The Zombie Knight Saga 9 Ix. | 'Forbearant Soul, Gird Thyself For War...'

Micah, Nathan, Janine, Sheryl, and Gregory were all their names; they were quick to introduce themselves. Hector had been less so, but struggled through it nonetheless. His face still throbbed something terrible, but after everything he had been through in the past few days, hiding the pain in front of everyone was easy enough.

"So what do you do for fun, Hector?" Micah seemed to be the resident icebreaker.

"Uh... f-fun...?" The question had him dead to rights.

"Yeah. You know. What do you like to do in your spare time?"

'Garovel, save me...' He could hear the reaper laughing.

'You don't want to tell them you beat up murderers and drug dealers?'

'Garovel!'

'Just pose the question back at them and listen to their answers. Then go from there.'

"Um... what do you guys do for fun?"

"Oh," said Micah, looking at the others, "well, as a group, we like to go to movies and stuff together, but they're expensive, so we can't always go."

"Yeah, but parks are free. Nathan, Sheryl, and Gregory all have dogs that they like to take."

"You remember that time when Duro started humping that one lady having a picnic?"

"Duro--that's Gregory's dog--he's ma.s.sive. That lady was freaking out like you wouldn't believe. I thought she--"

'Holy s.h.i.t, Garovel, you're a genius...'

'You're welcome.'

Micah looked at him. "But you never answered the question, Hector."

'f.u.c.k!'

'C'mon. Just make something up.'

"I... uh... I like to, uh... ah..." He could feel himself turning red.

'Tell them you're into metalwork. That's kinda true.'

"I like to work with... metal..."

"Metal?" said Sheryl.

"Yeah, like... welding... and stuff..."

"That's cool," said Gregory. "What kind of stuff do you make?"

"Ah... I, uh..."

Sheryl giggled. "Micah, where did you find this guy? He's so shy--it's adorable! Makes me want to just wrap him up in a blanket and take him home with me!" She took his arm in both of hers.

Hector jolted away from her and out of his seat. His chair toppled over, and everyone at the table stared at him. "Ah--" He flushed even redder than before. "S-sorry... I just--ah. Y-you're all s-so nice... w-we should definitely do this again, but, uh... I-I just remembered that I... uh... I gotta go." He fled.

In the hall, navigating through the crowd, he looked back to see if any of them were following, but he only saw Garovel.

'What the h.e.l.l was that?' the reaper said.

'I... I-I don't know, she just... she surprised me... and I... ugh... I really f.u.c.ked that up, didn't I?'

'No, I'm sure it's fine. Just a bit unexpected. Do you also have a phobia of women?'

'N-no, I think it's just... people in general. Maybe, um... maybe girls slightly more than guys, but, um...'

Garovel sighed.

'I mean... it was th-the physical contact...'

Garovel sighed harder.

'If I'd known! That she! Was gonn-! I wouldn't have--! Agh!'

'Okay, I get it. You have trouble with friendly people. Relax.'

He rested against his locker and took a long breath.

'That's it. You're safe now. The big bad girl can't get you anymore.'

'You... you f.u.c.k...' He gave a weak laugh. 'Why am I like this, Garovel...? Why is nothing ever easy...?'

'I don't know, Hector. But I can't say I dislike this part of you.'

'R-really? I thought it annoyed you...'

'No, no. If anything, I get annoyed FOR you. Not AT you.'

'Huh...'

'It's important you understand that. I can't really be annoyed at you when I see you trying so hard all the time.'

He nodded. 'Thanks... I guess I sorta knew that a little... but I, uh... yeah...'

'Now you know it a lot.'

Later in the day, he paid off his equipment fine. He'd stuffed a thousand or so troa in his bag before coming to school, which was obviously more than he needed, but he wanted to be prepared. It did feel a bit odd carrying so much money around school with him. He wasn't sure how he would explain the money if someone searched his bag, so he kept the strap around his arm or wrist at all times.

