Dead Jack and the Soul Catcher: (Volume 2)

by James Aquilone

  Garry screamed, “Weres! Weres!”

  Did the fairies set us up? What the fook was going on?

  A commotion spread over the camp, fairies yelling and running. The werewolf’s powerful hands tightened around my throat. I gagged.

  Zara’s voice rang out over the din. “Can someone, please, remove that zombie from the werewolf?” She sounded much calmer than I expected.

  A tiny fairy fluttered toward us with a stick in his hands. When he got close, he poked the stick behind me. It let off a zap and the werewolf howled. The creature released his grip on me, and I ran farther into the tent. I looked back. For some reason, two cages flanked the entrance of the tent, each containing a ferocious werewolf, their eyes as bright as torches.

  Zara stood before me in gleaming silver armor, her black hair pulled back in a tight bun.

  “Why the fook do you have caged weres at the entrance to your command tent?” I asked.

  “I put them there to remind my troops what we’re up against.”

  “Isn’t that a bit dangerous?”

  “It helps to weed out the idiots.”

  Zara led us to a large table covered with a huge map of the Red Garden. Figurines that represented the werewolves dotted the south with the fairies’ positions marked in the north. From the looks of it, Oren Nero was right. Zara was winning the war.

  Her hammer stood propped up against a filing cabinet, its head stained a dark red, no doubt from bashing in were skulls.

  “A general, huh?” I asked.

  “Still a detective?”

  “Is this a competition?”

  “Certainly not. It wouldn’t seem fair. I have an army… and you have the skeleton of Madame de Pompadour?” She looked skeptically at Garry.

  “Are you a general or an insult comic? His name is Garry, and for your information, this fella’s been through a lot.”

  Garry made a sad face.

  “Jack, I have a war to fight. Can you tell me why you’re here?”

  “I thought we were friends.”

  “Can you tell me why you’re here, pal?”

  “That’s better.” I held my arms out to the sides, smiling. “I think we all need to get along. Like a family.”

  “This is weird. You’re acting weird.” Zara raised her eyebrows. “Did you run out of dust? You usually call on friends when you need to get high?”

  “I don’t get high, first of all. I take fairy dust to control my cravings. It’s medicine and in the public’s interest. Is that how you think of me? A no-good dust head?”

  “That’s exactly how I think of you. No offense.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll cut to the chase. We need your help.”

  “I’m busy. I don’t have any interest in being part of your silly case.”

  “What makes you think I’m on a silly case?”

  “You’re always on a silly case.”

  “Is saving the world silly?”

  She sighed. “Oh, that again?”

  “I’m sorry that the world is in danger again, Zara. I don’t want to inconvenience the great fairy general.”

  “As I recall, you didn’t save anyone. You usually have other people do that for you. By the way, how is Oswald?”

  I took the sleeping homunculus out of my satchel and held him up. “Alas, poor Oswald. I knew him well.”

  Zara grimaced. “That’s kind of morbid, you know? Carrying him around like some rag doll.”

  “If you help us, we can save Oswald.”

  “I really don’t have time for this, Jack. We have a large werewolf battalion trapped at the southern edge of the Bone Yard.”

  “If it wasn’t for Oswald, there wouldn’t be any Fairy Land, there wouldn’t be any Pandemonium. I think you owe him a minute of your time.”

  “Okay, Jack. How are you going to save Oswald?”

  “Show her the book, Garry.”

  Garry removed the journal from his pocket and handed it to Zara.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “An alchemist’s journal. He found Ratzinger’s souls.”

  “Our souls,” Garry said.

  “Garry thinks the alchemist can also revive Oswald. It’s the only chance we have. I’ve tried everything else.”

  “I still don’t see why you need me,” Zara said.

  “Can you read the writing in the book?” I asked.

  Zara gave it a look, flipped a few pages, and then closed it and handed it back to Garry. “I’ve never seen that language before.”

  “Precisely. The only guy who can read this book and help us find the alchemist is locked up on Purgatory Island. I need you to help us break him out. You won’t be gone long.”

