.”

“Brains, Brains, Brains…!” the crowd chanted.

Of course, he started with Brains, then all the oldies and goodies. Vampire Club, Demonslayer, USS Make- Shit-Up… She knew them all and she’d always wanted to see him in concert.

An underground concert in a park in NYC in the middle of an apocalypse was just…perfect.

He was in the middle of Day of the Dead, when she heard the first shotgun blast…

* * *

“The 1911 is a great gun,” Faith shouted. “But it’s really obsolete technology. And it’s only got seven rounds! I prefer the H &K.”

“Try getting service out of them,” Durante shouted back. They were standing side by side with Faith watching the bands and Durante watching the outer darkness. They’d both put in earplugs even after Voltaire showed up. You could still hear him and she wasn’t a huge Voltaire fan. “And a 1911 doesn’t have a ‘I crack if you look at me wrong’ polymer frame.”

“You can shoot an H &K under water,” Faith said.

“You can shoot a 1911 under water,” Durante replied. “Although I don’t know why you’d have to. That’s called a strawman argument.”

“Once, maybe,” Faith argued. “But an H &K has an octagonal barrel. It can handle a much higher load.”

“We’re just going to have to agree to disagree,” Durante said, grinning.

“I wish they had, like, Atreyu or Avenged Sevenfold,” Faith said. “Sophia must be having a blast, though.” They’d all been keeping her under light surveillance.

“She seems to be,” Durante said. “She seems more…” He paused and shook his head. “BOSS! COMPANY!”

“Cops?” Faith asked, looking over her shoulder.

“No.”

Coming out of the shadows of the trees she could see two naked people, male and female, trotting towards the concert-goers.

“Shit,” she said, drawing her taser.

“Again, let me take it,” Durante said, drawing one of his. “Less questions.”

The zombies weren’t heading directly their way so Durante trotted to the side to interpose himself between