Un2Dead (Book One of the Un2Series)

The band of man-made light expanded across the floor with a hum and a rattle. The light stopped growing just shy of where Reese sat hunched over, hair hanging like matted fur, trying to make as little contact with the sofa as possible. She ached from head to toe, worse than even that time she had the flu and couldn’t drag herself out of bed. She remembered how Wit had managed to somehow burn chicken soup and how she choked it down as he eagerly watched.

“I promise I will take the best care of you I possibly can,” Wit had proudly proclaimed. Reese had snickered on the inside since an outward snicker would hurt too much.

She glanced sideways at the illuminated patch of floor and watched as a silhouette displaced some of the light. A door closed and locked. The silhouette stood motionless.

“What? You didn’t get enough the first time? Did you come back to suck me dry?” Reese growled.

“Not exactly the response I was hoping for, but it is an interesting offer.”

The voice didn’t register for just a second. Not because it was unfamiliar but because it was unexpected.

“Danny!”

Reese started to leap from the couch but was restrained by her own musculature which immediately cramped as she tried to move. She fell back onto the couch, wincing again as she bounced against the leather padding. Wit was immediately at her side.

“Don’t move, stay still.” Wit tried to maintain a sense of calm even as his insides churned with sympathy pains. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

“I hope that doesn’t include chicken soup,” Reese laughed, then winced in pain.

“You’ll never let me forget that, will you?”

“Not on your life.” She struggled to sit upright. Wit guided her as gently as he could. ”So, what’s new?”

“Not much, how about you?” Wit gingerly moved the hair away from Reese’s face. He gasped at the damage to her once alabaster skin and hoped she didn’t notice.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That noise. Did you gasp?”

“No. I . . . .”

“You gasped, as in drew a breath! You’re breathing? How?” Reese pulled herself forward and moaned.

“It isn’t important. What matters is we’re together, here and now. Let’s focus on that and making you comfortable.” Wit gently positioned her on the couch so he could sit alongside her. ”What can I do for you?”

“I want to know what you know. What is happening to us?” Reese tried to pull the shroud of hair away from her face causing herself visible pain.

“Here, let me.”

Wit scooted closer as Reese shifted her posture. He carefully gathered strands of hair from either side of her face and pulled them to the back of her head. He repeated the process, weaving a loose braid like when he used to give Sunny a bath when she was a toddler. As he braided he recounted the past couple of days.

“It all started for me when I succumbed to a craving and headed to La Yarara. That’s where something went terribly wrong in the form of a blonde named Jayne.”

“I’ve experienced Jayne. She gave me this delightful make-over,” Reese interjected.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault. Continue.”

“She baited me with chorizo and egg tacos. Before I knew it I was unconscious in the dumpster behind the restaurant. There was some kind of device buried in her neck. It sucked every drop of venom from my head.”

“Is it true you used the ‘Bewitched versus I Dream of Jeanie’ line on her?”

“She told you?”

“Why would you use that line on someone that looks twenty-five at best? I told you that bit is only meant for luring in cougars. You should have realized something was up when a twenty-year-old woman knew who the hell Elizabeth Montgomery was!”

“I was blinded by chorizo and eggs,” Wit lamely admitted.

“She obviously had done her homework. So, what happened next?”

“I felt awful so I thought I would ambush Leslie as he left the gym. You know, to get a little boost from his juicing.”

“Who the hell is Leslie?”

“Oh, sorry. I‘m talking about Conan. His name is actually Leslie. He has been a great help through this. He saved our lives. Well, at least Gary’s. You’ll like him. You can definitely trust him. Anyway, it turned out that I lost my fangs, possibly for good. I’m back on solid food.”

“So, you are alive again?

“I guess so. Anyway, a lot has happened in the past four days. All of it led us here.”

“So give me the ‘Cliffs Notes’ version. Where are we? Why are we here? Are we ever getting out of here?” Reese turned to Wit wearing her “get to the point” face.

Wit took a second to put his thoughts in order. He spit out his rapid-fire answer.

”We are being held in a subterranean grotto by the one-hit wonder DeLeon, formerly known as conquistador Juan Ponce DeLeon, who needs our venom to help recharge a time-traveling suit of armor that he uses as a means to keep himself eternally young.”

Wit waited for a response.

Reese blinked slowly. “You know, considering what has happened to us over the past twenty-five years, that doesn’t sound too crazy. Anything else I should know?”

“He bakes really tasty almond cookies.”

“Daniel.”

“Sorry. You know how I get.”

“Are we going to get out of this?”

“Joey has given me a plan that, if all goes well, will give us a happily ever after.”

“Where is Joey?”

Wit considered telling Reese about Joey’s death at the hands of his own sister but decided the mood was sufficiently grim and telling her wouldn’t help matters, especially if the plan would fix everything.

