Topher Nightshade vs. The Camp of The Undead Apocalypse

by Drew Hayes

  “Topher, I’m making all this shit up as I go along; it just seems like a good plan to me.” Truthfully, a newly-familiar dread was creeping in to her gut, but Kay ignored it willfully. Whether she had the actual gift or she was just turning in to a worrier, it didn’t matter. This needed to be done, and she was the one at the wheel.

  “I’ll pass along the message, but we’ll have no way of knowing if she’ll hear it, or agree to it.”

  “Don’t worry so much. If I show up and Velt isn’t there, I’ll just have to signal her.” Kay’s eyes darted quickly to the liquor bottle and lighter tucked securely between the seats. She’d never been much of a firebug, but there was always time to pick up a new hobby.

  “Though, for the sake of the local flora, you might want to really try and get her to be there.”

  * * *

  Velt had felt when the second ritual completed; the burst of magical energy nearly made her grind her teeth. But even if she hadn’t been keyed in to the energy’s flow, Irwin’s fit as the power swept over him would have been more than clue enough. There was no way the first one had been that strong; even back at the main hall she would have felt it. Her eyes darted around immediately, searching for any sign that might put her on The Emissary’s trail. All she caught was a fading glow in the direct opposite end of the forest: the end that, had she ignored Irwin, she would have been much closer to.

  The spirit was watching her carefully, waiting for some sort of reaction. She was tempted, very tempted in fact, to whirl around on him and see what confrontation would yield. It was only through tremendous self-control that she bit back that impulse. There was always the chance it was an honest mistake, and if that wasn’t the case, she had no reason to tip her hand and let him know she was on to him. Thankfully, Topher’s voice soon came over the earpiece, giving her the distraction she needed to avoid talking with Irwin and letting her anger slip.

  “Velt, this is Topher. Not sure if you can hear me, but Auggie and I just figured out what the second ritual did. Auggie can touch inanimate objects. Nothing living, though. I’m going to warn Kay, as well. Good luck.”

  “What did he say?” Irwin asked. Though he was able to make out the electric crackle of the earpiece’s activation, fine details had escaped his eavesdropping.

  “He just confirmed that the second ritual was completed,” Velt told him. “Apparently, you lot can touch things now.”

  Irwin looked at her doubtfully, then carefully bent down and plucked a pine cone from the ground. He nearly doubled over in shock when his hand made contact with it, the rough texture scraping against his fingers. It was uncomfortable, but Irwin was brought to the brink of joyful tears by the sensation. How long had it been since he’d touched something?

  “Useful for you guys, sort of a pain for us,” Velt summed up. “Also, just a word of caution: don’t try to touch me. Not even a hug or a fist-bump. Even if I’m not attacking, physical contact can cause a lot of pain for the spirits doings the touching.”

  “I appreciate the warning,” Irwin said, letting the pinecone fall from his grip. “What’s our next move, now that the second ritual is done? Try and track him to the third?”

  “About the only thing we can do,” Velt lied. “Hopefully your friends have caught sight of him. Why don’t you go over the trees and get a status report?”

  “Will I still be able to phase through the branches? I mean, since I can touch things now . . .”

  “Hell if I know, this shit is all new to me too. Just give it a shot. Even if you can’t, they won’t be able to hurt you.”

  Irwin nodded then floated upward. Velt watched him go, eager to see if he was now bound by some level of corporeality. It turned out to not be the case, as Irwin was able to move through the branches with seemingly minimal effort. It was too bad; she’d have loved it if the spirits had to play by the same rules as she. That would have made fighting The Emissary much easier.

  Her earpiece crackled again, nearly causing her to jump.

  “Velt, Kay is en route with the SUV to pick you up. She says to be at the spot where she dropped you off. I’m not exactly sure what, but she seems to have a backup plan for getting your attention in case you can’t hear this. Please go meet her; Auggie has gone through enough tonight. I don’t want to find out what Kay’s idea is, and I’m positive Auggie doesn’t want to deal with the fallout from it.”

