by Jamie Davis
“I don’t think it will. I usually only get one premonition for each death,” Wendy said. “I don’t think I’ll react to the artifact or whatever it is again. I’ll call if I feel it coming back, though, you can be sure of that. I never want to be like that again, believe me.”
Dean nodded, and he and Barry packed up their gear, heading out to their ambulance to reload the bags in the unit. Once they were finished, Dean climbed back in the passenger seat and paused a moment, looking around at the townhouse neighborhood. He felt like he was missing something, something important. He shrugged and shook his head when he couldn’t figure it out. Pulling the door closed, he got on the radio and put the ambulance back in service as Barry drove away from the small residential community on the outskirts of town.
* * *
———
* * *
Artur watched the ambulance drive away, seeing Dean as he got back inside before it left. He wondered what the paramedic was doing here, so close to his hideaway in the home of one of his victims. He and Felicity were leaving, though so maybe it was nothing, just a coincidence. The ancient vampire shrugged and let the curtain fall back into place, blocking the painful sunlight from coming in, even on this shady side of the street. He went back to the woman restrained and gagged on the bed behind him to continue feeding.
Chapter 11
Dean and Barry's shift ended much busier than it started. They ran the ambulance in one continuous loop it seemed, going from the hospital to the next call and back to Elk City Medical Center again. Dean supposed he shouldn’t complain. He remembered a time not too long before when their patients were afraid to call for help, and he had to go out and find them to get work to do on his shifts.
When they finally made it back to the station, they found only Brook waiting for them. Tammy’s 12-year-old daughter had collided with another player in an afternoon soccer game and broken her wrist. Tammy was going to be late coming in to work. Dean offered to stay late so Barry could head home. He was taking his wife on a date night, and Dean didn’t want his partner to miss that important evening out. Even though he was tired, it would be fun to run some calls with Brook for a change of pace while they waited for Tammy to come in. She was planning on coming after she and her husband got back with their daughter from the visit to the urgent care center.
The call volume let up a little and allowed him to catch his breath, at least. For that, Dean was thankful. He and Barry hadn’t even had a chance to stop for lunch while on their runs that afternoon and evening, so he was glad he was able to take time and enjoy the excellent meal Freddy had prepared for them: sirloin steaks with a demi-glace sauce and a side of a roasted veggie and orzo salad. Dean dug in, letting his hunger take over for the first few bites as he wolfed down the food without really tasting it. After the initial two or three bites, he slowed down, noticing Freddy’s disapproving stare. He took the time to savor the next bites and was glad he did. The zombie-chef was a true genius with food.
“My compliments to the chef,” Dean called out between bites. “This is truly awesome, Freddy.”
“Agreed,” Brook said through a mouthful of steak.
Freddy smiled and nodded his thanks before returning to the kitchenette area to clean up and put the leftovers in containers for them to take home after work. Dean watched the shambling shadow of a man and thought about the other recently dead people who’d been added to the local zombie community after they’d been raised from their rest by whatever unknown force or artifact Artur was using to create his zombie hordes. He knew they’d been lucky so far. The health department had been able to isolate the outbreaks and then transition the recently dead to what would pass as a normal life after their turning.
He was thinking about this when his phone chirped and he checked to see a message from Jaz. Tapping the screen, Dean opened the text message.
I have a lead on what might be causing the outbreaks. It’s happened before, in the past. It’s in our family archives. Can you come over after work?
Dean tapped a quick reply telling her he was working late. She replied immediately.
I’ll be up late. I think this is big. Come by when you’re done.
Dean told her he’d let her know when he was on his way. Dean ran out to his truck and brought in a change of clothes before returning to his meal. Once Tammy got there, he’d take a shower at the station. He hated showing up in his uniform after a hard day’s work. It would be better to look like a normal guy for a change.
He tapped out a quick response to Jaz and was returning to his excellent dinner when the radio tones sounded overhead announcing the next ambulance call. Such was the life of the paramedic. He left the half-eaten plate of food sitting on the table and jumped up to grab his coat before heading into the ambulance bay, following after Brook.
Four hours later, well after ten o’clock at night, Dean backed the unit into the station’s ambulance bay and shut the overhead garage doors with the remote on the visor. The initial call had turned into three back to back patient transports and, even though Tammy had shown up at nine o’clock, it had taken an extra hour to finish up and get a break in the action long enough to swing back to Station U to drop him off.
He was exhausted. Climbing down from the ambulance’s driver’s side, he plugged in the shoreline power cord and shuffled into the squad room. Brook was already at the computer completing her last report. Tammy came over as he walked into the station’s living area.
“Thanks for covering for me, Dean.”
“No worries,” he replied. “How’s your daughter?”
“In a little pain. It’s a clean fracture and not near the growth plate so it should heal in four to six weeks. We’ve got to meet with an orthopedic surgeon just to be sure, but the ER doc said it should be fine.”