“They separated us a while back. I guess they didn’t like us whispering to one another,” Wit lied.

“Danny, I don’t know where Sunny is either. You don’t think they would hurt her, do you?” Reese’s eyes welled up.

“They don’t have any reason to harm her. If anything I would think they would want to be able use her as a bargaining tool to keep us in line.” Wit did believe that bit to be true.” So let’s play nice with these assholes and get our baby girl and go home.”

“What’s so special about our venom?”

“It contains the viper venom and that’s what they’re really after. They will combine it with some other elemental items they already had and use it to juice up the armor. DeLeon has been waiting twenty-five years to do this ritual. If he misses this window he won’t be able to rejuvenate for another couple of decades. He is not too keen on waiting into his seventies to try it again.”

“Mr. Witmoore,” Jayne’s voice popped over hidden speakers, “I need you take a shower and put on the garments provided.”

Wit remained seated.

“I mean now. Do I have to remind you of our little talk?”

“No.” Wit raised his head and spoke toward nothing in particular.

“Make sure you wash everything and everywhere.”

“I know how to take a shower. Jeez.”

“You have five minutes, Mr. Witmoore.” There was an audible click as the intercom disconnected.

“It’s over there.” Reese pointed to the privacy panel across the room.

Wit started to lean in to give Reese a kiss, and then paused. “Is there any place that doesn’t hurt?”

Reese touched a spot on her brow directly above her right eye. Wit cautiously placed a kiss on the spot where her finger had been. He headed across the room toward the shower.

“No peeking!” he called as he walked.

“You wish!” was what he expected to hear, and did.

Reese turned and stared out into the grotto, which until now had been blocked from her view. The combination of cave and laboratory looked more like a photo spread from Architectural Weekly than a scene from a horror movie although it felt more like the latter.

Jayne entered through the lab pushing a mobile altar containing the armor. The breastplate was displayed upright with the emblem angled in front of it. The three glass vials filled with elemental fluids and capped with silver sculptured stoppers were nestled in a series of golden tripods arched below the emblem. An intricate wooden carving replicating the design on the emblem stood as a backdrop to the glimmering metal artifacts. Jayne rolled the altar out onto the compass rose and positioned it off to one side. She fussed with the arrangement, making sure it looked perfect. She lit a candle beneath each vial causing them to glow. Their jewel-toned reflections flickered across the armor mimicking the dancing flames beneath them. Jayne gave the altar a once-over and found it to her liking. She tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear, checking her watch as she did. She glanced toward Reese but saw only the reflection of the grotto in the glass wall. She checked her watch again as she passed through the lab and out of Reese’s view.

Wit returned to Reese, ruffling his wet hair with a fluffy white towel and smelling like “Midsummer Meadow”. The scent comforted Reese for a moment, reminding her of home.

“Pretty nice linens for a prison,” Wit quipped. ”But these uniforms leave something to be desired.”

Reese turned to see Wit, shirtless, in flaxen parachute pants and sandals. He tossed his towel onto the couch and spun in place, ending with a double fist pump, hip thrust combo.

“Can’t touch this!” Wit rapped.

“Don’t want to,” Reese responded.

“Ouch.” Wit feigned being wounded.

Reese struggled to her feet and took a few agonizing steps into Wit’s arms. She held the embrace, and tolerated the pain.

A buzz and a soft thud signaled that the intercom system was live again. “I’m headed back to the grotto so you better be ready, Mr. Witmoore.”

“Why is your girlfriend being so formal, Mr. Witmoore?” Reese spoke into Wit’s shoulder as she maintained her embrace.

“She’s trying to intimidate me which, by the way, is so unnecessary considering she can kick my ass.”

Jayne re-entered the lab wearing the same loose pants as Wit. A cowl of the same fabric looped around her neck and draped across her breasts. Her hair was pulled back on the sides and joined in a narrow ponytail that merged with the tresses of hair that bounced off of her shoulders. She carried a tray of fruit and cheese in one hand and a carafe of wine in the other. She set the appetizers on one of the lab tables and nibbled on a cracker. She retrieved a trio of goblets from the base of the mobile altar and set them alongside the carafe. Wit and Reese watched her rearrange the cheeses and reposition the platter like a nineteen-fifties housewife preparing for dinner guests. DeLeon entered the grotto dressed the same as Wit except for the sword he used as a walking stick and the satin robe that seemed to be a wardrobe staple. He plucked a grape for the cluster in the center of the tray and popped it into his mouth. He rearranged the tray to his liking and to Jayne’s dismay. He twirled and flipped the saber with moves worthy of a drum major, finishing with the blade pointed at the captive audience. Jayne nodded. She grabbed a grape for herself and headed for the cell.

“It appears to be that time,” Wit whispered as he kissed the top of Reese’s head.” I love you.”

“I love you, too.”