  He hadn’t needed to push so hard; this actually worked perfectly with what Velt had planned. Chasing The Emissary was proving to be a bust, and now, she had a possible traitor to worry about. It was time to shift tactics before they ran out of time entirely. Screw running around in the dark; Velt had never been much for cat and mouse games. She liked a good ol’ fashioned, bloody showdown.

  She moved as quickly as she could, hustling through the brush at top speed. Irwin’s guidance had taken her away from the site of the actual ritual either mistakenly or intentionally, but it had also brought her closer to the edge of the forest. It was a pretty shitty consolation prize compared with stopping The Emissary, but she wasn’t in a position to turn away any stroke of luck she could get.

  * * *

  Despite what he’d said, Irwin made no attempt to find Clinton and Art floating over the treetops. Instead, he hung below the canopy and zipped across the forest as quickly as he could, easily locating the remains of the site. From there, it only took a moment or two of searching to track down The Emissary as the creature skulked through the woods. Irwin floated down, coming to rest several feet away from the spirit in the stolen body. Even though he’d done as he was told, it still terrified him to be so close to this being.

  “She’ll never catch up to you,” Irwin said. “I led her halfway back to the camp.”

  “Well done.” The Emissary eyed the spirit carefully. Irwin was all but glowing with satisfaction, a combination of finally being able to touch things and contentment with having properly carried out his orders. Had he been nervous, twitchy, or even the slightest bit apprehensive, The Emissary would have assumed betrayal and torn Irwin to shreds. His emotions seemed genuine, though, and Irwin certainly didn’t come off as smart or charming enough to manage a lie. “And you returned for more instructions, I take it?”

  “Oh . . . sure.” Irwin’s joy began to evaporate as he realized he’d opened the door on more, possibly dangerous, work. “Anything I can do to help out the cause.”

  The Emissary nodded Auggie’s head. “The woman. Where is she now?”

  “She was across the forest when I left her. I’m supposed to be talking to the others and finding out if they saw you.”

  “Then your next job is a simple one: stop her. What we seek to do is too important to risk her interference. Whether you cripple the woman or kill her outright is of no concern, just make sure she is no longer in any shape to try and stop the remaining rituals. The third will take the longest to perform, and is some distance from here. I need the space to work without the worry of her interrupting hanging over head.”

  “Wait . . . you want me to attack her? How? She said her touch injured spirits.”

  “And she spoke the truth,” The Emissary said, the memory of her attack still fresh in his mind. “But there are plenty of ways to injure someone without touching them, especially in a place as dangerous as a forest.” The shadow-talons emerged from the tips of Auggie’s hands, and The Emissary raked them down a nearby tree trunk, leaving long gashes where he struck. “Be creative, be inspired; just be successful, no matter what. When our new world is born, I will not forget the names of those who helped usher it in. Nor will I forget to whisper those names in the ear of our god.”

  The Emissary turned away and continued off into the woods, clearly intent on reaching the next site as soon as possible. Behind him, Irwin wrung his hands as he tried to think of way to stop Velt without putting himself at risk.

  In truth, The Emissary did not expect Irwin to succeed. The woman, evil as she was, possessed the spirit of a warrior. No nerveless
coward obeying orders would ever triumph over one such as her. Still, his futile attempt would at least slow her down a bit. If that cost Irwin his grip on this plane, it was an acceptable loss.

  * * *

  It took Velt nearly fifteen minutes to make it back to the clearing, long enough to wonder both if Irwin was going to come back and try to bluff her and whether she had been fast enough to stop whatever sort of destructive signal Kay had planned. The latter, thankfully, turned out to be in the affirmative.

  Velt emerged from the woods and was suddenly bathed in headlights. She saw Kay standing by the hood and scowling impatiently; in her hand was the lighter Velt had lent her, the bottle of liquor sitting conspicuously at her feet. Nearby was a pile of sticks that appeared to have been recently gathered. It didn’t take much of an intuitive leap to figure out what would have happened if Velt had taken much longer, nor to realize that the makeshift fireplace was far too close to the forest to be lit safely.

  “I have a feeling there’s a bear with a hat who needs to discuss some things about fire safety with you,” Velt said.

