Acquisitions manager, p.1
Acquisitions Manager, page 1
Acquisitions Manager
Zombie Horde Prevention Task Force #5
L. A. McGarvey
Trouble Twins Publishing
Copyright © 2021 by L. A. McGarvey
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Cover art by: https://selfpubbookcovers.com/Viergacht
Contents
1. How Bryant met Serena
2. Bryant Gets a Pocket Watch
3. Commissioner Stone
4. The Source has Been Compromised
5. Mervert Delivers Unster to the University
6. Serena’s Art Show
7. Bryant Gets a Date
8. Date with Bryant
9. Serena asks Bryant to Model
10. Serena
11. Bryant and Amanda
12. Bryant Gets a Music Lesson
13. The Solarium
14. Too Many Contractors
15. Bryant Has a Chat with Steve
16. Bryant and Serena’s Wedding
17. Bryant Has a Problem
18. Serena gets a Message
19. Serena Showcases Bryant’s Music
20. Agent Dave Shows Up
21. Serena and the ZHPTF
22. Bryant Makes Some Calls
23. Bryant and Braul Have a Conversation
24. Bryant’s Zombie Horde Prevention Task Force Interview
25. Bumfinger Tells Bryant about Unster’s Origins
26. Bryant Speaks to Sargent Dargent
27. Crabbet
28. Bryant gets a call from Crabbet
29. Crabbet
30. Bumfinger Complaining about the Painting
31. Bryant and Crabbet Clear out the Lab
32. Serena Goes Home and Sees the Tank Man
33. Serena Calls The ZHPTF
34. Bryant knows Serena called the ZHPTF
35. Bryant gets a Team Together
36. Serena Calls for Help
37. Bryant finds out Niles’s Plan
38. Bryant Captures Dave on the Transplant Queen
39. Bryant Ditches His Phone
40. Bryant’s Apartment gets Searched
41. Bryant is Distracted
42. Serena sees Storky
43. Sparkle gets a fake ID
44. Bryant's Postcard from Stodgy
45. Bryant Gets Shot
46. Serena Sees Bryant’s Body at the Morgue
47. Bryant’s Funeral
48. Serena gets the Last Postcard
Coming Soon: OUTPOST 23
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Rosemary
Oscar
Also By L. A. McGarvey
About Author
Chapter one
How Bryant met Serena
“This will do just fine. I especially like the basement,” Bryant Otta said as he wandered around the apartment building with the realtor, opening doors, poking in closets and empty apartments. Some of the current tenants were home and allowed the pair inside to inspect their apartments.
“There’s supposed to be old tunnels from rum smuggling underneath there. No one has ever found the door. Interesting history,”
“I like this old building. This top floor solarium is stunning,” Bryant looked out the windows, admiring the view of Heron Lane. He could see Lake Sub Vectus shimmering in the distance.
“Apparently, one of the tenants is an aspiring artist and comes up here to paint occasionally.”
Bryant walked around the room, staring at the stained glass panels in the roof. “Good spot for it,”
“You paint?”
“No. No time for hobbies.” He turned back to the realtor standing by the door, allowing his client to wander unimpeded. “I’ll take it.”
“Excellent. We can go to my office and hash out the details, sign the papers, no problem. The current owner is suddenly desperate to sell,”
Bryant cracked his knuckles, lips twitching into what, if someone used their imagination, might have looked like a smile, then looked at his watch. “How long does it take to get to your office?”
“From here, about twenty minutes, depending on traffic.”
“I will see you there in forty minutes. I want to stay here, enjoy the view for a few minutes.”
“Not a problem. I’ll have everything ready for you when you arrive,”
They shook hands and parted ways.
A few days later, Bryant was back at the building, inspecting it with his contractor. They were down in the basement in the storage room for apartment 601, looking at the engineering drawings and building schematics.
“I think it must be under here,” Bryant said, carefully turning the old, brittle blueprints to match the room.
“All right, all I can do is look. No guarantees we’ll find anything,” the contractor said, as he started tapping the walls and the floor. “If it was me, I wouldn’t put a secret room in the blueprints though.” He kept tapping, working his way around the room. “Sounds hollow over here,” He said eventually.
Bryant came over and listened as the contractor tapped the wall with a hammer. “It does sound different. All right, I’ll leave you to it,”
“You’ll have to. You know I’m going to have to break the wall?”
“Yes, of course,”
“And we’ll have to get some guys on repairing the apartments and stuff so that nobody questions what we’re doing here,”
“Obviously,”
“Bumfinger must be wanting these new facilities pretty badly,”
“Yeah, he’s stepping up production of the merchandise and he needs a quieter place to work.” Bryant surveyed the room. “The experiments can get noisy. Thick walls to muffle them is a necessity,”
The contractor nodded. “We’ll get on it right away, sir. I can have guys here, in, let me see,” he pursed his lips, stabbing his pencil in the air, figuring. He shrugged finally and looked at Bryant. “Probably the first of the week. I’ve got most of them finishing the upgrades on the ship, one on parental leave and one on vacation. I could hire temps, but with this kind of work, well,”
Bryant nodded. “Only approved personnel, as usual. There are some that may be approved shortly, but they’re behind schedule. A training facility problem and there were some equipment malfunctions.”
