WALKING DEAD

Part II

By Wesley Overhults

Manhattan, New York

“I’m really going to pay you back for this,” muttered Quake under her breath as she leaned against the wall of a building and surveyed the streets before her.

“That almost sounded like a threat,” said Finesse into the radio that Quake had concealed in her top. “Vice squads do these things all the time, Agent Johnson. I don’t hear any of those girls complaining about the hassles of their jobs.”

“You better be right about his comfort zone,” warned Quake.

“I make it a point to always be right,” reminded Finesse. “I know that vexes everyone else around me but it’s something they have to live with.”

“I don’t see how normal women stand this stuff,” Daisy muttered.

“It’s a necessary evil,” responded Finesse. “I prefer to think of it as a means of gaining tactical advantage over a man. Sex is nothing but a weapon to use as part of one’s agenda. I assume you have enough SHIELD training that you can easily understand that concept. It’s really just a matter of acquiring leverage.”

“Remind me never to ask you about your thoughts on marriage,” commented Wipeout.

“An outdated and archaic concept,” Finesse noted. “Really, the idea of tying yourself to another person for the rest of your life is appalling to me. I would honestly rather die penniless than force myself to go through with such a ritual.”

“Hang on,” said Quake as she noticed someone walking down the street that looked out of place. “I think I might have him so you’re going to have to table this amazingly cynical conversation of yours.”

She strode towards the man in the long coat, a feat hindered by the heels she was wearing. Daisy wasn’t used to any of this. It wasn’t as if she was unattractive. She had been hit on by plenty of guys in the past and had plenty of experience with relationships. She was always a tomboy though and had been ever since she was a child. She was more the type to play baseball with the guys than dress up with the other girls. Her line of work and its dress code didn’t exactly allow for anything that wasn’t functional during combat. Even though she never exactly thought of herself that way, Daisy was a soldier and soldiers definitely did not wear anything like what she had on at that moment.

“Leave,” said the man without even turning to confirm that Quake was behind him.

“Planned on it but not without you,” came her husky reply, getting in front of him and settling into a pose provocative enough to catch his attention. She was thankful that her hair was short enough to easily hide underneath the wig.

Justin Kenton looked at the woman in front of him and blinked, trying to dislodge the ghost of a memory from his mind. The woman looked a lot like his mother, enough that it gave him pause. He could feel the familiar itch in the back of his brain and the dark energy flared in his hands. Quake knew he wasn’t going to be able to resist it. Seeing a prostitute that looked enough like his mother would set him off and that was exactly what she wanted.

“I wouldn’t mind the company,” admitted Sin-Eater though Quake could easily read his intentions.

“Let’s talk in private,” she suggested, sauntering towards an alley and then turning back to look at him, crooking her finger and motioning for him to follow her.

He followed her into the alley and with a simple flash of black energy he had a gun in his hand. Quake smiled at how predictable Sin-Eater could be once his pattern was deduced. She turned and stared at him, counting the seconds in her head. She watched his trigger finger twitch and moved to dodge the glowing projectile that came out of the gun. Something came up from out of the ground behind Sin-Eater and got him in a bear hug. Kenton struggled against Composite but the leader of the Secret Warriors held him fast. Quake approached her captured prey and pressed both hands to the sides of his head. She activated her power and sent the seismic vibrations into his skull, a move that would have killed a normal man. The attack scrambled Sin-Eater brain enough to knock him into unconsciousness.

“That was over pretty quick,” noted Composite as he let the killer go and watched his limp body hit the ground.

“Good now we can get some answers and I can get out of these clothes,” said Quake. “These heels are murder on my feet.”

Somewhere Else

Requiem tried to process exactly what the woman standing before him had said. She had implied that she was his mother but that wasn’t possible considering his mother was dead. Then again, he was apparently dead now as well so it wasn’t completely implausible. Yet in all this time that he had possessed his powers, Sebastian had never talked to his mother even once.

“You’re my mother?” he asked skeptically. “And you’re dead?”

“Yes and I assume it’s been for a long time,” replied the woman. “You were a newborn the last time I saw you, Sebastian.”

“Why have I never spoken to you before then?” inquired Requiem. “I’ve talked to what feels like every dead person in existence and yet I’ve never had a conversation with my own mother. Tell me why.”

