More MHI fanfiction shenanigans (Updated 9/23)

[moose42]

ROADKILL!

Who yelled "No shot!" Desanto?

Maybe put "I can't get a shot." or something.

Vampires and zombies woot. I figure the vampires are smart enough to use them to their advantage.

[Jericho941]

Yep, it was DeSanto. I'm gonna tweak that when I post my next update... which will be awhile. It's been on the back burner for awhile.

[Jericho941]

My copy of the Baen version of MHI came in the mail yesterday and I've been plowing through it to refresh my memory on how things work in that world.

Also, Steve is of no relation to the Shacklefords than run MHI. Sorry for any confusion. This sort of thing is why it probably is a good idea not to write fan fiction for stories you haven't read in awhile. I'll probably revise it so he has a different name sooner or later.

-----

A sharp ringing sound pierced darkness, and his skull, leaving pain behind. He struck out blindly, silencing his tormentor briefly, before the sound shot out again from the opposite direction. It was no good; he had been defeated.

DeSanto rolled out of bed to go kill the other alarm clock, which sounded to him like it was roaring with maniacal, electronic laughter. To some people, 8:00 in the evening being "too damn early" just might be a little bit funny, but it shouldn't be that funny. He switched off the alarm and stumbled out of the bedroom, rubbing his forehead.

It was dark early, too. The clouds were blocking out whatever sunlight was left, leaving the sky nearly pitch-black as he poured his coffee. The mug, like virtually everything else in his kitchen, was a solid color. It made the place seem cold, but he liked it that way. Besides, coffee was serious business, and only idiots poured it into mugs with slogans on them as far as he was concerned.

He was about halfway through the first mug when he noticed headlights swinging off the road, on to his driveway. At first he thought they might be someone just using it to turn around, but the headlights didn't complete the turn, and started making their way up to the house. He frowned and headed for the door as his German Shepherd started barking. Anyone he knew would've called first. He glanced at his revolver sitting on the table.

Well, almost anyone. He opened the door anyway, holding on to his dog's collar, and saw that the car was a metallic black Lotus Elise. Yep, should've grabbed the gun.

A woman got out of the car and leaned on the roof, apparently waiting for a response. DeSanto just stood there in his bathrobe, coffee mug in hand, dog in the other, and shrugged. The woman exaggeratedly rolled her eyes and stood, wandering over to him, but stopping just short of his doormat, which was blank except for some flying ducks in the corner.

"Not going to invite me in, Caleb?" she asked, brushing a pine needle from her expensive leather jacket.

"What do you want?" he replied, pointedly ignoring her question.

"Now is that any way to treat your girlfriend?" she asked, almost sounding genuinely hurt.

"Ex, and you know it Kiera. Now I know you didn't come here for the coffee, so what are you doing here?" DeSanto kept a firm grip on the dog's collar to keep her from running off. The animal was wigging out, clearly distressed at Kiera's presence, barking and pulling away. "Easy, Rosie. Easy." The dog looked up at him nervously, panting with her chin against his leg. "Shh, easy." In truth, though, he didn't feel any better about this than Rosie. She seemed to calm down, though, and sat down on his foot. Now getting to a gun quickly was even less likely.

"You know," Kiera said sadly, "she used to like me too. Anyway, I brought you something." She gracefully walked back to the car. DeSanto felt himself breathe easier with the increased distance, however short it was. It wasn't that she looked dangerous in her high-dollar black leather boots and sinfully tight black jeans. It was that she was dangerous, deadly even, and whatever they'd had before, it was gone now, replaced with a primal enmity. He briefly wondered if sheep felt this way when they realized they'd wandered away from the flock and saw some suspiciously pointy ears in the tall grass.

Kiera opened the passenger side door, and a man with a bag over his head flopped out on to the ground, half-in, half-out of the Elise. Kiera dragged him out of the tiny sports car by the handle on the back of his sage green armor and set him down. DeSanto grimaced.

"When you came pulling in here, did you notice a sign out in front of my house that said 'Dead Newbie Storage'?"

"Now don't be like that," Kiera said. "I'm just trying to help, and you wouldn't believe what it took to buy this guy off the vamp that had him. Apparently you guys killed her husband or something the other night. She had a lot of 'fun' in store for him. But here he is. Alive, even. Unconscious, but alive."

DeSanto didn't say anything, just looking skeptical. She rolled her eyes again and clarified with an exasperated sigh: "Really alive. Clinically, scientifically, rationally alive. Happy?"

"No, but I suppose that's good," DeSanto allowed. "Why? What's your angle, Kiera?"

"That's my business," she said. "I happened to be busy with something else, came across a chance to help old friends. Anyway, I've got a busy schedule tonight." She got back into her car and closed the driver side door, but called through the passenger door, before closing it and driving off: "Call me, will you?"

