by Les Goodrich
“No way she could have made the end of the alley if they were on her heels,” Rick said. “Even if they were twenty steps behind. Hell, even if she had a forty step head start. It’s two hundred feet to the end. Maybe more.”
“He used some kind of a cloaking spell on her,” Tanner said. “He must have sampled the shadow light somehow.”
“Under that first landing is pretty dark,” Jordan observed and she walked to the spot along the far wall. She looked at the ground but the scattered debris and collected dirt told nothing. She moved along the wall. The bricks were as old as the oldest parts of the city and their yellow and grey-streaked colors echoed the yellow banks of the Tunica clay mines along the Mississippi River from where they had come in the eighteen-hundreds. “Right there,” Jordan said and she pointed to a maroon smudge just above her waist level and both Rick and Tanner leaned to look.
“Blood,” Rick said.
“The girl’s blood,” Jordan said. “This is where she hit the wall when he moved her under the landing to sample the shade. I can feel it.”
“Good work,” Rick said. “We should’ve come here first.” Jordan rolled her eyes. Rick dug in his bag and pulled out a small metal file. He scraped flecks of the dried blood into a small glass vial of moonwater.
“What’s that gonna solve?” Tanner asked him.
“This is victim blood. The blood of someone figment hexed. It’ll have his energy signature. It’s nearly as good as his own blood for what we’re trying to do.”
“And what’s that?” Tanner asked.
“Find him,” Rick said and he shook the vial and the liquid turned pink then red.
It was one p.m. When Jordan parked on Arts Street and the three walked to the cemetery gates on Saint Roch Avenue. Josephine, Grayson, and Charles were walking up from the other direction and they met on the sidewalk.
“We found something,” Jordan said and she explained the blood and the crystal tracking spell to Josephine as Rick removed the aqua aura quartz and the red vial of bloodwater. He found a small depression in the sidewalk, removed the crystal from its chain cage, and placed it in the cupped concrete. He knelt, poured the liquid over the blue quartz where it fumed, swirled his wand over the anointed stone, and whispered an invocation. He replaced the crystal in the chain and stood.
“Is five blocks small enough of an area for that thing to work?” Tanner asked.
“You never know but if we circle the graveyard we’ll hit one edge of each block. That should be near enough to get a signal. Let’s go.”
On her rooftop Fallon arranged a chair, table, and her steaming tea set. She poured a cup of jasmine green tea with honey and sipped it in the cool air. She scanned the rooftops and street rows. She watched the streets and the alley under the house but only tourists seemed to be about.
She went down into her room and came back with her tripod telescope over her shoulder. She set it up and searched for the Saint Rocha Cemetery. She saw the tower near her friend’s house and she moved the telescope slowly and found her friend’s roof. She spotted the cemetery with its rows of tiny crypt buildings and she pulled back the zoom until she could see the streets around and just beyond it. Then she sat again and drank her tea and watched the city.
Rick held his crystal chain and the stone swung and spun. Saint Roch Avenue was divided with a strip of wooded park down the middle and Rick jogged up the sidewalk to the northwest corner to begin. He crossed the street into the wooded park and began to walk south between the graveyard and the first neighborhood block. The others followed. The crystal swung and spun but did not aim in any specific direction. Rick walked on.
“Watch our backs,” He said but Grayson was already doing so. Charles walked slightly ahead of the group, Tanner and Jordan kept pace just behind Rick, and Josephine flowed along behind them searching the lanes and alleys and even the treetops.
They exited the park lane and turned left to head east on North Derbigny Street that ran below the cemetery walls on that side. Music Street divided the two sections of graveyard and continued between the neighborhoods to the north.
“What do you think?” Jordan asked looking up Music Street framed by the high white graveyard walls along each sidewalk.
“I don’t see any reason to go in that,” Rick said. “And I’d hate to get caught in there.” They continued along North Derbigny. The crystal slowed its swing and seemed to prefer a spot ahead. Rick looked to Tanner. “See that?” he asked.
