Juan of the Dead

by Jacalyn Boggs

My voice quiet, I looked at Jon hoping he could see the pleading for understanding in my eyes. "I don't know what came over me."

  No quips, no edgy wit, just a simple statement of fact. Would he believe it? More importantly, would he accept it? If I were fully alive, this would be where I held my breath in anticipation and fear. Instead, I bit my lip, a nervous habit I hated almost as much as I hated what I'd just done.

  I hated it, but it felt just as natural as biting my lip.

  "I think I made-" Jon began, but I wouldn't know what he planned to finish that statement with because the man that offered me the heart interrupted and I was just too much of a chicken to ever go back and ask.

  "She only did what was natural for her." The man stepped between Jon and me and stated the thing that I felt deep within me about eating the heart. "It is her nature, which is why these people wanted to bring her harm."

  His words sounded so formal; I didn't need the accent to tell me that he learned English from a book as opposed to actually speaking it with any sort of regularity. I listened as he continued. "But she is different than what they think. They do not know the true meaning of the prophecies. She's to bring in a new age, and she's to change the fear people have of her kind."

  I felt the bristle of anger return, a little more of the usual me. "Excuse me? My kind?" My fists clinched with my words.

  "Those like you. I do not know if there are any now, but there have been ages where your kind have walked this earth. Times where your people terrorized those that lived. Your rising changes that. No more shall people need to fear what they do not understand."

  "So, what, you think people 'like me' are scary? But I'm not? What are you saying about me?" I could be pretty scary when I wanted, just get between me and a purse sale at the Coach outlet.

  "Your people fight with a ruthlessness like no other. The legends speak of massacres at the hands of..."

  Jon cut the man off. "So, the legends that we've heard? The walking dead? True?"

  The man nodded but I didn't give him a chance to continue.

  "You are saying I'm what? The walking dead? But while there's others that are ruthless, I'm not?"

  I've definitely acted anything but ruthless since Jon's abracadaba moment back in the Creepazoid Temple of Gross, but why would I be different? And did this man know what I was? Did I dare ask?

  "Yes. The prophecies speak of you as a great leader and of bringing peace. We do not know why, it does not say. Only that you will prove different and that you will ensure that the massacres of before never happen again."

  "Massacres? But who would be doing this? Wouldn't this be like on the news or whatever? Come on, an army of undead?" This wasn't a zombie movie or anything. "This is real life and that sort of thing doesn't happen in real life."

  Then again, babes like me don't die in earthquakes in Mexico and wake up dead in a temple in real life either. I suppose there was a first for everything. Or maybe not a first.

  "Let us return to my camp. We can better answer your questions there. The stories are many, the prophecies unclear to those who have not studied them fully."

  Oh yeah, the camp that Leahonia and her gang kidnapped me from. Maybe returning was not such a bad idea. At least I could get more comfortable and be away from dead bodies.

  "What about Lea-" I began to ask but the man waved his hand to disregard the question. Some hand signs transcend nations.

  "Things will be cleaned up here. Let us return.”

  c

  chapter twenty-five

  The trip back to the camp was bumpy, but uneventful outside of a few furtive glances my way from some of those riding in the back of the truck with me. They talked a good game about thinking that I was oh so ‘different’ or whatever, but seeing a girl eat a raw human heart had to cause doubts to creep into the mind. I knew I would sure be questioning my sanity for getting in the back of a beat up old pickup truck with a girl that just ate a raw human heart in front of me.

  I gave them props for only giving me a few odd glances when they thought I wasn't looking. Anyone else might have done far worse, like jump screaming from the back of the truck or plot my demise like the deceased Leahonia.

  I wasn’t usually the violent type, so I found it hard to believe that I had so brutally attacked her. I know she attacked me first, planned to re-kill me, and then she actually shot me. That didn't matter, it just seemed wrong that I somehow killed her, and so brutally at that.

  If only I knew what had come over me to make me so bloodthirsty. Maybe that was where the aforementioned legends came from. I did know that it sure sounded like Leahonia knew the same legends of terror from whatever "my kind" turned out to be, and it wasn't pretty. Could I escape from that nature? Could I change who people thought I was just because of my status in the living vs dead world? There were plenty of television drama series about just that sort of thing. How many times has the "vampire with a soul" trope played out in America? Exactly. Maybe I could be what I was with a soul.

  It could happen.

  I didn't want to be bloodthirsty or violent. I definitely didn't want to be part of some perv's weird and creepy undead army. Which made me think: I'd heard from two different sources now about undead army hoards. Who would use the undead as soldiers and why? More importantly, why was none of this mentioned in history lessons?

  The whole thing sounded like a bad horror movie you found on cable on a Saturday night. The shady government finds a way to turn soldiers into zombies and unleashes them on the world to obtain supreme world domination. It didn't sound like anything that would actually happen.

  Of course, in those movies things would backfire, the zombies would kill their leaders, and suddenly you had the zombie apocalypse going on and people would hole up in the bars and the malls hoping for salvation that would never come.

  Thinking about bad zombie horror movies made me wonder something new, something I was afraid to ask. Would Leahonia rise again? Like the victim of a zombie or a vampire? Would she now be undead, the thing she hated most?

