He shook his head. “That was a really weird thing to say, yet it makes me smile.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine. “I’m buying dinner. I’m also paying for a tour. I might even pay for a few rounds of drinks ... or something at one of those little kiosks I keep seeing on the corners. I haven’t decided yet. You’re going to allow me without complaint.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
“It’s what I need tonight.”
He was earnest, which meant I couldn’t argue with him ... at least about this. “Fine. You can buy dinner and the tour.”
“And whatever else I want.”
“And whatever else you want ... within reason.”
“I’m forgetting you added that last part.”
“I’m not.”
I DECIDED TO TRY CRAWFISH for dinner. I had no idea what made me land on that decision — perhaps it was all the movie scenes I’d marveled at over the years — but when the big tray of crawdads slid onto the table I was officially in awe.
“Oh, wow!”
Jack’s smirk was obvious when he reached for the pile of napkins the waitress left behind. “These shouldn’t be unbearably spicy.”
“No. Definitely not.” I frowned at one of the dead crustaceans on the platter. “It’s staring at me.”
He chuckled. “He’s dead. He won’t feel a thing. I promise.” Jack deftly grabbed one of the creatures, pinched near its neck, and ripped the body from the head before popping the meat into his mouth. “They’re good.”
I was a little grossed out. “Why can’t they take the heads off for us? Then it would be just like eating shrimp.”
“Actually, that’s only an American thing.”
“What’s only an American thing?” I delicately picked up one of the crawfish and woefully stared at it. “I’m sorry, little bug.”
Jack made an odd sound in his throat and snagged the crawfish from my hand. He moved it to his plate and used his knife to cut off the head and remove the shell before spearing the meat with his fork and shoving it in my face. “Eat.”
I stared at it, uncertain. “Um ... .”
“Eat,” he repeated.
I was the one who’d insisted on crawfish, so I had no choice. I tentatively bit into the meat and started chewing. Surprisingly, it was good. That didn’t mean I wanted to behead twenty of the little buggers myself. “I don’t suppose you would consider doing that for all of them?”
He didn’t look happy at the prospect but he didn’t protest. Instead, he simply grabbed three of them and began dissecting. “If you ever go to Europe — which I recommend — they have prawns. It’s basically the same as shrimp over here, only bigger. They’re all served with their eyes attached.”
That sounded disgusting. “Why?”
He shrugged. “That’s simply the way it’s done.”
“I’ve never been out of the country,” I admitted, grinning when Jack slid the headless crawfish in my direction. “Thank you.”
“Have some potatoes and corn, too.” He pointed toward the vegetables included with the seafood boil. “If you want, I can ask them to add headless shrimp and scallops to the mix if you don’t like the crawfish.”
“I like the crawfish,” I said hurriedly. “I just don’t like decapitating them.”
“Every meal is an adventure with you,” he teased, sipping his sweet tea. It was apparently the only type of iced tea at this establishment. I was a menace when hopped up on sugar, so I figured going with water was a safer bet.
“I never got to try exotic things when I was growing up,” I agreed. “This is definitely an adventure.”
“I don’t consider mudbugs exotic.”
“I would prefer you not refer to them as bugs. It grosses me out.”
“Fair enough.” He leaned back in his chair and regarded me. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”
The question caught me off guard. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.”
“I don’t believe that. You grew up in a small town. You must’ve wanted to visit someplace.”
“Hogwarts. I fancied myself Harry Potter and thought there was a bigger and better world out there for me. I mean … I knew I was adopted. Once I lost my parents, I started thinking about my birth parents and wondered if they were out there looking for me. I was sure of that.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry no one ever came for you.”
I internally cursed myself. This wasn’t the conversation we should be having on a date. He was well aware that my birth parents disappeared when I was a child, that I essentially had no memory of them, and grew up with wonderful adoptive parents who treated me as if I was their own child. As I grew older, I began to wonder if I was initially abandoned because of the magic.
“It doesn’t matter.” I meant it. “I’m exactly where I want to be. I know you’re upset about the money and everything, but this is the most I’ve ever made.”
“I’m talking to Myron about your salary.” He was firm. “If you won’t let me help you, then I’m going to make sure that you can help yourself. Myron thinks he can get away with paying you minimum wage because you’re fresh out of school. That’s not fair.”
“It’s pretty much what I expected.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s fair.” He beheaded three more crawfish and tipped the remains onto my plate. “Eat. You need your strength.”
“Okay.” I was happy to change the subject. “Tell me about your meeting with your buddy Leon. Did he give you any good information?”
“No, but he’s going to start digging. He’s heard the stories about the zombies and thought they were exaggerated. Like me, he believes there’s a reasonable explanation for what’s going on. Zombies aren’t a reasonable explanation, in case you’re wondering.”
I snickered at his serious expression and reached for an ear of corn. “Well, either way, I’m glad we have more help. Our meeting with the voodoo queen wasn’t quite as fruitful.”
“I was going to ask about that. What did she say?”
“Just that she saw one of the zombies herself and the city is going to fall. You know, the normal doom and gloom stuff.”