“I understand,”
Bryant left the room, walked around the basement again, then went back upstairs to where his new building manager was moving into the manager’s apartment on the ground floor.
“Everything all right here, Crabbet?”
“Yeah,” Crabbet went to spit on the floor, noticed Bryant watching him and thought better of it. “Got a couple of security guys on the way here to check things out. Get set up,”
“I’ll leave you to it, then. I have other things to attend to back at Organ Gronation.” Bryant turned and started out the main door, “No smoking those stinking cigars inside,”
“Sure thing, Boss,” Crabbet looked at the cigar he’d pulled from his pocket, sighed, then went out to the front stoop to smoke while he waited for the security people.
Bryant skip-jogged down the steps from the apartment building, running into a woman as he rounded the corner of the building headed for the parking lot.
“Oof!” He instinctively grabbed her elbow.
“Oh, hello,” she said, pushing herself away from him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do a face plant into your abs.” She smoothed his shirt across his chest.
“Hi,” He said. “Not a problem.” He let go of her, taking a step back.
“I’m Serena. I live in the building. Are you the new owner? You must be. I heard about you. You are as handsome as I heard.” She stuck a hand out, stained with orange and purple paint. The glitter in her hair caught the sun.
“Bryant Otta,” he finally said, staring, “and you live here?” He took her hand. She gave it a quick squeeze, then let go. She left paint and glitter behind.
“Oh yeah, with my best friend. I’ve known him forever. We share an apartment, a one-room apartment,”
“Must be close friends,” He said, feeling an unfamiliar pang of jealousy.
“Not quite that close,” she said. “We have bunk beds,”
Bryant, instantly feeling better, smiled. “And what is it you do?”
“I’m an artist,”
“Really? Are you the artist who uses the solarium?”
“Mmm-hmm. I convinced Storky to share an apartment with me so I could afford to live here just to paint up there.”
“Storky? Weird name,”
Serena laughed. “Don’t be silly! It’s his nickname. He’s tall, skinny and always reminded me of a stork when we were kids. Don’t ever call him crane man, he hates that,”
“So you’ve known him a long time then?”
“Oh, yeah. Since we were babies. Our moms have been best friends forever. They keep thinking it would be wonderful if we got married,” Serena wrinkled her nose, “Blech. It’s like dating my brother. Never going to happen. Not that Steve isn’t wonderful.”
“I’m sure,” Bryant said, just to say something, not liking this crane man already.
Serena checked her watch. “I have to go. I’m having an art show next week. You should come check it out.” She handed him a flyer from the tote bag she had slung over her shoulder. She’d posted several already on the bulletin board in the common room of the apartment building.
He took it, not looking at it really. He was too busy staring at Serena. “That would be wonderful,”
She bounced on her toes. “Wonderful. It’s at the Temple of the Arcane arts community hall. I’ll see you there,” she said, turning and running up the front stairs, disappearing inside with a little wave.
He watched her go, gave her a little wave back. When she disappeared, he turned his attention to the flyer, which announced where and when her show was. Pulling his phone out, he put the details in his calendar with three stars, which meant it was vitally important.
Anything else got shuffled around the day of the show.
Chapter two
Bryant Gets a Pocket Watch
“What’s this for?” Bryant asked as Niles Quill handed him a pocket watch.
“You’ll see,” Niles said. “You’ll like it. Trust me,”
“I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, you little weasel,” he said under his breath.
Niles ignored him. He was used to Bryant posturing and making fun of him.
“So what is it we’re doing with the clones today?” Mr. Bumfinger asked. “You said there were going to be improvements in the fights,”
“Just watch.” Niles had a small ring on a chain around his neck. He pulled the chain off over his head. He randomly selected three clones. “You, you and you come with me. The rest of you can wait in the other room.”
He took the clones who stayed into the makeshift boxing ring in the basement of the abandoned restaurant. They’d been trying to train the clones to fight, but they just never really seemed interested, like the Source.
“Please have a seat, gentlemen,” Niles instructed the three clones.
They sat in the folding seats that were already in the ring.
“I want you to close your eyes for a moment,”
“All of us?” one of the clones asked.
“Yes, all of you,” Niles said, exasperated. “All of you close your eyes now,”
Bryant was impressed. He’d never heard Niles give a direct order before. This might be interesting, after all.
“When I tap one of you on the shoulder, you will open your eyes. The other two will keep their eyes closed. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” all three clones replied in unison.
Niles stood in the ring, “Eany, meany, miney, Moe,” He picked a clone, tapping him on the shoulder.
The clone opened his eyes.