He bought a few sheets of metal from the carpentry club's storeroom and settled at a table all to himself.

'You're going to make a helmet out of that? It looks pretty flimsy.

'Thicker metal would need to be melted down and recast. Which... would be great, but... we don't have a furnace. I need to weld multiple layers of this metal together if I want something resilient.'

'Sounds tedious.'

'Thinner metal is easier to cut, and I should be able to shape it with just my hands and a hammer. But I need to make sure the measurements are perfect with each layer or the welding won't be very strong.'

'You seem to know what you're doing.'

'I have some experience, and... I, uh... I did some reading last night. But, um... even though I know what to do, I'm not sure how well it'll turn out, honestly... If I screw up too badly with the hammer, it might not even fit around my head...'

'So you need to concentrate, is what you're saying.'

'Uh... yeah...'

He began drafting. He measured the circ.u.mference of his head in five different places, then the distance from the far corner of one eye to the other. He reckoned that a single slit for both eyes together would save cutting time and hopefully provide better visibility. Ear holes wouldn't be necessary, he decided, nor would holes for the mouth and nose, but there was one major problem: the jaw.

Shielding the area under his jaw was absolutely vital. His all-too-brief fight with Colt a.s.sured him of that point.

He decided to just cut off the bottom half of the face completely and then screw it back on so that it could swing freely over the top half. It would look like some kind of gigantic underbite, but it would protect below his chin while still allowing him to fit his head into the thing.

Lance ventured over after a while. "What're you making?" he asked.

"...A, uh... a helmet. Or helm, I guess."

"Oh, that's awesome," said Lance, eyeing the sketches. "It's too bad you're not allowed to make a sword to go with it. That'd be amazing."

"I don't think I'd be able to forge a very good sword, anyway," said Hector. "It's really difficult. I mean, people used to do that as their entire profession."

"Yeah. Swordsmiths were pretty rare, though. You'd have to be friggin' legendary to make a living off of swords alone."

"Yeah..."

"It would be amazing, though."

"Yeah."

"Maybe I could make something else to go with your helm. Like a shield. Oh, or some gauntlets."

Hector raised his brow at him. "You can make gauntlets? That sounds so difficult. I mean... the links around the fingers would be brutal..."

"I bet I could do it," said Lance. "Maybe."

"W-well, that sounds awesome. I'll, uh... I'll help you if I can."

"Cool." And Lance went off to work, leaving Hector slightly dumbfounded at what just happened.

He had to get permission from Ms. Trent to use a table saw, and she had to supervise while he worked. There was only one saw with a carbide-tipped blade, but it didn't get used much since most of the students worked with wood.

And as he eyed the blade, he realized he could save himself more time if he forewent the eyehole as its own cut and just merged it with the cut for the jaw pieces. He quickly remarked the metal and set about cutting. The carbide made short work of it, and soon enough, instead of three sheets of metal, he had six separate pieces.

A brief trip to the miller gave him the holes needed for the jaw. Next he had to mold the three head pieces into similar enough shapes that they could be securely welded together; and then do the same for the jaw pieces. He started hammering.

This would be the most time-consuming stage by far, Hector knew. Welding would also take a while, a.s.suming he managed to accomplish this part properly, but there was a tremendous amount of measuring and remeasuring and hammering and rehammering needed in order to achieve the desired shapes.

'It's time we discuss what to do about Colt, don't you think?'

Hector didn't stop hammering. 'I want to help him.'

Garovel paused. 'Are you sure about that? He killed four innocent people, you know.'

'Yeah... I know... and I'm not sure I can forgive that, but... you said he has children...'

'I did, yes. But being a father doesn't absolve him of his crimes.'

He stopped to remeasure. The forehead was still too broad. 'He's trying to protect them,' Hector thought, 'and even if... even if he doesn't deserve our help... his children still do... I mean, don't they?'

The reaper stared at him a moment. 'You continue to surprise me, Hector.'