“Yeah, but ... do you believe her?”
I thought about the way Madame Brenna looked at me. She seemed to recognize there was something different about me and wasn’t afraid to comment on it. Of course, it all could’ve been an act. I simply didn’t have enough information to make a judgment.
“I don’t know,” I said finally. That was the truth. “She was weird. She thought we were there to accuse her of sleeping with someone’s husband until Millie explained who we were.”
“That’s interesting, although I can’t help but wonder if Myron had something going with her. She probably jumped to that conclusion for a reason.”
“Yeah.”
He tapped the side of my plate. “If you eat three more bugs and some potatoes I’ll buy you a huge dessert. Whatever you want.”
I brightened considerably. “That means I’ll be on a sugar high for the tour. You might not like that.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“What tour are we going on?”
“Murder and voodoo. That’s what the brochure said anyway. I thought it would be right up your alley.”
He wasn’t wrong. It sounded like an awesome way to spend the evening.
“I DON’T UNDERSTAND,” I SAID two hours later as Jack drank a rum and coke from a plastic cup and we followed our tour group along the sidewalk. “How can you have that on the street?”
He chuckled at my puritan response. “It’s New Orleans. There are different rules for living in this city.”
“It’s kind of freaky.”
“Not really.”
“No, it’s definitely freaky.”
He tipped the glass in my direction. “Take a drink.”
“I’m good.”
“No, seriously. You need to take a drink and chill out.
You’re a bundle of nerves.”
The fact that he’d noticed set my teeth on edge. I was trying to play it cool, but I’d felt ... something ... following us since we left the restaurant. We went to a place called the Voodoo Lounge to meet with our tour group, and I swore I felt someone watching me the entire time. Even now, in the middle of the city and surrounded by crowds, I couldn’t get over the fact that it felt as if something was closing in on me. I knew it on an instinctive level ... and yet there was nothing I could do about it.
“Fine.” I took a sip and made a face. “That’s really strong.”
“Why do you think I’ve been nursing it since we left the bar?” He moved the drink to his other hand and slipped his arm around my waist. “Are you having fun, other than the drink?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Even though I’d been uneasy at the idea of being followed, I couldn’t stop smiling. I love history.
“Where do you think we’re going next?”
I already knew the answer. “LaLaurie Mansion.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a house that was owned by a serial killer.”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Do you want the short or long version?”
“Short ... but I want you to know that it’s a little weird that you know both versions.”
I chuckled. “Madame LaLaurie was married three times. Her third husband was wealthy, and they built that house.” I inclined my chin toward the huge structure rising into the sky in front of us. “They had attached slave quarters, and there are stories about how she treated her slaves.”
“Meaning she did horrible things to them.” Jack wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure I want to hear this.”
“There are mixed stories,” I offered. “In some, she kept her cook chained to the stove and whipped her daughters if they tried to feed the slaves. In others, she actually freed a few slaves. Another story says that she experimented on slaves in the uppermost room of her house.”
“Which story do you believe?”
That was a good question. “I’m guessing there has to be some truth in the torture stories. They had to originate from something.”
“Well, I don’t want to go inside and see the torture room.” He was adamant. “We can wait on the street.”
“It’s a private residence now anyway. We can’t go inside. In fact ... .” I felt it again. Someone was watching me. When I turned, I found a man standing in the middle of the road. I didn’t recognize him. And yet, despite that, I couldn’t help thinking he was there for me.
He appeared to be older, although guessing an age was difficult, and wore ragged clothing. He almost looked homeless. I knew what it was like to struggle financially, and I wanted to help him. “He shouldn’t be in the middle of the road like that,” I volunteered, taking a step into the street. “In fact ... .” I trailed off, uncertain.
Something was very wrong. Like ... even worse than normal.
“He’s going to get hit,” Jack muttered, shifting away from me and toward the road. “I wonder if he’s drunk. I’m going to ... .” He never finished what he was going to say. At that exact moment, a car barreled around the corner and smacked directly into him, knocking him backward. The driver never slowed, let alone stopped.
“Oh, no!” I covered my eyes to block the horror.
Jack stepped off the curb and into the road, the color draining from his face. “Stay here, Charlie,” he ordered when he found his voice.
I wanted to argue with him but I was too busy fighting the urge to retch. “Jack ... .” He was gone. I felt his absence before I turned. When I reluctantly shifted my eyes to the road, to where the man had fallen, I found Jack on his knees trying to help. I also found traffic continuing to blow past him.
“Why won’t they stop?” I stormed onto the road, my temper getting the better of me. The first car that neared the scene and made as if it was going to keep going around Jack and the fallen man fell victim to a set of unfortunate circumstances. The front tire blew, causing the car to swerve into the curb and roll to a standstill. It just so happened to occur in such a fashion that no vehicles could eke around it.
Jack arched an eyebrow as I rushed to his side. “That was ... weird.”