“Right, now I want you to watch this carefully and listen to me,” Niles swung the ring on the chain gently back and forth, “Watch it very carefully,’”
The clone followed his orders.
“Now listen,” He murmured in a low voice.
Bryant couldn’t really hear him and didn’t know what he said, but he felt drowsy. This whole thing was boring. He had better things to do. Anything was better than watching Niles trying to come up with stupid new ways to use the organ farms.
His head jerked. He must’ve dozed off or something. That was weird. Disgruntled, he shifted in his chair. Dozing off was for losers.
Niles clapped his hands. “Right, so Mr. Bumfinger, if you’ll come down here, we will repeat the process with a different clone,”
“I’m not sure what the point is, but it seems intriguing.” Bumfinger made his way down to the ring, stumbling down the steps a little when his cane slipped.
Bryant was only marginally concerned. Mr. Bumfinger was stronger than he had been a couple of days ago. He’d had another experimental treatment with the newest formulation of the f451. His affliction had improved slightly since then. At least today he could walk. Two days ago, he’d been confined to a wheelchair.
Bryant vowed to himself to pay closer attention this time. Again, Niles repeated the process where he tapped a clone. The other two remained with their eyes closed. This time he had Mr. Bumfinger mumble whatever it was, and swing the pocket watch Niles had given him. Niles clapped his hands again. Bryant’s head jerked from the sound. What was wrong with him? He never nodded off like this.
“Right,” Niles said as he turned to Bryant. “If you would be so kind as to come down here Bryant,”
Bryant stood up, “Fine. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I think I don’t like it,”
“Oh, I think you will like this quite a lot, Bryant. This is right up your alley,”
Niles tapped the last clone on the shoulder and he opened his eyes.
“What I want you to do, Bryant, is take the pocket watch I gave you, and say these words.” he handed Bryant a slip of paper. “You will eventually memorize them,”
Bryant took the paper, glanced at it for a moment. He crumpled the slip, chucking it to the floor. “I’ve memorized them already,”
“Very good,” Niles said. “Now swing the watch in front of his eyes. He needs to watch it. Now, say the words in a slow, quiet voice, very rhythmic.”
“All right, fine,” Bryant pulled out the pocket watch, doing as Niles instructed, even though he did not enjoy having to listen to Niles.
The clone’s eyes went glassy for a minute, then he blinked and they looked normal again.
“You can put the watch away. And if you would go back to your seats, please,”
Bryant helped Mr. Bumfinger climb the stairs to his seat.
“What do you think he’s doing, Bryant?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t trust him,”
Mr. Bumfinger slapped him on the knee. “You don’t trust anyone,”
“It’s kept me alive,” Bryant said.
Niles vacated the ring, closing the cage behind him, locking the clones inside.
“Alright, this is where it’s getting interesting. You know how we’ve been looking for a way to get the clones to fight?”
“Yes,” Bryant said.
Niles looked smug. “I found a solution.” He turned back to the cage. He picked up the microphone. “All right, clones, I want you to practice fighting,”
The clones didn’t stand up, they just sat there, shifting in their seats, shuffling their feet around the chairs, looking at each other uncomfortably. One of them, somehow silently voted their leader, said, “We don’t like to do that. We get hurt,”
“Come on, try,” Niles encouraged them.
“This is stupid,” Bryant said, standing up, getting ready to leave.
“Sunshine!” Niles said into the mic, the audio system booming.
Suddenly, the clones’ demeanours changed. One of them, the one that said that they didn’t like to fight, stood up, grabbed the chair he’d been sitting on and clobbered both of the other ones across the face. There was instant pandemonium in the cage. After a few seconds, there was only one left standing.
“Coconut!” Niles yelled into the microphone.
The one that was left looked around in horror, dropping the chair. “What happened?”
“Nothing to worry about,” Niles said.
“Everyone’s dead but me. I’m covered in blood. What happened?”
“Don’t even worry about it,” Niles signaled for a few of the other clones to come and take the victor and bodies away.
“Make sure he has a shower,” Niles said.
“And the other two? What do you want us to do with them?”
Bryant said, “Put them in the kitchen recycler, or call Mervert.”
“Yes, Sir,”
As the clones cleared the room, Niles turned to Bumfinger and Bryant. “Well?”
“That was incredible,” Mr. Bumfinger said. “What do you think, Bryant?”
Bryant glared suspiciously at Quill. “I still think there’s something hinky about the whole thing,”
“As you can see, though, it will work for you, Bumfinger and myself,”
“And how does it work exactly?” Bumfinger asked.
“I’m glad you asked that,” Niles said. “The words I gave you, it’s a hypnotherapy phrase, a very powerful one,”
“Obviously,” Bumfinger said, drinking in Quill’s words.
Bryant was still skeptical.
“Combined with the watch that you both have, once the clones are trained to the sunshine clause, you will be able to invoke it without the chant or the watch. You’ll only need to say sunshine, and they will attack whoever you point them at.” Niles looked up at Bryant. “You see? I told you, you would like it.”