He felt the blush coming on and stopped his hammer before he screwed up the next hit.

'Hmm. A rescue mission, then.'

'Yeah...'

'Then I suppose we'd be fools not to attempt an alliance with Colt.'

'Eh... you really think he'll listen?'

'I don't know. His circ.u.mstances are uniquely precarious. It's hard to say how he'll respond to anything at this point. But I don't think offering him our aid will pose any risk to us, so we might as well try it.'

'Okay...'

'I'll go keep tabs on him while you work. Tell me when you're done.'

'Right. But, uh... I'm gonna be here a while...'

'If you have to leave before it's done, then so be it. But keep at it until I tell you otherwise.' Garovel left, and Hector returned to his work.

He knew he would need to stay extremely late if he wanted to finish the helm. Thankfully, this was a common occurrence in the club. Members would routinely hang around several hours after other clubs wrapped up, and oddly, Ms. Trent never seemed to mind very much. As long as there were at least a couple of students still around, she would just stay in her office and read a book or some such thing, employing ear plugs for any machining noise.

It was convenient, yes, but Hector knew there were other reasons why some of his peers did not want to go home.

At length, he felt the shapes were as good as he could get them. He lathered an adhesive between the layers of the metal and positioned them into place. He checked out a welding torch, ap.r.o.n, gloves, and mask, and then started melting the edges together. He added lines down the center of the metal as well, both inside and out.

After a while, Ms. Trent came out of her office. "It's gotten dark out, Hector. I'm closing up shop."

He released the trigger on the torch and lifted his mask. "I-I just need a few more minutes. I'm almost done."

"Done?" She approached and a.s.sessed his work. "You didn't even have the drafting started when you came in today, right?"

"Eh, y-yeah..."

"Impressive. A bit rough still, but you work quickly."

"Ah... th-thank you... I just... I need to get it done."

"Need?"

"I mean... I really want to get it done."

"Hmm. Aren't you tired?"

He shook his head.

"You certainly know how to stay focused; I'll give you that." She smirked faintly. "A few more minutes. But then we're outta here. I've got an important home life, you know. My dogs need to be fed."

"Yes, ma'am..."

He finished up the welding, screwed the jaw into place, stuffed the helm in his bag, and exited the building with Ms. Trent.

"You okay to get home?" she asked.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure? We're not supposed to give students rides, but I can't just let you walk home in the dark."

"No, really. I, uh... I mean, uh... my parents should be here soon."

"Then you won't mind if I wait with you."

He grimaced. "Uh... th-that's not necessary."

"Oh, I insist," she said.

He sighed.

"They're not coming, are they?"

He had to think of something. Lying wasn't working. He decided to try a version of the truth. "No, they're not," he said. "I'm not going home yet. I h-have somewhere else I want to go first."

"Aha. Somewhere you'd rather not tell a teacher about, is that it?"

He nodded his head to the side a little. "Y-you could say that..."

"Alright," she said. "It's not my business. But stay out of trouble, Hector. You're a good kid."

He watched her go out into the parking lot and drive off in a white compact.

He pulled out the helm as he started walking and held it up to inspect. He hadn't been able to look at the finished product very closely before leaving the workroom. He turned it over in his hands.

'Wow, this looks like s.h.i.t...'

Garovel laughed. 'Are you done?'

'Yeah... I mean, it's functional... but the face is all dented from the hammer. I could smooth it out with the grinder, but that'd weaken the metal...'

'Substance over style, Hector.'

'These corners on the jaw piece are going to dig into my neck if I don't shave them down...'

'You want to stay and keep working?'

'I can't. The clubroom is closed. I don't think there's anyone even left in the school...'

'Then you might as well get over here.' Garovel started giving directions.

'So, uh... what's Colt been doing?'

'Sleeping, mostly.'

'The whole day?'

'Yeah. But then, he is the most wanted man in Brighton right now. I can't imagine daylight being very friendly to him.'