  She laughed. “Break out a criminal so he can read a book that may or may not lead you to an alchemist who may or may not be able to revive Oswald, who may or may not already be dead? Oswald was right about you and your plans. They’re bad.”

  “Oswald liked you,” I said.

  “I feel terrible about Oswald. I really do. But you were the one who made him cover the Jupiter Stone. It was your plan.”

  “You won’t help us?”

  She shook her head. “No, Jack.”

  Zara was a stubborn witch. She couldn’t be persuaded by sentiment. “Thank you for your time, general.” I bowed graciously.

  “You’re just going to give up, Jack?” Garry asked. “What about our souls?”

  “We’ll just have to make due without them, Garry. We’ll be fine. We’re just a couple of stupid zombies, after all.”

  “Save me the sob story, Jack,” Zara said.

  “We did come all this way. Can we at least get some refreshments before we head back to save the world?”

  “Then you’ll leave?”

  “Scouts honor.”

  “Devil Boy, I take it, and for the skeleton?”

  “Milk, of course.”

  “Of course.” Zara walked out.

  I stepped over to her hammer.

  “Jack, what are you doing?”

  “Shut the fook up, Garry.” I hefted the hammer. Boy, was it heavy. It took some doing, but I was able to stuff it inside my magic pocket. “Now, very calmly, let’s walk out of here.”

  CHAPTER 6: Hammer Time

  We caught a ride in the back of a wagon drawn by an old unicorn with a concave back. A bunch of fairies on shore leave headed back to the docks.

  “Why did you steal the general’s hammer?” Garry asked. “She doesn’t look like the type of person who’ll be happy when she finds out.”

  “No. She won’t be. She’s going to be furious. That’s why we’re going to say you stole it.”

  “Me? Are you joking?”

  “Trust me. We’ll tell her all about how your brain doesn’t work so good. You picked it up thinking it was your walking cane or something. If that doesn’t work, maybe she’ll take it easy on you because of your skeleton pattern baldness.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  “Get used to it. It’s my style.”

  The unicorn followed a winding road through the grassland. It was quite beautiful in this part of the city. Butterflies and pixies flittered through the air, which smelled of fresh rain and strawberries. If not for the war, I could see myself retiring out here.

  We boarded the turtle ferry just before the crew closed the gate. We sat in the back, and I watched the docks.

  “I still don’t see why you stole that hammer?” Garry said. “Can it help us break out Wally?”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.”

  The ferry horn blew. Right as the turtle’s flippers began to move, shouting and banging erupted. Garry looked at me with an “oh fook” expression.

  When that half-pixie, half-witch appeared on the docks, she was all witch. She bounded onto the ferry―hopping onto the turtle’s tail in a giant leap.

  Garry stood. I tugged on his arm. “Sit down. Let me handle this.”

  Zara raced up the tail, leaped onto the carapace, and r
ushed into the seating area. “You stole something from me.” Her eyes hurled daggers.

  “Not me,” I said with my most innocent look. “Garry, do you have something to confess?”

  “What’s that, Jack?” he asked, his eyes darting back and forth.

  “Garry’s brain doesn’t work so good on account of his missing soul,” I said. “I have to apologize for him.”

  “Cut the crap,” said Zara. “I know you took it, Jack.”

  “Do I look like a thief to you?”

  “You look like someone who’s about to have his head shoved up his arse.”

  “You’re already on the boat, and it’s already moving. We’ll be back in no time.”

  “I already told you I’m not going on this crazy mission of yours.”

  “We need to find these souls before the Nazis get their hands on them. They’re looking to assemble an army of the dead, which they’re going to use to take over Pandemonium. It’s a classic Nazi move. Me and Garry would rather not be a part of that psycho show.”

  She grabbed my shoulders. “I have my own worries with the weres in the Red Garden.”

  “Need I remind you that you’d still be locked up in the Duke’s prison if Oswald hadn’t broken you out.”

  “The Duke?” Garry said.

  “Yeah, she used to date that nut. Can you believe it?”