“Keep going,” Tanner said and they walked as a group to the corner at Art Street. At the corner the crystal swung to aim squarely into the neighborhood block formed between Derbigny Street, Roman Street, Painter’s Street to the east, and the cemetery wall to the west.
“This is it. He’s in this block. Come on,” Rick said and he walked cautiously and divided his attention between the pointing crystal and the terrain ahead. Buildings. Gaps between houses. Porches. Fences. And the ever-present graveyard.
They moved into the yards and crept from house to house following the will of the crystal as it pointed and they grew more apprehensive with each step. They were within an interior common area of grass and trees formed by the row houses along the four streets and the crystal began to glow an aqua light and vibrate and point toward a two story house with black windows.
Dark clouds had convened over the city under a swift cold front and the temperature dropped. The air grew damp. Fallon dashed to retrieve a coat and when she came back to the roof she saw stream of green light rising into the grey clouds from the Saint Roch blocks. She looked through the telescope but the cold air had fogged the lens and she hastily wiped it with her cotton dress.
She moved back and looked again. The streaming green light issued from a house east of the graveyard but as she looked the worry of the light fell away and she saw legions of staggering and limping ghouls pouring from the cemetery gates on two sides.
She tried to spot her family and friends but could not. She frantically searched. She dashed down the stairs, under her ivy curtained loft, and grabbed her laptop in hopes of finding a map online to give her friends accurate directions.
On the roof she set her machine on an upturned crate, opened the screen, and searched for a map of the city.
In Figment’s lair a bell chimed and he rolled from one desk to the other. “No way,” he whispered then he said, “Gotcha,” with a malicious victory in his voice and he worked methodically to hex his most treasured prize. “Fallon Lemort, at last,” he said and as she searched the map she did not notice the nearly imperceptible green light that began to glow deep in her monitor’s built in camera.
Fallon looked through the telescope once she had memorized a few street names from the map and she saw her aunt’s familiar white turban and with her were the others on the far sidewalk and only their heads were visible over the far graveyard wall then they vanished into the block of homes. She fumbled for her phone, calmed her nerves, then skipped the tedium of texting in favor of an old fashioned call.
Josephine’s phone rang and the shock of it caused Tanner, Jordan, and Rick to jump but not the other men because they knew the tone. “Fallon,” Josephine said and she answered the phone.
“Aunt Jo. There are zombies. Tons of them. They’re pouring from the graveyard in two places. They’re moving along Derbigny and Roman.” Fallon knew that if they stayed in the east block they would be surrounded. But with a cold insistence beyond her will she heard herself speak and she could not believe her own words. They flowed even as Figment typed them. “Go back to Music Street, Between Derbigny and Roman.”
“Fallon are you sure?”
“Yes I’m watching them advance. It’s your only chance to stop them. You can cut them off that way.” Tears formed on Fallon’s cheeks and she knew she was leading them into a trap.
“How many?” Josephine asked and that question got the full attention of the others.
“A dozen at least on each side. More come every minute.”
> “Anything else?”
“A green light from one of the houses. It’s gone now,” Fallon said and that had been her true thought but no other true words came and her heart fluttered behind her ribs, frantic and terrified, like a hummingbird trapped in a barn roof.
“We’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Call me if you see anything else. Great job Fallon,” Josephine ended and hung up. “We’re gonna have company. A host of undead, two dozen strong, and flanking us as we speak. Grayson, you and I’ll take point. Charles, take one of them and cover us from behind. We have to cut them off on Music Street.”
“The alley between the cemetery walls?” Grayson asked.
“We can corner them in there but we must hurry.”
Tanner and Jordan looked to Rick Warren and he smiled a devilish grin. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’ll need Jordan with me. Tanner you go with Charles and kick some ass.”
“Will do,” Tanner said and he and Charles set off behind Josephine and Grayson.