'Oh yeah...'

'But he's awake now. Looks like he's preparing to leave.'

'Any idea where he's going?'

'No. But it must be something important if he's risking exposure. He's taking a gun with him.'

Hector started running. Soon, he reached Brighton's inner city and asked for more directions. Garovel gave them, but Colt was moving now, so following was made more difficult. Hector wasn't empowered with strength, either. His body still ached in protest every time his feet hit the pavement.

He finally stumbled to a stop when he saw Garovel.

'You don't look so good,' the reaper said, grasping his shoulder.

Relief washed through him. 'Where is he?'

Garovel pointed toward an alley behind a department store.

Hector slipped his head into the helm.

'It doesn't look so bad,' the reaper observed. 'The dents make it look a bit abnormal, but in a good way. An imposing way. How does it fit?'

He rubbed his neck. 'Could be worse, I suppose...' He made his way over to Colt.

When Colt spotted him approaching, the man's posture stiffened and his hand moved for his coat pocket. "Who the...? Wait. It's you, isn't it? I heard you were causing trouble. Looking to avenge your partner, are you?"

"No, I... I, um..."

Colt squinted at him.

'Calmly. Deliberately. At your own pace, Hector.'

"I... know about your children, Officer Colt."

"Do you, now?"

"I'll be brief," said Hector. "I'm going to rescue them, because... whatever I think about you... your children are innocent."

Colt seemed amused. "You're going to rescue them," he said. "And how, exactly, are you going to accomplish this feat? Do you know where they are?"

"I don't... have to tell you that..."

Colt revealed his gun, but kept it pointed low. "Hold on, kid. I'm not going to let you run in and put them in danger."

"They're already in danger..."

"The only thing keeping them safe is me," said Colt. "My actions. As long as I do what he wants, they're not in danger."

"What happens... when he wants you to do something... that you can't do?"

"I'll do anything. You understand that, kid? There are only two lives that matter to me, and mine ain't one of them."
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Hector was quiet a moment. He took off his helm. "I've never had a partner," he said, holding it under his arm.

"You're lying," said Colt. "You're that kid's twin or something. It's the only explanation."

"Then shoot me," said Hector. He walked closer. "Shoot me right in the head... and then you'll see..."

"Stupid kid. Are you suicidal?"

'Don't answer that.'

"I thought you said you'd do anything," said Hector.

Colt glowered and holstered his weapon. "Alright," he said, "but I won't waste a bullet." He drew his knife, and Hector scarcely saw the blade coming before it drove through his eye socket.

Darkness. Hector reawoke on the pavement, Colt dragging him toward the trunk of his car. He called out to the man. "Hey..."

Colt dropped Hector's legs. "Impossible..." He backed up against the car as he watched Hector stand up again.

"Is this... proof enough?"

Colt just stared at him, face like stone.

"I want information," said Hector.

"You seem to have plenty of information already," said Colt. "What else do you need?"

"Uh..."

'The ident.i.ties of other double agents. We don't need any more surprises.'

"Tell me who else... um... who else Rofal has on the police force... or anywhere else I should know about."

"The only other cops I know about are Toller, Robstoy, and Vance." He paused, furrowing his brow at Hector. "But I... I can look into finding more."

'Get him to ask Rofal about his plans. There seems to be a bigger play.'

"Also... if you can tell me about his plans... I'll have a better idea of what to do after your children are safe..."

"Fine. I'll find out what I can. If that's all, then I have an appointment to keep."

Hector stiffened. "Appointment? If you're going to kill someone..."

"I won't kill him if he cooperates," said Colt.

"Officer Colt..."

"Kid, it's not like I have a choice here."

"I know, but..."

'Tell him to kill you again,' said Garovel.

'Why?'

'We need to know where the children are, and the only way to do that is to have Colt give Rofal what he wants. And Rofal wants you dead.'

"Okay, Officer Colt. Here's what we'll do..."