“Because I didn’t want to find you,” she admitted. “You had to be kept safe, Sebastian.”

“From what?” he questioned, the indignation growing in his voice.

“From someone,” she answered. “A long time ago, when I was alive and my name was Bridget, I met your father Anthony Druid. He was a kind man but we both had our share of personal demons to face. He and I dreamed of building a life together but forces outside of our control drove us apart. He never even knew I was pregnant with you.”

“Why keep a secret like that from someone you claim to love?” asked Requiem.

“I belonged to an order of druids who worshipped Morrigan,” explained Bridget. “I trust you studied enough Celtic mythology to know who that is.”

“I’m aware of Morrigan,” stated Requiem. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

“Our order was what people today would define as a ‘death cult’,” she continued. “Anthony wanted me to break away from them but I couldn’t. I had sworn my allegiance to them and I couldn’t go back on that oath.”

“But something made you break it,” realized Requiem.

“Yes,” said Bridget with a solemn nod. “When I found out I was pregnant with you, I realized that life is more beautiful than death. The leader of my order could sense my waning faith so she called me into her chambers one night. We had a heated argument that led to violence. By the time the argument was over, I had killed her.”

“You murdered her,” corrected Requiem.

“It wasn’t intentional,” clarified Bridget. “I had bigger problems though. With the leader of my order dead and me responsible, I was as good as dead myself. I had to get away from them before they killed both of us but there was something else I had to do.”

“And what was that?” asked Requiem.

“Our order possessed a sacred blade, a sword that legend said was once wielded by Morrigan,” said Bridget. “The sword was said to command the power of all the lost souls who had died in battle. The leader of my order wanted to use the blade’s power to create an army of undead warriors and enslave the world. That fateful night when we fought, she was in the process of trying to transfer the sword’s power into herself. When I killed her, she had just finished completing the incantation but she wasn’t the one who acquired the sword’s power. That power was bestowed upon me. I struggled to control it as best I could but when you were born, that power left my body with you and I died minutes afterward. The last thing I ever saw was your face and I have spent an eternity cursing myself for the burden I unknowingly put upon you.”

Requiem didn’t say anything. He stood there stunned by the revelation. It made perfect sense when he thought about it. It explained the macabre nature of his abilities and the sudden power fluxes he had experienced as of late. The newfound power he had displayed didn’t come just from him, it came from the magic his mother had unintentionally bestowed on him.

“How do I remove it?” he asked finally. “I don’t want this power inside me anymore.”

“Only someone with powerful enough magic can get the sword’s power out of you but you can’t let them do it,” warned Bridget. “Whoever killed you wants that power, Sebastian, and you have to keep it from them.”

“And how do you know that I won’t turn out just like the woman you killed?” demanded Requiem. “How do you know this evil inside me won’t corrupt me too?”

“Because your father was kind enough and decent enough to save my life,” answered Bridget. “Neither of us would have been perfect parents to you, Sebastian, and I would never have wished this life on you. I searched for a way to rid myself of the sword’s magic but I couldn’t find someone powerful enough to do it. I’m sorry, Sebastian. I have spent eternity regretting all this and I don’t blame you if you hate me, but you must keep that sword’s magic away from those of my old order. They won’t stop trying to take it from you.”

Sebastian couldn’t say anything in response. He saw a look of confusion on his mother’s face and then realized what was happening. His body was flickering in and out of reality. He could feel himself being pulled away from her and he tried to hold her gaze even as his mind assimilated everything he had been told.

“I love you,” he managed to get out before he vanished from Bridget’s sight. “I promise that I won’t let anyone get their hands on the sword’s power.”

“I love you too, my son,” she whispered though he was no longer around to hear it. She knew what had happened to him. Whoever killed him was trying to resurrect him because they thought he knew where the sword was.

Requiem opened his eyes and gasped, his lungs greedily sucking in the fresh air. He looked around and found himself held to the floor by bands of what he assumed was magical energy. He titled his head up enough to get a good look at the woman who was clearly the one in charge of the gathering of mages. It stood to reason that she was the one who was after the sword.