  Zara lifted me off the ground. “Remember when I kicked him over a mountain, Jack? Do you really want me to kill you too?” She shook me like a maraca.

  “The Duke’s not dead,” Garry said.

  She stopped shaking me, but still held my shoulders.

  “Excuse me?” Zara squeezed me, hard. “How would you know that?”

  Her fingers dug into my skin like needlepoints.

  “The Nazis revived him,” Garry said.

  “Did you know about this?” Zara shifted her glare back to me.

  “The first I’m hearing of it. Why didn’t you say this before, Garry? By the way, you’re hurting me, Zara.”

  She squeezed harder.

  “I didn’t think it was relevant,” Garry said. “The Nazis do a lot of crazy things. They’re Nazis!”

  “Why would they resurrect the Duke?” Zara asked.

  Garry scratched at his head, careful not to mess the dead thing on top of it. “I don’t know. Maybe they like resurrecting people.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Where is he?”

  “He’s at their compound on Witch End,” said Garry.

  Zara released me. My shoulders felt like they had been in a vice.

  She sat, breathing heavy and staring straight ahead. I gave her some room.

  “Give me the hammer,” she said.

  Zara looked incredulous as I pulled the hammer from my inside pocket.

  “It’s a magic pocket,” I said.

  “I figured. A pocket with a pocket universe. It’s not as special as you think.”

  She removed the armor on her right arm, touched the weapon to her bicep, and the hammer changed back into a tattoo. Tattoos of all sorts of useful things covered Zara’s arms. She could conjure any of them by uttering a few words and touching the ink. The hammer was her favorite.

  “I’ll go along with you two corpses, but then you’re taking me to this Nazi compound so I can kill that piece of scum.”

  “Deal,” I said. “I knew you would come around.”

  The witch clocked me in the jaw.

  I fell straight on my arse.

  No point in getting into a fight with Zara, so I let it slide.

  “I guess I deserved that,” I said, “but I’m not sure for what.”

  Zara shrugged. “Let’s not talk for awhile. Okay?” I sat next to her. Garry took a seat across from us.

  I ran a hand over Zara’s armor. “It’s so shiny.” She slapped my hand. “I have so many questions.”

  “I’ve always wanted to ask you if you have bowel movements, but sometimes it’s better to leave your curiosity to yourself. Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”

  “You tell me a lot of things.”

  “You’re an idiot, Jack.”

  “I find it to be my strength. Did you work your way up in the army, or did they just bestow a generalship on you once you whipped out your hammer? I never took you for the patriotic type.”

  “You know nothing about me.”

  “Dammit, Zara, won’t you open up? Let me in. I want to know all about you. I thought you were going back to the Red Garden to reunite with your mother.” I lit a Lucky Dragon.

  “You want to know the truth?” she asked.

  “Lay it on me.”

  “Give me a hellfire stick.”

  I pulled out another Lucky Dragon. She popped it in her mouth and I lit it.

  She blew smoke in my face. “I joined the fairy army after I found out my mother was sleeping with the enemy and spilling secrets. She had disgraced my name. It was the least I could do. When I proved myself adept at killing weres, they promoted me.”

  “They trusted you even though your mother is a traitor?”

  “They did after I killed her.”

  I blinked in shock. “You killed your own mother?”

  “And her werewolf lover.”

  “Holy heck.”

  “I’m over it now. It’s okay.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Two months ago.”

  I looked at Garry and grimaced. He shrugged.

  “And when I kill the Duke―again―I can put my family issues behind me.”

  “The Duke killed her father,” I said to Garry.

  “He killed the wrong parent,” Zara said. “This time, I’m going to make sure the Duke is dead.”

  “You don’t have much luck with parents, do you? Your mother was a traitor and your father helped the Duke build the Pandemonium Device.”

  Zara walloped me again―with a haymaker to the jaw that flung me straight off the bench.

  We sat in silence for the rest of the trip.

  CHAPTER 7: Hit the Fookin Devil Road, Jack

  My jaw still throbbed when we piled into the Studebaker, which I had parked by the dock in southern ShadowShade.