  A part of me thought that would serve her right. Another part feared that it might be true. I wouldn't want this whole confusing thing to be on anyone else. More than that, I didn't want that to be Leahonia. That woman had some major issues and adding this whole undead thing would probably just make the situation worse.

  I decided not to think about Leahonia. After all, what good would that do? The woman was out of my hair for now and I couldn't be happier. She was like a bad case of head lice. Instead I focused on what would happen next.

  We drove down the bumpy roads of the middle of nowhere and I thought about what my so-called 'saviors' offered. They didn't really want to let me go, instead wanting to cart me off to South America. What was I going to do in the middle of nowhere South America? Then again, what was I really doing in the middle of nowhere here?

  Did these people not understand my intense desire to just go off and be myself, return home, and forget this nightmare of a vacation ever existed? I saw nothing wrong with this plan, and it sure beat whatever expectations they had of me as some 'chosen one'.

  Was I curious about the 'other prophecies' they mentioned about me? Okay, I'll admit - I was. Who wouldn't be a little interested to find out what people thought of their future? I still felt a little miffed that no one warned me that my life was going to go all wacky. Even if I couldn't prevent all of this insanity, at least with a little warning I could ensure that I would still have identification. And my Amex.

  When we arrived at the secluded camp, I planned to lay down the law. I really didn't want to go live on a mountain top somewhere in South America, even if it meant having adoring fans waiting on me. I really wasn't equipped to live without my gourmet drinks, air conditioning, and Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Too bad I had no idea how to really get that across to these people, even if they had saved my life twice now.

  The truck pulled up to the camp and my new buddies hopped out of the back of the truck without e
ven a backward glance in my direction. Nice. Chivalry was truly dead if the chosen one couldn't even get a helping hand out of the back of a truck. Maybe I should ask for a better ride.

  I held onto the side of the truck while I lowered myself to the ground with far less grace than I would want to admit to anyone. Face it, there's no way to look good getting out of the back of a beat up pick-up truck in the middle of nowhere. Glad I wasn't going out for Miss America or anything.

  Jon exited the cab of the truck and met me just as my feet landed on the ground. Impeccable timing. I wiped my hands on my thighs as he watched in silence. I'm guessing that meant that he was still all weirded out from watching me eat.

  Nothing I could do about that. At least I wasn't hungry, and I hoped that meant that there would be no more freaking people out with odd cravings. The bonus meant I wouldn't gross myself out with my odd cravings, either.

  In silence we followed the group to the main tent from before. Entering, I looked around but saw that no one was passed out or dead, so I had hopes for their wellbeing. Frick and Frack might have totally failed as bodyguards, but that was hardly their fault. I couldn't blame them for Leahonia slipping them a mickey. Who would have suspected that?

  The Head Honcho Duo were also totally missing in action. As was Anna-Lucia. Were they okay? Thank goodness at least one member of the cavalry that rode in to the rescue spoke English. There was something to be said for that, especially if Anna- Lucia was still down for the count. I'm not so sure I trusted Jon's Spanish, especially with his attitude.

  "Please, have a seat. I will go and check on our leaders and let them know you have returned." With that, my English-speaking friend ducked out of the tent.

  What better choice did I have but to acquiesce? I found the same seat I used before and sank to the floor. I gotta say, if you’re going to hang in a tent city, these floor pillows were totally the way to go. If I were the type to get sleepy, I could absolutely see myself curling up on one of these and taking a nap.

  That made me wonder, I had recently eaten. Surprise, surprise. Would that mean sleep was in my future once more? The nights got awful long and boring when you didn't sleep and there was no eight hundred channels of television to scroll through.

  c

  chapter twenty-six

  We weren't alone for long in the tent, but it was long enough that the silence began to feel uncomfortable. I could feel Jon's eyes on me, even after I turned away, unable to bear his stare. What did he think of me? Who was I fooling anyway? It's not like I expected him to let me hang around him for the rest of time. Nor did I want to. I had a life to get back to. It is what I kept arguing for, a return to my life in Virginia and to all things normal.

  I realized that return might never happen, or if it did, it would likely come at a heavy personal cost. Was I ready for that cost? More importantly, was I ready to lose Jon? It was ridiculous that I cared this much for the man I barely knew. Yet his kindness touched me. The sheer magnitude of what he did for me, raising me from the dead, nagged at me. I knew I could never truly be free of him.

  I tried not to think about Jon, choosing instead to focus on who came into the tent. It looked like the Head Honcho duo, but no one else that I actively recognized. What happened to Frick and Frack? And what about Anna-Lucia?

  It turned out the answers did come. Everyone settled into places, much as before. My new English-speaking friend took the place of Anna-Lucia and turned to look at me.

  "Anna-Lucia is very ill. There are people tending to her, however Don and Paulo are resting. They will return to your side soon, but we are hopeful the current threat is over, and you will be safe without their presence until they may return once more to your side."

  Really? People speak like this? Only if you were this guy.

  Jon looked at the man seated before us. "And what next? It seemed there was some unresolved business before Bea was kidnapped."