“My name is Agrona and you must be the famous Sebastian Druid,” said Agrona. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Sebastian. I knew your mother once upon a time. The stupid cow thought she could betray everything our order stands for and steal our most valuable possession from us. I trust you probably spoke to her just now and she filled in the blanks for you. Where’s the sword, Sebastian?”

“There are almost two thousand stabbing fatalities in this country every year,” said Requiem in return. “You would think that knives or other sharp objects are considered weapons of the past in the age of the handgun but the statistics tell a different tale.”

“You are trying my patience,” Agrona warned him. “Tell me where your mother hid that sword or I will be forced to find her body, resurrect her, and kill her right in front of you. For someone who is so fixated on death, I’m sure you would derive some sort of sick pleasure from watching the woman who gave you life die right in front of you.”

“Don’t touch my mother,” snarled Requiem and Agrona could see the sword’s power flash in his eyes.

“Well, that’s an interesting eye condition you have there,” she said. “I think we’re going to have to take a closer look at that.”

SHIELD Helicarrier

“You’re wasting your time,” stated Sin-Eater as he looked at the one-way glass where he knew his captors to be. “You can’t threaten me with jail or death or anything else. I have nothing left to lose.”

The only sound that came as a response was someone opening the door and stepping into the room. Neon looked at Sin-Eater and tried to control herself. She sat down at the table and looked across it at the undead vigilante. They had cuffed his hands behind the back of the chair he was in and had shackled his feet to its legs. He wasn’t going to be moving from it at any point in the near future so she was relatively safe.

“I read your file,” said Stephanie. “You were around my age when you died.”

“You send a child in here to question me?” inquired Sin-Eater, still keeping his attention on the glass and not on Neon. “That’s almost an insult.”

“They’re not going to talk to you so you might as well talk to me,” said Neon. “I want to know what you did with Sebastian. Why did he die this time when he didn’t before?”

“You love him,” said Sin-Eater in return. “I saw it the first time we met. I wouldn’t worry. Your boyfriend’s in good hands.”

“Give him back,” ordered Neon.

“Not my call to make,” replied Sin-Eater with a malicious grin. “I have to admit, that was a nice trick your agent pulled with the wig and the outfit. I guess I’m rather predictable.”

“Your boss raised you from the dead,” said Neon. “What’s it like, being dead and all that?”

“I’ll show you firsthand when I get free,” promised Sin-Eater. “You have no idea what she did to me and, trust me, it’ll be way worse for him. She’ll get what she wants in the end.”

“Which is what?” questioned Neon.

“Something that should’ve been hers in the first place,” answered Sin-Eater.

Without warning, Sin-Eater strained against his cuffs with his superhuman strength. He managed to break them and then reached across the table, grasping Neon by the throat with one hand and materializing a gun in the other, its barrel pointed straight at her skull. To her credit, Stephanie didn’t flinch. Her eyes flicked to the door where the rest of the Warriors stood and she waved them off.

“Go ahead and find out if I’m guilty,” dared Neon. “I heard you say that your bullets only punish guilty people. Try to punish me and see what happens.”

Sin-Eater searched her eyes and saw no fear in them. Instead he only saw the aching pain in her soul and saw that he was the cause of it. Something within the pit of his being stirred. The conglomeration of souls that he had stolen from his victims surged up and threatened to overwhelm him. There were innocent people just like Stephanie trapped inside of him. His bullets didn’t punish only the guilty. They just killed whoever they struck without care or concern. That didn’t make him some holy avenger on a mission of mercy. It just made him a murderer and Agrona was the cause of it. What did he owe her anymore? He couldn’t even say that he owed her his life because this wasn’t a life. She had twisted his mission to her own ends and Kenton decided that she would pay for it with her life.

“The woman who resurrected me is named Agrona,” he said to Neon. “She wants Sebastian because she believes he alone knows the location of a mystical sword that’s said to control the souls of the damned.”

“So she resurrected you to help her get it,” finished Neon. “So I guess the question now is: what’re you going to do about it?”

Sin-Eater dropped Neon and turned to the rest of the Warriors. He saw that they were ready to die to defend their friend and defend what they believed in. He could respect that in a strange way because his conviction was equally as strong. He could allow himself to work with these misguided fools so that he could exact his revenge on Agrona. After that, he could easily kill them and return to his crusade.