Jordan pulled out her wand and hastily drew a pentacle in the air above her head. “I’m not going any further without protection.” She traced the star and recited the Morrighan chant as before. The pentacle glowed purple and spun. “You want one?” she asked Rick.
“Be my guest,” he said and Jordan cast the spell over him and they walked on.
Josephine and Grayson made the corner past the southeast graveyard wall. They saw nothing in the alley and moved in. Tanner and Charles were right behind them and they slowed their run and walked into the lane. Ahead they saw their mindless foes wheezing and trudging their way. “Stop,” Josephine said. “I wish I had more time but I’ll make this fast.”
“Whatever it is,” Grayson reasoned, “you better be quick. Here they come.”
Josephine gathered her white skirts and knelt. She clasped her hands and closed her eyes. The undead rabble advanced along the Music Street alley and kept a lumbering but steady pace. Tanner and Charles watched their backs and down the alley toward Derbigny Street, but all was clear from that way. Josephine concentrated and spoke. “We call upon the powerful Lwas who protect the Cities of the Dead. The mighty Oya, we ask humbly that you join us, as the guardian of all graveyard gates. Our offerings are our dire needs and the message that some foul wickedness has violated the sanctity of a final resting place. The Saint Roch’s Cemetery overflows. We beg you to stem this dismal tide.” Josephine stood. “That should do it. It can’t hurt.”
The resplendent glowing figure of Oya appeared among the Saint Roch crypts and she flew to a high wall and outstretched her arms. Her purple light suffused the overcast blocks of stone and statue and all undead still within the cemetery walls who had been issuing forth retreated cowering back to their crypts. Those outside the walls continued to advance and at that point each street numbered thirteen.
“This isn’t good,” Charles said and the alley behind them filled with undead drones and malicious ghosts. “Now we’re surrounded.”
Grayson cracked his knuckles and walked toward those on his end. On the opposite side Charles did the same. Tanner brandished his wand and Charles fought them as they came. Grayson attacked with relish and Josephine withdrew her shining sword and with great power and dexterity she sent zombie heads rolling. The four were cornered from both sides and there was nothing for it and all they could do was fight for their lives.
An elderly woman nearby rocked in a chair on her porch and worked at crocheting a blanket. She watched the fighting through one alley end as one might watch a ball game on television. At the commotion her husband shuffled out through the front door and let the screen door slap closed behind him. “What in Sam Hill is going on out here?” he asked.
“Just voodoo witches fighting zombies,” the woman said.
“Bha!” the old man gestured with his hand as if waving away some nuisance. “Zombies are always dropping the property value in this neighborhood. I’ve said it for years,” he moaned and he went back inside and the woman rocked and knitted on.
In the hateful alley Tanner’s energy grew weak and he had exhausted his power to cast thousands of watts and the remaining ghosts laughed their sinister recognitions and stepped over their oozing and vanquished comrades. The four friends fought and the foes pressed in upon them and it was all they could do to fend off the advances of each zombie in turn who brought strength and a reckless hate with every blow. And where any undead fell a ghost was there to torment and tug and fill each soul with ideas of death and delusion. Scenes of childhood. Memories of departed loved ones. Fears of existentialism. A universe void of love spun around them to infinity. Stars wheeled under their feet. Dread. And cold uncaring hands upon them at every turn.
On the rooftop Fallon watched herself stand and she could see over the buildings to the cemetery block in the distance where sparks and lights from spells arced and flashes from swords gleamed and the moans of all things dead and cursed echoed. She had sent them into a trap and she, herself, was no less trapped and her situation had caused her to cry and with each step her heart grew frail and she saw the edge of the roof grow closer. She knew she was going to die and she was going to watch it happen.
She stood for a long minute. Another. The air was cold and she thought of all the people in all the homes and she wondered what they were doing. Living peaceful lives. Fighting with their wives. Laughing at some movie. Worrying about their bills. In her heart she cried out and for some reason she pictured Jordan and the very thought made her happy. She saw herself take another step.