  “You sound like the cop who broke up my amateur pyrotechnics club,” Kay shot back. “Any leads on Auggie’s body?”

  “I’ve got jack shit. We’re going to have to try something different. I’ll explain when we’re back at the main hall; I’m too worn out to deal with all the objections and complaints you people will raise more than once.”

  “Fuck all, and I thought Auggie was wound tight,” Kay quipped. “Come on and get in. If you’ve got some ass-crazy plan, we’re better off starting it sooner than later.”

  Velt complied, both women piling into the dark SUV. From the darkness of the forest, creeping in the shadows and staying out of sight, a third figure hurried over to the vehicle. It entered through the back, phasing through the metal as if it weren’t even there.

  “Do you need to get your ghosts first?” Kay asked.

  Velt shook her head. If Irwin was compromised, she had to assume it was possible all three were working together. Clinton and Art had seemed like decent guys, but until she was sure, it was best to play it safe and keep them in the dark. Her plan was already so risky, it bordered on a Hail Mary; she didn’t need to worry about getting ratted out on top of everything else.

  “I don’t have any way to get in contact with them, but they seem smart. If they can’t find The Emissary, they’ll come back to the main hall. Or maybe they’ll try and take cover. Either way, it doesn’t matter. We don’t particularly need them for this next part.”

  Kay fired up the engine and accelerated down the hill. Velt quickly realized their brief time apart had done nothing to curb Kay’s tendency toward driving at reckless speeds no matter the terrain. Thankfully, it was a short drive back to the main hall, so Velt assumed they wouldn’t have any trouble making it back safely, even with Kay’s lead foot.

  Less than half an hour ago, when enlightening to Irwin about his ability to touch things, Velt had been careful not to let him know that his power didn’t extend to human flesh. She’d even been ready to trick him in to thinking it did should he have pressed the issue, since, for her, spirits had always been tangible. There was no calculated plan in that moment, no grand scheme to turn this misinformation against him: Velt simply made it a point not to let people she didn’t trust have any more information than was necessary. It spoke to her deep-seated distrust issues; these issues also explained why she spent most holidays alone and hadn’t managed a functional relationship in half a decade. That tendency to hide truths and keep secrets had left her cut off from the world for most of her life, even among people who shared gifts similar to hers. It had caused her years of loneliness and aggravation.

  On this particular occasion, however, that paranoid tendency of Velt’s saved Kay’s life.

  Pudgy, spectral hands snaked forward from the back seat, grabbing at Kay’s throat, intent on squeezing the life from her and sending the SUV out of control. Irwin’s brow was focused in concentration as he extended his fingers; he was determined to knock her out quickly, before Velt could scramble over the seats and stop him. He brought his hands together, using as much force as he could in hopes of collapsing her throat.

  When those translucent hands went right through Kay’s neck, the only person more shocked than she was Irwin.

  “What the fuck!” Kay yelped.

  “Goddamnit!” Irwin snapped, flexing his hands and trying again. He knew he could do this; he’d practiced grabbing things the entire time he’d silently trailed Velt. He could do it, and he had to hurry. Another attempt. Another failure. Irwin didn’t get the chance to make a third.

  “Hey, shithead.” Irwin glanced in the direction of Velt’s voice, which meant he caught her right hook directly on his nose. Unlike with Kay, there was no trouble feeling Velt’s skin, and she hadn’t been kidding about her warning. Touching that bitch hurt.

  “Fuck!” Irwin scrambled back, reaching up to stop the flow of blood that would never come. He felt lightheaded, weaker than he’d been mere moments before. Had he been able to see himself, Irwin would have realized he’d become fuzzier around the edges, and that small billows of energy were leaking out of him.

  Velt reached back, trying to get a grip on him without undoing her safety belt, and Irwin got an idea. He grabbed the seatbelt crossed over Kay’s chest, held on tight, and yanked it back as hard as he could. The belt compressed, knocking some of the breath out of her lungs, and causing a strip of pain where it was digging in to her. She jerked the wheel reflexively, avoiding the rear corner of a cabin by mere inches.