  The pixie/witch made Garry ride in the back. He didn’t argue. I doubted he could have taken a sock on the jaw. Most likely, he’d crumple into a pile of bones. I didn’t argue either. I left Oswald in his satchel.

  “Still not talking, Zara?” I started the Studebaker.

  She didn’t answer, the wheels in her devious mind turning. I could practically hear them churning. She was no doubt working out a plot to re-kill the Duke.

  Zara and the Duke went way back. They dated for a time, until he murdered her father, a master sorcerer named Juan Carlos Villalobos del Toro. A good enough reason to end a relationship, in my opinion. Juan Carlos had recently finished making the Pandemonium Device when he got his pink slip in the form of a tombstone. I didn’t like the idea of Ol Eddie McCrawley―his real name―being resurrected. He wasn’t too pleasant before. The undead Duke wouldn’t be an upgrade.

  I took the Fookin Devil Road, also known as the FDR Drive, heading north. If I was lucky, traffic wouldn’t be insane. If I was doubly lucky, the devil’s minions wouldn’t be out driving.

  The Studebaker glided onto the entrance ramp. I wasn’t lucky on the first count. Demon bikers, troll truckers, cryptid cabbies, psycho pedicabs―every alliterative automobiler you could imagine―shot down the narrow three-lane highway at breakneck speed.

  I started to step on the gas, but jammed on the brake. “Missed it.”

  “Just merge, you sissy,” Zara said. “You drive like a blind crone.”

  “Do you want to die before we even get to the other end of ShadowShade?” I stepped on the gas, but quickly hit the brake again. “Missed it.”

  Zara let out a sigh and stomped on my right foot. The Studebaker shot forward, heading straight for a semi with LUCIFER CORP emblazoned on its side. The driver blew his horn, an ear-shattering howl worthy of a banshee
. I shut my eyes and pressed the gas pedal to the floor. We flew onto the FDR inches in front of the truck. The trucker gave me three more blasts of his horn and rode my arse.

  “You’re welcome,” Zara said. “How about a little music? They’re supposed to be playing a marathon of Kill Unicorn Kill tonight on K-HEL.”

  “Did I ever tell you the lead singer, Unicorn de Havilland, once hired me for a case?”

  “That’s gives you one point, brain licker. They’re my all-time favorite band. It’s a shame they broke up. Maybe you can introduce me to her when this is all over.”

  “She’s not talking to me.”

  “When has that stopped you before?”

  Zara turned on the radio with a blast of static. As she flipped through the channels, the static morphed into the chatter that rattled around in my head before the shadow men attacked us.

  “Do you hear that?” I asked.

  “What?” Zara had stopped on a station, but a thousand voices spoke in my head.

  “Those voices?”

  “You mean the Wolfman? Pandemonium’s number-one DJ?”

  The voices were barely whispers. I strained to make out the words. After a few seconds, it clicked―The voices repeated my name over and over.

  jackjackjackjackjackjack

  I turned off the radio.

  “It stays on,” Zara said, and reached for the button.

  I swatted her hand away. “No! Leave it off!”

  She must have heard the fear in my voice, because she left the dial alone. “Party pooper.” She stared out the window.

  “I need silence to think,” I said, lamely trying to save some face.

  High-rises flanked the road. This area had some of the best real estate in Pandemonium. Inside those luxury building lived the elite, the power brokers of the Five Cities, the bankers and politicians and moguls who sent you to Purgatory Island. I didn’t know who had arranged for Wally to get pinched. Like me, the guy pissed off plenty of people, one of the reasons I liked him. Another reason: he was usually desperate enough to do whatever I needed.

  Getting into prison, by definition, isn’t difficult. I’ve spent some time on Purgatory Island myself. Each time on trumped-up charges―except that one time I stole Lucifer’s goats. I didn’t know he owned the goats when I stole them, and I might have been high on dust at the time, but I still got a thirty-day sentence. Though it was one of the worst months of my life, I did learn how to pick locks from a blind leprechaun.