Chapter 20
It Never Happened
From the canopied block Jordan and Rick heard the garbled screams of zombies being torn apart behind them and Rick’s crystal lifted and glowed and there was no doubt that they were at Figment’s house. He coiled the chain around the stone and stashed it in his bag. With wands out he and Jordan moved up the shaky wood steps.
“Any plan?” Jordan asked. “Or do we just bust in and hope we can get him before he gets us?”
“Do you have any other ideas?” Rick asked.
“Reflect-Fire. You know that spell?”
“Yeah I know it. That’s genius.”
“It could be our only hope. But this guy’s tricky.”
“We have to hit him with it line of sight,” Rick added.
“True but you know how it works right?”
“Yeah. It causes a person’s attacks to rebound on them. The more they throw at you, the more they hurt themselves. There’s no defense against it.”
“Once you actually hit them with it, right. Have you ever cast it?”
“Back in training camp. You?”
“Well, no.”
“Great,” Rick said.
“You asked me if I had any ideas. That’s my idea. Now are we gonna stand out here all night or what?”
Rick turned the rusted door knob and it was unlocked. The door creaked open. The two moved into the dark home and with their first breath the air filled their lungs with stale decay. Jordan’s skin crawled. The dark interior was large and void to the walls of furniture. A doorway toward the back into another room. A hallway and stairs that rose beside it to the left. A cold stone fireplace.
“Very brave witches,” a cold voice curdled but from where it came they could not tell. “Very brave, or very stupid.”
Jordan turned. The voice seemed to be right behind her but there was no one.
A shadow dashed from the doorway at the rear into the hallway under the stairs and Jordan whispered, “Reflect-Fire,” and lifted her wand but the bright yellow light from the spell hit the wall Figment’s laugh echoed.
“You whisper it?” Rick said and they advanced.
“I don’t know!” Jordan whispered urgently. “I didn’t want him to hear it.”
They moved into the hallway and it led to another empty room. No windows and no doors. “Back up. Go back,” Rick said and they moved back into the empty living room.
“This is too much,” Jordan said. �
��I’m freaking out.”
“We’re going upstairs,” Rick said.
“He wants us to. This sucks. We should’ve come in here with an army.”
“Follow me and watch our backs,” Rick said and he began up the stairs. Jordan moved with him.
“I should have my head examined. This is a goddamn trap. You know it, and I know it. Oh remember Jordan Beaumont? Oh yeah, whatever happened to her? Killed by stupidity with some IWM agent.”
“Shush,” Rick said and Jordan shook her head.
“Fucking shoot me then, Giorgio Jones.”
They climbed the creaking steps. At the landing the top floor was arranged in a square with a wide loft surrounding the stairwell and on each of the four walls was a closed door and in each of the four corners was a hallway.
“What style is this?” Jordan said. “Late 19th century Trap?”
“Exio!” came the curse from the hall ahead on their left and the crackle of a stun spell glanced across the protective haze and barley caught Rick’s shoulder. The power of it slung him around. He adjusted his crooked hat and leaned against the wall for support. Jordan ducked and even before Figment’s spell landed she shouted, “Body-Bind!” and barely missed Figment and he vanished back into the hall.
“Can you move?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Rick shook off the effects and only his shoulder felt numb. “I think your little protection spell just saved my neck. Or Fallon’s charm.”
“You’re just full of girl magick today huh. It won’t take too many direct hits like that though. But it’s two against one. We can take him.” She and Rick began to move toward the far hall.
The hall was empty but turned right and they moved along it. The far end turned right again and they realized it went behind the room where the one door was and they emerged on the far corner of the landing from where they had come up the stairs.
Rick looked at the other halls and the other doors and together they gathered that each hallway went behind each of the four rooms and each room had but one door. Maybe. They also realized they had no idea where Figment might be.