“I’ll take you to her hideout,” decided Sin-Eater. “She and I must discuss new terms of our arrangement.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” reminded Finesse as the Warriors moved through the streets of New York City in their car. “You could have easily allowed Quake or one of the other SHIELD agents to do the interrogation.”

“My boyfriend’s the one who’s in danger,” reminded Neon as she turned her gaze from the bright lights of the city that never slept. “I guess you’ll probably tell me I’m being too emotional or something else equally condescending.”

“Actually, I was going to tell you that I respect the courage you displayed,” admitted Finesse before looking at the trunk where their secret weapon was kept. “Your idea of what to do with our uneasy ally is something I find highly amusing.”

“Assuming that this woman will resurrect Sebastian like she resurrected Kenton,” broke in Composite from his position in the driver’s seat, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror and meeting Neon’s. “This is a pretty ballsy play, Steph.”

“He gave us all the info we needed so why not let him come along for extra firepower?” asked Neon. “I thought if anybody could appreciate us doing something shady with a bad guy, it would be you.”

“Did the zombie get out of the trunk?,” asked Wipeout. “I definitely just heard the sound of shots being fired.”

“We all have to do what we all have to do,” said Composite, ignoring Wipeout as he pulled the car to a stop and got out. “Pop the trunk and let Kenton out. We need to make this look good.”

“Agrona will never agree to a trade,” stated Sin-Eater as Composite helped him out of the trunk since his hands were cuffed behind him once more. “I am less than nothing to her and Druid is the prize she’s wanted all along.”

“It’ll be a good enough way to surprise her,” countered Composite as he pushed Kenton forward. “Lead the way, zombie boy.”

Sin-Eater began walking towards the building Agrona was using as a base of operations. The Warriors trailed behind him, always making sure he stayed in front to use as a human shield if necessary. Composite figured that Kenton was their best option for taking point and that he could soak up whatever firepower Agrona or her minions threw at him. Kenton led them down the street but stopped short before coming to the proper building. He simply nodded in its direction but the Warriors couldn’t see anything unusual about the building that would give him pause.

“There are wards of protection on it,” explained Sin-Eater. “What you can’t see is that she has members of her order guarding its entrance, hidden behind the veil of magic she’s used. I’m the only one who can pass through the barriers and get into that building.”

“And that would be the reason why we have you along,” said Composite as he motioned to the building. “Keep marching.”

“If you insist,” said Sin-Eater, leading the Warriors up to the building. “The guards are there even if you can’t see them. Go ahead and negotiate with them if you want.”

“Great, I enjoy talking to nothing,” said Composite, stepping up beside Sin-Eater and looking at the door of the building. “I’m sure you guys can see through whatever this magical shield is so you know that your boss’s pet is here with us. You have one of our teammates and we have one of your own. Drop the cloak and get your boss to come outside so we can discuss a trade.”

The air in front of them began to shimmer and Composite took that as a sign that it was alright to proceed. He shoved Sin-Eater through the magical curtain and then followed, the rest of his team coming with him. Past the barrier, they could see things for what they really were and could see the members of Agrona’s order guarding the door, dressed in their elaborate robes.

“This is as far as you go,” warned one of the guards. “We sent one of our brothers inside to confer with the mistress on how to proceed. You will wait until we tell you her decision.”

“You’re stalling,” spoke up Finesse. “Let’s cut the crap here and get to what’s really going on. The sword doesn’t exist, does it?”

“We have seen the sword,” said the lead guard. “It was in the possession of our true leader until the traitor murdered her and stole the sword. Our mistress could not divine its location. That traitor was the boy’s mother.”

“Look, I’ve stolen everything there is to steal,” explained Finesse. “If this sword really existed then someone somewhere would have wanted it and they probably would’ve come to me to get it. I’m the best there is at taking things that don’t belong to me. So if I’ve never even heard of this magical sword then it’s because it doesn’t exist.”

“Which means this entire thing is all a big lie,” added Composite. “You’ve been following a crazy woman who’s deluded herself into thinking that there’s something out there that can give her ultimate power when really this thing doesn’t even exist.”

