Pryor and Kane: A Modest Proposal

[x-pryor.livejournal.com]

Maddie goes to ask Garrison about teaching zombie survival.






She had been sitting there, chin propped on interlaced fingers, elbows propped on knees, silently observing the figures spar on the mat for, well, long enough for her butt to be numbed by the wooden bench. There was just something intrinsically entertaining about watching two people try and best each other in a match of mental and physical superiority, in which the ideal outcome was someone ending up flat on their back, their will to fight back having been completely annihilated by their opponent. As fun as it was to watch, that wasn't the only reason why Maddie had ventured into the gym; nor was it to work out. No. The reason why she was sitting so still with her laser focus trained on the mats like a honey badger stalking her prey, was precisely because that was exactly what she was doing. But instead of pouncing and tearing them to shreds, Maddie was going to use her words and logic and winning smile, while keeping the shredding in her back pocket just in case.

As the session ended, Kane headed over to the bench, leaving the mats open for the next group. He wondered why he was still bothering with the advanced hand to hand training. Most people seemed to want less structured, more improvised kick fighting that some of the other mansion occupants taught, and he was tempted to just leave it to them. But a sense of duty won out. After all, not only was Kane one of the few professional trained fighters they had, but he'd added to that with long lessons under Eugene Judd and Logan, two men who were the very definition of effective dirty fighting. It was important to pass it on, as it might save someone's life one day.

He settled for stripping the tape off of his hands, and stashing his strength cancelling gloves into his bag. Eventually Mac was going to need to share his secret, since he could only produce equipment at a snails pace, and the mansion alone was starting to run out of baseballs.

Ah ha. The eagle was returning to its nest. Maddie bounced off the bench and reached for a water bottle she had stashed under it. "Water," she asked, thrusting the bottle into his field of vision. "It's apparently the stuff they're going to serve at the Inaugural Dinner. I don't know if that makes it any better or what. But it's from Saratoga?"

Kane took the bottle from her, but placed it beside him on the bench. Unlike his pupil, he hadn't even broken a sweat thanks to his preternatural endurance. "That's very American of you." He said wryly, making the connection between the office of the President and the home of the turning point in the War of Independence. "What brings you up to the gym, Maddie. I thought you were scheduled for your class tomorrow?"

"And that's very Canadian of you?" Any historical or political connection was lost on the teenager, as evident by her puzzled expression. "I mean, that's what they said on the news. That Saratoga drinking water was going to be served at the Inaugural Dinner no matter who's elected." She shrugged and sat back down, straddling the bench and rocking back and forth as she continued to answer Kane's questions. "But I was looking for you. I have something to ask you.

"Mr. Kane, sir." Maddie stilled and sat up as straight as she possibly could. It was imperative that she convey how important this matter really was. "What do you know about zombies?"

"Good Cranberries song. Terrible drink ordered by frat boys and female alcoholics on those awful Real Housewives shows." He said without missing a beat, picking tape from his knuckles.

"Yeah. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," she replied after several moments of sitting in silence, trying to figure out what he meant. "I mean real zombies. Like moaning, flesh eating, undead humanoids."

"I thought you said real zombies. Those are movie zombies." He seemed to take a moment to think. "Or Cape Bretonners. It's a subtle difference."

The furrow on the redhead's brow deepened as his words continued to confuse and befuddle. She was used to old people being strange and out of touch with the world, but this was something else entirely. Perhaps it had something to do with his being Canadian; there was that language barrier after all. She was just going to have to try another approach. "Right. Okay. But you're a Mountie, right?" She spoke at a slightly slower pace. "Royal Canadian Mountain Police. So you, like, know how to survive in the Canadian wilderness and wrestle bears and stuff. Okay, maybe not wrestle-wrestle, but how to defend yourself against one."

"Of course. Generally, with bears, you want to make sure you have someone much slower than you along with you when you meet them." Kane said sagely.

"Well, duh." Maddie rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "Everyone knows that. Push them at the bear and run like the wind. But what if you were alone? I mean you could probably go all 'Rwar!' and rip the bear's head off with your bare hands, but not all of us are bearded Canadian mountain men."

"Generally, if you're not in the position to tear a bear's head off, your options are somewhat limited." He stuffed the last of the tape in his bag. "Are you struggling with a premonition that you're going to be face to face with a bear sometime soon, or did you guys just wear out another copy of 'Brave' during an all-night marathon?"

"No. It was 'The Hunger Games'. But replace 'bear' with 'zombie' and you have yourself a post-apocalyptic scenario that requires adequate preparation." The teenager nodded sagely, all mirth and sunshine replaced with a stony countenance. "I could go on about various theories, but the point is that we the students have come to the conclusion that we must be prepared for a cataclysmic event wherein the one dead roam the earth searching for human flesh to feed on. And with you having that whole 'lone person at the end of the world who builds a stronghold to keep the undead away' vibe, I figured you'd be a good person to ask."

"Just before we get into this, let me get just one thing absolutely correct. You guys, as a group, got together and discussed this? At length?"

Maddie's hand hovered in the air, seesawing back and forth. "We discussed it, yes. We agreed it was a good idea. But it wasn't like a committee hearing or anything where we all went on and on about pros and cons and for and against and nailed out all the specific details."

"I am now officially very old." Garrison said, mostly to himself as he stowed the last of his gear. "So you want to do a project that incorporates all the different factors that would come into play if a zombie apocalypse happened, eh? Survival, tactics, adaptation, defense, new social dynamics, the question of ethics in a true anarchy and the whole enchilada? Of which there would be few remaining. Enchiladas, I mean."

"Eee! You said 'eh'!" She squealed in delight and clapped her hands at the Canadian's obvious display of Canadian-ness. But there were more serious matters to attend to. So with a cough to clear her throat and a deep breathe, Maddie regained her composure. "But yes. That's exactly correct. You don't have to agree right now, it's a very intense and ambitious endeavor. Not everyone is up for the task.

"Now I really want enchiladas."

"That's a pretty big project in mind. You sure that all the kids will be committed to seeing it through?" It was an intriguing idea, even cutting through Kane's gloom for a moment. He could think of a number of ways that it could be used to incorporate current classes and training sessions in the DR.

"Ummm. It's zombies." He really was super old. "That question is superfluous."

"I do not think this word means what you think it means." He said. "I'll talk to the Professor and some of the staff. It's a big project you're suggesting, but if its what you guys want, I'm pretty sure we can figure something out. I should warn you, we won't pull any punches with the zombies if we do this."

Inside, Maddie was punching the air and dancing in victory. Outside, she burst into a wide smile as she jumped up from the bench, extending her hand toward the law-man. "Aw hell no. Like the zombies would give us any breaks either." The statement was punctuated with a nod; the conversation was over, for now, and she had won.

"Well, obviously I need to see if we have a flesh eating profile built into the Danger Room's combat library. Probably." He shook her hand. "Go, celebrate while I talk to the Professor about the educational advantages offered by things that eat your brains."

There was a definite skip in her step as she hurried away to spread the good news. But as she reached the door, the redhead remembered one further piece of business to attend to. "By the way, Mr. Kane," she called out. "Superfluous means unnecessary or needless. We all understand the importance of learning how to defeat zombies, just in case. So it goes without saying that we're all committed.

"I'm really not as dumb as I look."