  "That is what we are here to determine. Our leaders would like to speak with you about that very matter."

  One of the men began speaking and our new interpreter turned away to converse in that strange foreign language. I bit my tongue, an attempt at patience.

  "The leaders state we will move out in the morning. They do not want to stay here with the camp compromised. We will be returning to..."

  "Wait just a minute. I don't know that I want to go with you. Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful that you came rolling in to save the day, but I still want to get back to my own life in America." I really needed to put a halt to any ideas of spiriting me further away from a solution to get back to Virginia.

  "Bea, maybe you should hear them out." Jon's voice came out soft, and I sighed.

  "Jon, I know you like the idea of running off to the middle of nowhere, away from all things civilized. It's just not my scene. I really don't want to follow them to I don't know where."

  "I'm just saying, they think they have ideas that might tell us more about you."

  "Look, I know enough about me. I'm me and I am from Virginia and I've had just about enough of all this. This is definitely not the sort of life that I'm cut out for. I just want to be back in the city and blend in with everyone else."

  Imagine that. Me, blend in. Who knew that being normal was something I'd desire to be at any point in my life? I had a few friends back home that would laugh at the very idea.

  "Bea, I get that. But I still think we need to learn more about, well…about you. Now more than ever."

  I glared at Jon. "What does that mean? Now more than ever? What are you trying to say?"

  He looked down and I swear he shrank from me. Shrank from me! Probably not a bad idea with the way I was feeling over his comment.

  "Well, I just meant, since you know..." he muttered.

  "What, Jon? Since I killed someone for shooting me? Self-defense. It's called self-defense. Or what is it, are you afraid because I ate something? You know, I haven't eaten in how many days?"

  Who cared that I hadn't been hungry at all until the moment I saw that heart? Who cared that it was a raw dead human heart? Maybe he should just be glad I wasn't looking at him like he was my next meal.

  "Well, yes, and you know, other things. We know you're strong and fast. We know you can heal. But will that continue on? Will you have to..." He paused to lick his lips and his voice dropped. "Eat something like that again or will other food suffice?"

  "Something else? Like what? Can you take me through the nearest drive through for a hamburger and a milkshake? Who cares? I can figure that out at home just as well as following these guys. I don't care what Leahonia said about these things. I am who I am, and this is not who I am."

  I waved at the large tent we sat in. "Don't get me wrong, this is lovely, I've never seen anything like it. But this smacks of camping a little too much and that's just not my scene. Call me when you get proper accommodations. I'll think about joining you then. Maybe."

  "Bea, I think you need to hear them out..." Jon glanced at the men before us, who seemed more than willing to let me talk myself out.

  "And what? They already said they want me to go back to wherever they are from. But I don't really want to go off to hide in the middle of nowhere. I think the threat is over. Leahonia is gone, I shouldn't have to worry."

  Our new translator cleared his throat. Jon and I turned to look at him.

  "I do not know that I would be so willing to assume the threat to your life is over. There are more that know the prophecies. There's a long history of your..."

  I cut him off. I may not be super academic, and I will even admit to skating by most of my classes in college. Okay, so those classes included history, but I think I would remember if someone said there were hordes of undead ravaging the North and South American countryside. That's just not something you forgot about.

  "A history of what? Leahonia already tried that spiel on me and I'm just not buying it. You cannot convince me that raising people from the dead is all that common, especially to use in ar
mies. People would talk about it. Heck, if nothing else, vampires and zombies wouldn't be so popular in the world today. I get that you mean well, but I really am not buying it."

  How many times did I have to tell them? Then again, I was still taking my own trip down the great river known as De Nile.

  "People do not like what they cannot understand. And not all people employed this method of warfare. It is possible that it was not known or has been purposefully forgotten. Things can get unpleasant and people would rather avoid that which is unpleasant."

  He had a point there. How many unpleasant things had I tried to block out of my mind? How about giant calendars falling on my head and killing me? I'd like to have forgotten about that. However, I could believe what he was saying. People tended to rewrite their own history to something that they fancied more; it wasn’t so inconceivable that people could have rewritten the history that would involve slobbering zombies killing zillions, leaving legends to build a mythos in the modern age. Tall tales, as it were. No wait, I was starting to come around to all this nonsense.

  "You claim it happened here in the Americas in primitive times, at least that's what it sounded like from what I've heard, but it sure doesn't sound modern in any way. So, I don't see how I could be in any danger or how I could be chosen to lead anything. Give me one good reason to believe you."

  "I am not a scholar of other cultures, but we are not the only ones to believe this is possible. And given some of the history that I've read, I do believe it is possible that other areas employed the use of the undead as was done here. I believe you can think of times that could fall into that realm yourself if you tried hard enough."

  "I don't know about that. War is brutal. People die. It's what happens. Like in the Civil War, that was just so bad. Hundreds of thousands or whatever were killed, and all over slavery. But I don't think anyone was raising the dead or anything."

  "Maybe, maybe not. You'd have to take another look at the battles yourself and make that determination. It's not for us to know. The Elders told me that they thought something happened in Italy..."