I caused the blowout, so I couldn’t exactly argue. “It’s karma.” Revulsion ripped through me as I caught my first full glimpse of the man on the ground. He was still, his right arm bent at a ridiculous angle, and his eyes were open and sightless as he stared at the night sky. “Oh, no!”
“Yeah.” Jack reached over and grabbed my hand. “He’s dead. I don’t think he even felt it. It happened too fast.”
That was a nice possibility, but I wasn’t sure I believed it. “We need to call the police. I’ll do it. I ... .” I stilled when reaching into my pocket for my phone, my eyes trained on the dead man.
“What’s wrong?” Jack was sympathetic as he patted my back. “It’s okay. I’ll make the call. You don’t have to be out here.”
That’s not what gave me pause. “Jack ... .” It happened again. One of the man’s legs moved. It was only a few inches, but it was movement all the same.
“What?” He was looking at me and not the body.
Out of instinct, I grabbed the arm hanging at Jack’s side at the same moment the man’s head moved in that direction and he bared his teeth. I had no idea if he was trying to bite Jack — that was my guess, though — but I jerked Jack’s well-muscled arm away before it could happen.
Jack’s eyes went wide when he realized the man was moving. “Is he ... ?”
“Come here.” I refused to let go of Jack’s arm and dragged him further away from the hissing and spitting man. “I’m calling for help. Just ... don’t let him bite you.”
Jack made a face. “He’s not a zombie.”
As if on cue, the man started growling again.
“Are you sure of that?” I challenged.
He let loose a sigh. “Get help out here right now. I don’t even know how to explain this.”
That made two of us.
Eight
It didn’t take long for a team of paramedics to arrive. I decided I was going to warn the emergency responders ... even if it made me look like an idiot.
“He’s foaming at the mouth and trying to bite people,” I offered as they hurried in our direction. “Also ... I’m pretty sure he was dead and came back to life.”
The team consisted of a man and a woman. It was the man, the nametag on his coat read “Randy,” who shot me a withering look. “Oh, geez. Is this another zombie story? I wish this rumor would just die. I can’t tell you how sick I am of hearing it.”
“She’s not making it up,” Jack countered, moving to my side. “The guy was dead. We both saw it.”
“Well, he’s obviously not dead now.” Randy shoved Jack to the side so he could make a path. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”
“Then don’t say we didn’t warn you if something bad happens,” Jack shot back.
“You have my word. If I turn into a zombie, I promise not to blame you.”
Jack’s annoyance was obvious, but he managed to hold it together. “We’ve done our due diligence on this and will have no sympathy if you’re bitten.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Randy knelt next to the frothing man. “Hello, sir. It looks like you’ve had one heckuva night.” He pasted a ridiculous smile on his face. It would’ve been out of place even if we weren’t dealing with a zombie. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”
The injured man’s only response was a series of grunts and growls as he tried to latch onto the hand that moved to his forehead.
“He’s altered,” Randy said to his partner, a woman who looked to be in her thirties. Her nametag read “Jessica,” and she seemed more wary than her partner.
“Oh, you think?” Jessica’s dark eyebrows hopped up her forehead. “He’s trying to eat you.”
“Don’t you star
t,” Randy warned. “I don’t want to hear another word about this zombie nonsense.”
Jessica didn’t continue protesting, but she did shift her eyes to us as she moved to the man’s weak side and began running her hands over his arm “Did you guys see what happened?”
Jack nodded. “Yeah. We were on a tour, just getting to the LaLaurie Mansion. Charlie was explaining about the history of the house when we turned and saw the guy in the street. He was just standing there, not moving.”
Jessica furrowed her brow. “Did he say anything?”
“No.”
“Did he look as if he was in distress? Maybe he was grabbing his left arm or holding his head.”
“No.” Jack drew me closer to him, as if he wanted to make sure we were sharing warmth. “He was just standing there.”
“Was he watching your girlfriend?” Randy inclined his head toward me. “I mean ... she’s a pretty girl. Maybe he was drunk and thought he had a chance or something. He might not have realized she was with you.”
“That’s not how he was acting.” Jack searched for the right words. “I’m not sure how to describe the way it went down. He just stared, but it wasn’t as if he was seeing anything.”
“Kind of like he was a zombie,” I added.
Randy shot me a look. “Don’t go there. You have no idea how many zombie stories I’ve heard the past few days. It’s ridiculous.”
Jack slid me a sidelong look and smiled. “I don’t want to encourage her, but it was a little weird. He was very clearly dead on the pavement after the car hit him.”
“Speaking of that, did you get a plate?” A police officer appeared on the curb and started moving toward us. I hadn’t even seen him arrive. “A few of the witnesses over there described it as a blue car and said it didn’t slow down.”
“It was a blue Ford Focus,” Jack confirmed. “I definitely saw that.”
“What happened to that car?” The officer asked, gesturing toward the vehicle with the blown-out tire.
“I have no idea,” Jack replied. “Traffic wasn’t slowing down when we came out to help, and somehow that car ended up with a flat and blocked traffic. It’s probably not convenient for the drivers, but it was much safer for us.”
The Undead Uproar Page 7