DeSanto didn't reply, merely watching her drive back down the driveway. He looked down at Miner, and then back to the vampire driving off into the night.

"Carl, you're gonna get me into a world of shit," he sighed, and bent down to take the bag off.

[moose42]

I am confused, the Desanto getting out of bed is the same one from the hunter team? Cuz aparently Desanto is a vamp. In the 1st chapter he was playing on the DS.

[AZMARK]

Nah, sounds like DeSanto's ex-girlfriend is a vamp. In Ch.1 his encouter leading to his MHI employment was with vamps and he doesn't talk about it.

[Rusty Ray]

Please, PLEASE, PLEASE, give "Steve Shakleford" the nickname of "Rusty".


HTRN

Sheeeeeeeeeeeee-it I've just read this....And I take deep exception to it mate. I've never, ever worked in a Micky D.

Cheers - Rusty.

[Jericho941]

Nah, sounds like DeSanto's ex-girlfriend is a vamp. In Ch.1 his encouter leading to his MHI employment was with vamps and he doesn't talk about it.

Yep, that's what I was going for.

[Jericho941]

Janine had entered the office of Schenk Consulting Services in a foul mood. It wasn't helped by the music playing at the receptionist's desk: "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey. The receptionist (also secretary, chief researcher and customer service department head), Alfred Doenitz, might've thought it was a great way to start a long night's work, but right now she just wanted silence.

Schenk Consulting Services, a subsidiary of her sister's Kuramoto Corp., was a front. In a business society increasingly clogged with useless middlemen, sub-contractors and domestic outsourcing, you could start up a company that did nothing, give it a vaguely defined purpose like "consulting" and enjoy a corner office in a high-rise without anyone questioning what you really did for a living.

Tonight she was the image of a cutthroat office puke, wearing a conservative charcoal blouse and a black skirt that ended precisely one millimeter above the bottom of her knees. Her patent leather shoes had just enough heel to be feminine, but not enough to be useless and painful. Her hair, grown out at the insistance of her sister, hung just past her shoulders. Her sister thought it looked professional; Janine thought it made her look like a flight attendant for an airline that catered to dead people. Topped off with a perpetual scowl, she looked exactly like the sort of person who worked long shifts, fired people to feel better about it, hit the gym, did yoga, and was bitterly alone.

In short, she looked like she had no life whatsoever.

That was why her reply to Al's cheerful greeting had been little more than a grunt and an up-nod. She went straight to her office, closed the door, and fired up her laptop.

She got the worst out of the way first: Notifying Alabama that she'd let a Newbie get dragged off and killed, or turned. Of course, her next mission would be a daylight search-and-destroy affair to kill the vampire that'd nabbed Miner, and to determine what had happened to him. She already had Doenitz and Grunwald working on that end. It'd make sense to have DeSanto do some poking around, as he lived closest to the area, but he wasn't returning phone calls at the moment.

After she pushed that ugly affair from her mind tackled the virtual mountain of PUFF paperwork. The longest part of the previous night's mission had been collecting all the samples from the slain zombies and vampire. This was the part where she and her team got paid, and she easily zoned out in the rhythm of monotonous form-filling. She actually made it all the way to lunch before she was brought out of her reverie by hunger. Ordinarily she'd have no problem just bringing in her own, but apparently that's not what businesspeople did. She saved her work and headed out the door.

It was relatively easy to find upscale restaurants open late in Bellevue; many of the software developers in the area typically worked ridiculous hours to push their latest project out the door, and ran on criminally low levels of sleep. One of the few luxuries they could spare any time for was good food. Janine went and ate something unapologetically artery-clogging and washed it down with a beer. Hey, her fake company, her rules, right?

She was feeling a bit better when she went back to the office to finish the last of the PUFF paperwork. Another hour-long slog through truly mind-numbing paperwork, she took a bathroom break. Of course, as soon as her hands were good and soapy was precisely when her desk phone rang. She hurried through rinsing and drying, cursing the whole way back to her desk.

"What?" she snapped.

"Well, good evening to you too," replied DeSanto from the other end of the line. "Look, this is going to be tricky to explain, so I'd better just show you. Can you meet me at my place?"

"No, I can't," Janine said. "I am really busy here, so unless it's vitally important-"

"It's about Carl."

Well, that changed everything. Janine paused to consider ferry routes and radar detectors.

"Give me an hour."

[moose42]

Very nice description of the fake company.

[Jericho941]

Okay, I've given Steve a different last name in my story document, but IE goes nuts if I try to edit my posts. Too many words, apparently. I'll just have to let it sit until I can use my own computer, I guess.

Will update soon.