“I’m glad she’s going to be okay.” Dean hooked a thumb over his shoulder to the ambulance bay. “I need to hit the shower, but when I’m done, I’ll go and restock for you. We didn’t use much in the way of supplies, but I’ll make sure the unit is ready to go for the next call.”
Tammy waved her hand in the air. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it. You go home. You look beat.”
Dean nodded. “Thanks. I’ll do that. I have to try and catch up with Jaz if it’s not too late.”
“Ooh, a late night date? How’s that going?”
Dean scowled at the reference to a date.
“Pretty well. We’re taking things slow, but I like her a lot. I think the feeling is mutual. I mean, she keeps inviting me back, right?”
“It sounds promising,” Tammy said, shooting him a big grin. “Of course, I’m not one to give away a girl’s master plan. Where would be the fun in that?”
Dean laughed and went to get his clothes and grab a quick shower. While in the bunkroom getting dressed, he heard the tones drop over the speakers and knew Tammy and Brook were headed out again. When he came out wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt, Freddy was waiting for him with two plastic food containers.
“What’s this?” Dean asked.
“It’s not nice to show up at a lady’s home at this hour without something to show for it. Take a nice dinner. This will all heat up well in her microwave. I jotted down instructions on the sticky notes on the lids.”
Dean looked down as he took the containers from Freddy and noticed the scrawled instructions. He gave the chef a broad grin.
“This will hit the spot, Freddy. Thanks.”
Freddy shrugged and returned the grin with a toothless smile of his own before going back to work puttering around the kitchen and dining area. Dean grabbed his coat and went out to head over to Jaz’s place.
Twenty minutes later he was in her apartment zapping the meal in the microwave while Jaz gathered the plates and poured both of them a both a glass of wine.
“I can’t tell you how excited I was when you texted that Freddy had sent dinner with you. I was so wrapped up in my research; I forgot to get anything to eat tonight.”
>
“Sometimes, I think Freddy has a sixth sense when it comes to knowing when folks are hungry,” Dean said with a chuckle. “It’s like it’s his super-power.”
“It’s a good one to have,” Jaz laughed. She handed him his wine and held out hers in a toast. “To friends with superpowers.”
“Agreed.” Dean tapped the lip of his glass to hers and then took a sip. “How’s the work coming along? Find anything new?”
“I think I’ve found a new track to run down regarding a few similar outbreaks in the past. I need a break, though. I’ve been at this since this morning.”
The microwave beeped, and Dean took the container of food out and set it on the counter, taking the lid off as steam rose from the contents.
“What did he send us?” Jaz asked.
“Pasta Carbonara.”
“Oooh, my mouth is watering already. Let’s go sit and eat.”
The two of them dished up bowls of the pasta dish containing fettuccini, egg, bacon, cheese, and fresh cracked black peppercorns. They sat in silence for the first few bites, savoring the gourmet meal Freddy had sent for them. Jaz spoke up first.
“My compliments to the chef,” she said as she took a sip of her wine. “When do you work next? You have to tell him how much we enjoyed it.”
“Thankfully, I’m off for a few days. That’s something for which I’m very glad, believe me. It’s been a long week of shifts. I’ll make sure to say something when I go back, though. He’s outdone himself yet again.”
Jaz smiled and started to say something but stopped and took another bite of food instead. Dean cocked his head to one side waiting for her to say what was on her mind and finally asked her when he could wait no longer.
“You looked like you were about to say something that amused you. What was it?”
“It’s silly,” Jaz said. Her face colored a little as she smiled.
“You’re blushing,” Dean laughed. “Now you have to tell me.”
She paused and smiled some more before she spoke.
“I was just thinking about how Freddy always seems to pull out all the stops when he makes food for you and I. It’s almost as if he’s taken it upon himself to make us nice romantic dinners every chance he gets. Do you think he’s trying to set us up?”
“Of course he is,” Dean blurted out with a laugh. “Honestly, Jaz, I think everyone wants us to get over ourselves and get together. Brook and Tammy are practically dying waiting for news that we are finally and officially a couple.”
“It’s good you have friends pulling for you like that, Dean. It must be nice.”
“They’re your friends, too, now. Look at it from their perspective. They’ve met Joanna. They know we’ll end up together eventually. They just want us to get past the awkward phase and get on with things.”
Jaz leaned back in her chair and looked him.
“What do you want?”
Dean was taken aback by her directness although he shouldn’t have been. Jaswinder Errington was a very direct sort of person. He thought for a moment before answering.
“I want us to take the time we need to do this right, Jaz. I don’t want to make any mistakes and take the risk of losing you and what we could have together someday down the road. If that means we need to go slow and take it one step at a time, I’m okay with that.”
“Me, too,” she replied.
“‘Me, too,’ what?” Dean asked, hoping she’d clarify some more.
“Me, too, as in I don’t want to risk losing you and our future together either. I think I see us together for a long time, Dean Flynn.”
Dean felt warm all over again, and now he feared he was the one blushing. Their eyes met, and then both of them were laughing together and the tension broke. It was good for them to get this out in the open. He felt like they’d been tiptoeing around the subject practically ever since Jo blurted out she was their daughter.