  “You son of a bitch, I knew you were a traitor.” The violence in Velt’s eyes caused Irwin’s non-existent stomach to drop into his toes. If she got her hands on him, he had no doubt it would be the end. This provided an excellent kick of motivation to make sure that never happened.

  “A traitor? Clinton and Art are traitors, trying to help the living. I’m dead already, why wouldn’t I want a world where the dead rule?” Irwin glanced out the front windshield. They were coming up on the main hall, but there was still a dip in the road and several cabins before they arrived. He needed to end this, soon.

  “You could have realized that you already had your time, and that there is already a place for your kind.” Velt grabbed for him again, but he was halfway phased through the door.

  Irwin pulled harder on the seatbelt, and Kay began to see dark spots at the edges of her vision.

  “Why would I want that? I wasn’t supposed to die in the first place! I wasn’t done with my life yet! I was important; I worked for a government agency. I had a lot to live for. But someone up there fucked up and made me choke to death. Well, I’ll show them. Irwin Pistole doesn’t just go off silently. Try to take me out of the world, and I’ll take the whole damn world down with me!”

  At that, Velt finally reached down and unfastened her seatbelt, lunging toward Irwin. This was exactly what he’d been waiting for. Irwin reached forward with his free hand, through the seat and Kay’s torso, and grabbed hold of the wheel she was weakly clutching. He jerked it to the left, causing a front wheel to clip the stone foundation of a cabin that had rotted away.

  As soon as the wheel struck, physics took over. The tire exploded, and the SUV was tossed upward as Kay’s speedy driving habits finally came home to roost. It rolled on to the passenger side, skidding several feet before coming to a stop. Kay managed to stay in her seat, Irwin’s death grip on her belt actually holding her in place, but Velt was tossed around like she was weightless. By the time the SUV came to a halt, she was lying against the door, blood dripping down her face, momentarily dead to the world.

  For a brief moment, Irwin considered trying to finish her off as Kay groaned in the driver’s seat. Had she not already popped him once, he might have had the courage to do it. But the memory of the punch, as well as the after-effects, made him hesitant to come near her. It was possible she was faking again, or that, even unconscious, she would still be painfu
l to touch. In the end, Irwin assured himself he had completed his task and floated off toward the woods.

  Dead or not, Velt wouldn’t be doing any more meddling before it was too late to make a difference.

  Chapter 11

  Blood didn’t actually taste like pennies, not when there was enough of it to really get an appreciation for the flavor. Sure, if one licked a small cut or bit a chunk from their cheek, it was easy to understand how the overpowering first rush of copper would lend itself to the flavor of one-cent coins. But when one’s mouth filled up with the stuff, there was honestly no way to make such a comparison. Blood didn’t taste like anything except what it was: blood. It was the very life of the body leaking out, and being forced to experience that in the form of flavor was one of the worst sensations to wake up to.

  Velt dearly wished it was the first time she was doing just that. Hell, she’d have been happy if it were so rare an event that she didn’t immediately know what was going on. Sadly, the minute her mind fluttered open, she felt the viscous liquid in her mouth and understood it to be blood. With a weary grunt of effort, she pushed herself up and spat out three sizable wads of scarlet saliva.

  “Holy shit! You can move?”

  Kay was nearby, her arms and face a bit cut up but bearing no truly extensive injuries. She was still buckled in to her seatbelt, suspended sideways in the now-flipped SUV.

  “Looks like it. Let’s see how much.” Velt pushed herself up, gripping the sides of the seats as she struggled to get off the crumpled door. Thankfully, Auggie had gotten an SUV with all the safety features, glass that broke in to pebbles rather than shards being one of them. If they’d had to deal with real glass, Velt was pretty sure she’d be in ribbons. As it was, the pain in her leg had increased markedly, now joined by a sharp ache in her left knee. Her left arm had fared surprisingly well, but her right was broken. It had smashed against the door in the fall and fractured in two, maybe three places. Despite all the blood in her mouth, she only had shallow cuts in her scalp; they’d just gushed like faucets. A deep breath told her that she had bruised, if not broken, several ribs.