The guards were about to voice their displeasure when the door to the building exploded and a woman came out of it. Magical energy of midnight-black coloring swirled around her and everyone could tell she was obviously angry about something and it didn’t take a genius to figure out just what that something was.

“You have my attention,” she said before turning her gaze towards Sin-Eater. “I had such high hopes for you, Justin. It’s such a shame to see that you’ve placed your faith in these misguided fools instead of in the person who brought you back from the grave. I thought you had a sense of honor about you. Where is the honor in defying the woman who gave you life again?”

“It lies with the same honor as that woman telling me that the power she gave me only punishes the guilty when in reality it only compounds my own guilt,” retorted Sin-Eater.

“Ah so you figured that one out then,” said Agrona. “It doesn’t matter. The magic I used to resurrect you also makes sure you can’t so much as even shoot me a dirty look. As for these pathetic children, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble dealing with them.”

“Where’s Sebastian?” questioned Neon.

“He shouldn’t be your concern right now,” warned Agrona, her eyes flashing with magical energy. “Now you have to answer for trying my patience and wasting my time. You see, I know exactly what you were planning on doing. You think that you can try to trick a magician? That’s laughable at best and at worst it’s an insult I take very personally. I know that there are five of you and that one of you isn’t here right now. I’m guessing he snuck into my hideout to try and rescue your friend. You’re too late.”

The Warriors readied themselves for Agrona to attack as the color of the power in her eyes changed from black to a sickly and familiar shade of green. They realized that they were too late to stop her. She had already absorbed the magic of the sword from Requiem and now she was its owner.

“I think we might want to reassess this plan,” realized Finesse as the power of the sword sprang from Agrona.

The Warriors could see the souls of fallen warriors inside the green beams of magical energy. The power of the sword compelled them to fight for its user and anyone who stood against them would be slain and would join them.

Wipeout had liquefied his body almost as soon as Agrona had appeared. Composite had told him that he had to wait for the right moment to slip inside the building and Frankie couldn’t think of a better time than the present. With all eyes focused on Agrona’s entrance, it was easy for him to slip past the guards in his water form and get to Sebastian as fast as possible.

“You better not be dead, Sebastian,” said Wipeout, sloshing his way through the building and blasting any of Agrona’s henchmen that tried to interfere.

One of the henchmen made a few hand gestures, his eyes glowing with energy as he cast his spell. A jet of flame erupted from his hand and surged towards Wipeout. Frankie moved out of the way but the heat from the blast evaporated much of his watery body and left him weakened. He managed to hit the mage with a low-level water blast, knocking the man to the floor but only slowing him down for a few seconds. The mage returned to his feet and readied another bolt of fire but something hit him in the back and knocked him to the floor.

“I think that was the most I can manage,” said Requiem, struggling to stay on his feet just as much as Wipeout tried getting back up to his. “The woman . . . Agrona . . . she did something to me when she brought me back to life. I don’t think I’m going to make it much longer.”

“The others are outside dealing with her,” said Wipeout. “Do you have any clue where the sword is?”

“The sword’s . . . not important,” explained Requiem. “The sword’s power was in me. She stole it for herself.”

“Great,” said Wipeout as he saw the green energy of Agrona’s new power flash from outside. “How the hell are we going to stop her?”

“I don’t know . . . but we need to get that power back into me,” said Requiem. “I don’t think I can survive without it.”

“How do you know all this?” asked Wipeout as he moved to help Requiem stay upright.

“When I died, I saw my mother and she told me,” explained Requiem. “I have a bad feeling that we’re greatly outnumbered. I guess what my mother told me was true. The sword’s power allows its wielder to command the souls of those slain in battle.”

Figures with glowing, green auras appeared in the room with Wipeout and Requiem. They looked like walking corpses and they carried a myriad of weapons with them from swords to guns to everything in between. Their garments marked all of them from different time periods. There was a knight from the Middle Ages, a soldier from what looked like World War II, a gladiator from the time of the Roman Empire. The slain warriors hefted their weapons of choice and made themselves ready for the war against the living.

“That’s a lot of zombies,” realized Wipeout as the undead horde began to close in on them. “Something tells me we’re going to be in for a long night and that’s assuming we even make it out of this alive.”

Next Issue: It’s the Warriors against Agrona and her army of undead with their very souls on the line.