Jaz, still chuckling a little, stood up and reached out to take Dean’s bowl along with her own.
“Let’s clean up these dishes and then I’ll show you what I’ve found.”
Dean stood and grabbed the wine glasses and followed her to the kitchen. She rinsed out the bowls and set them in the sink while he poured them more wine. He handed hers to her as she passed by, heading for the couch where her laptop sat open, surrounded by stacks of papers and files.
“You have been busy,” Dean noticed. “I’ve never seen you with so much clutter around before. You’re always so neat and organized.”
Jaz moved a stack of files so that there was room for Dean next to her on the sofa.
“I’ve been digging into the remaining archive files that survived the fire. Luckily most of the oldest hunter journals from my family were already scanned into a database in the cloud. That’s what I’ve been referencing for the most part. These other files are from the police station and pertain to their previous investigations when we thought Artur was involved.”
“So, where did you dig up the new information?”
“It’s not new. It’s very old.” She opened her laptop and typed a query into a search bar and opened a file from the selection that popped up.
“This is a reference from one of my ancestors about an outbreak of the recently dead in a village in what is now Ukraine. It’s from the eleventh century, but it describes what we see here almost perfectly.”
Dean leaned in to look at the scanned image of a hand-written page. He couldn’t make out any of it. Part of it was his difficulty reading the old world calligraphy of the person writing the journal. The other part was it was in a language he didn’t recognize. Jaz laughed when she saw his expression.
“Don’t let your brain explode trying to read it,” she told him. “It’s a form of Old High German. We Erringtons all learned to read and speak it from the earliest age. It’s one way we keep our secrets to ourselves in this modern age. The language is a sort of pigeon version of the language spoken only in a small region near the Black Forest a long time ago. I don’t think there are more than a handful of scholars in the world today who’d even recognize it, let alone are able to decipher it.”
“Will you teach it to Jo someday?” Dean wondered aloud.
“Of course,” Jaz replied. “She has to be able to carry on the legacy of the clan.”
“So what does this ancestor of yours have to say that relates back to what’s going on in Elk City now?”
Jaz turned back to the document on the screen and scrolled down a few pages. “This section here describes some sort of relic used by a local witch to get revenge on the villagers who cast her out. She caused those who were recently dead to rise from their graves and attack their former neighbors. The mayor of the village called for a hunter clan and my ancestor responded to their call for assistance. Here’s the part I think is pertinent. I translated it for you.”
She handed him a sheet of paper from a pile on the coffee table. He looked at the paragraph written on it.
“I tracked the witch to a cottage in the woods where I observed her from a distance. She pulled a small object from her pocket and began to mutter incantations over it. Using my amulet, I could see the glow of magic emanating from what she held. It was small and withered but obviously a finger. Who it belonged to and how it became ensorcelled to control the undead before this woman obtained it, I do not know. I knew only that she must be stopped. I leveled my crossbow and shot the crone as she cast her spell. There was a flash of light that overcame me for a time. When I could see again, the witch was dead on the ground with my shaft in her breast. I could find no trace of the relic she used in her spells against the village…”
Dean looked up at Jaz after reading the passage twice.
“A finger?”
“That’s what it said. I read on in his journals, but there is no account of him finding it or destroying it, which he surely would have done.”
“He mentioned it was a relic. Could it be some sort of holy relic from the church? I know some old c
hurches and cathedrals in the old world purport to have the bones of saints which contain miraculous powers.”
“That’s what I as thinking,” Jaz responded. She sounded excited. “I believe this is just that sort of relic. Which led me to another archival source.”
She went back to her computer and pulled up another series of files.
“This is a database of known magical relics and their powers either verified or suspected. I did a search for fingers and hands to see what popped up. That’s when I found this.”
She pointed to the screen, and a scanned parchment drawing of what was unmistakably a finger removed just below the second knuckle.
“This is the finger of Saint Azriel,” Jaz announced.
“I’ve never heard of him.”
“Well, he’s not a human saint. He’s almost certainly one of the Eldara. Legend has it he was slain by a horde of demons while in command of a quest of holy knights in the tenth century. His last act before he died was to animate the fallen corpses of his knights to help him hold back the onslaught. During the fight, his finger was bitten off by a demon and fell to the ground where it was recovered by his surviving followers. We know Eldara bodies return to the ether or heaven or whatever when their mortal bodies are killed here on earth. For whatever reason, this part of him didn’t go with the rest of the body.”
Dean looked at the story on the screen that accompanied the parchment drawing. He was still unsure where she was going with this. How was a finger responsible for what was happening here and now? He asked as much.
“After this account of Azriel’s fall, there are numerous accounts of others using the finger for the next hundred years or so to control all sorts of undead creatures. Apparently, the finger still contained the trapped Eldara magic Azriel used to raise and command his dead companions. It can be used to not only raise the dead but also to control any undead Unusual.”