by Sasha White
Chapter 41
My dusting comment was greeted with horrified stares from all three of them. “What?”
“You’d send them to nothingness?” Sexy Cindy asked, clearly appalled. I had to remind myself that the dead were, for all intents and purposes, the closest friends she and Freddy had probably had in the past few years.
“Look, they went into the ground and stayed there.” I tried to speak as patiently and kindly as I could. “Ken checked them all before they were interred. None of them could become an undead. None of them ascended.”
“We didn’t ascend,” Freddy interjected. “And according to all of you, we were angel material.”
“Angel material and ascension aren’t the same thing. In many cases, yes. Black Angels One and Two, Martin, Jude, and so forth. But in other cases, souls ascend and don’t become undeads.”
“What do they become?” Jack asked.
“Well, they’re still them, but they reside with the Gods, so to speak. They don’t fight in the War. I think some of them act as advisors. Others I think really get their version of heaven.”
“You want to explain that?” Freddy sounded thoughtful.
“I can’t. It’s complicated and the only undeads who ever go up to visit with the Gods and those who have ascended are angels. They don’t share much, as a rule.” I tried to think of an example they’d understand. “Mother Theresa’s up with the Gods and Monsters, in what she would consider heaven.”
“She didn’t turn into an angel?” Sexy Cindy sounded shocked.
I coughed. “No. She’d done her angel work on Earth. I guess…look at ascension as retirement. You did everything the Gods and Monsters could have hoped for on your original plane of existence and unless you want to fight, you deserve your chance to relax. Martin wanted to fight. Mother Theresa didn’t.”
They all nodded. “Why the Gods and Monsters?” Jack asked. “Why not just the Gods?”
“Some of the monsters are good, too. In case you missed it.”
Jack had the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry. So, back to why you’re okay with dusting the dead perps here?”
I sighed. “If they didn’t ascend and weren’t undead material, as explained before, they’re here, waiting to be foot soldiers in the War. As Cindy pointed out the last time we visited, they’re all set to be a part of the Army of the Damned. There are a lot of dead who just didn’t have an undead nearby to help them change, and they could end up on the side of the Gods and Monsters. However, in Prosaic City, that’s not really the case. You die here, we’re on it. Ergo, if you die here and you stay in the ground….”
They all nodded. “Makes sense.” Jack was back to full cop. “So, how do we dust them, if we have to?”
“Lucky for the three of you, I’m the only one with the right weapon.”
“What about the little crossbow and the Evil Fairy Repellent?” Sexy Cindy asked.
“Not evil fairies, not undeads. Won’t do a thing to them.”
“What about that special gun of yours, the one you keep at your back?” Jack asked. “Why don’t you have that out?”
“It’s got special bullets, but they’re for undeads and the like. Not for dead bodies.”
“What are you going to use then?” Jack sounded concerned.
I shifted into wolf form. “Me.”
I truly hoped I wasn’t going to have to dust. There were a variety of ways to dust a dead body, but only a few undeads were any good for it.
“You mind explaining this?” Jack asked, back to cop voice on full.
“Yeah I do, but anything to pass the time. Because the dead whose souls remain in the dirt and the dark are tied to their bodies, it’s easier to dust them than to kill an undead of any kind.”
“They know they’re in the dark?” Freddy sounded horrified.
“No. The soul is, oh, call it the sleep of the dead. No comprehension, no knowledge. Until they’re awakened, and then, as you saw, knowledge of what’s going on comes to them. But they can only comprehend what they could when they were alive. So, stupid in life means stupid in death.”
“Makes sense,” Jack said. “So, you destroy the bodies?”
“Yes. We turn them to dust, literally.”
“You mean like cremation?” Sexy Cindy asked.
“In a way. It’s one of the reasons Yahweh’s sort of big on the no cremation thing. He doesn’t want to lose potential good undeads. However, a cremated human could still turn undead, since cremation happens days after someone dies and undeads form pretty much immediately upon death, give or take a little wiggle room. Only humans cremate, by the way. Interesting trivia fact you should store away in case you end up playing Undead Pursuit with Edgar or H.P.”
“So filing,” Freddy said. I figured he had the best shot for that game, anyway. “So, how does it work?”
“Well, it’s easiest with liches, witches or warlocks. They cast a ‘dust and scatter’ or ‘dust and contain’ spell and, as long as it has enough power and hits the target, it’s all over. A Golem will take the body into a live kiln and do some sort of Golem thing to ensure the soul goes along with the rest of the dusting. Neat and tidy.”
“No liches, witches, warlocks, or Golem around,” Jack mentioned.
“And, sadly, no fiery furnace either. For vampires, drain any blood left, suck out and spit out other fluids, body withers into dust, taking soul with it. Gross but effective.”
“Also no vamps here just now,” Sexy Cindy offered.
“Right. And if they were, they’d be more worried about getting some SPF one thousand to avoid being dusted than dusting someone else. Angels can do it, but it’s complicated for them and normally angelic dusting is reserved for a major minion. While we have angels here, they’re kind of busy. Which leaves werewolves. For us it’s even grosser than for vamps. And after my freefalling experience, I’m not hungry at all.”
This floated heavily on the air. The three of them looked a little green, though Jack also looked far too interested. I didn’t really relish the idea of him watching me chow down in this way, but I wasn’t in a position to ask him to look away.
“What’ll we do while you do…whatever it is you’re going to do?” Sexy Cindy asked finally.
“Back me, keep any of the deaders from getting away, help the angels if they need it.” I tried not to gag thinking about what might be coming. “Find me some seriously strong alcohol to wash my mouth out with. That sort of thing.”
I heard quiet gagging from the others. They had no idea. A werewolf in full devour was terrifying as well as gross, and I’d have to work fast because there were a lot of deaders and only one me.
I managed to control myself from praying. Clearly the gods, Yahweh included, were already paying a lot of attention to what was going on, so if they were going to show up with an assist, it wasn’t going to be to prevent my having to chow down on a bunch of icky dead bodies on the hoof.
The earth over one grave heaved and I almost reconsidered that prayer. Jerry the Junkie’s body exited the earth, looking just as lovely as before. It figured that he’d rise first – he wanted to help the Prince’s side, after all.
Jerry lumbered towards the angels. Deaders don’t move too well, as a rule. Worse than zombies or mummies, though a tad faster than Golem. Then again, almost everything was faster than Golem. Slow, ponderous and steady won the Golem race, that was their unlife motto.
I took a deep breath. Tossed in a howl for good measure. Hey, I had an audience. Then, I charged.
Chapter 42
Jerry made eye contact with me as I barreled towards him. “Here girl.” He grinned like he was the first one to toss out that knee-slapper. “Wanna fetch my stick?”
Did the fast thinking thing. There was something wrong about all of this. Not that this was some sort of brilliant revelation. Three top level minions on the human plane hardly spelled out “all’s right with the worlds”. But Jerry looked too happy about the situation. And he’d had dusti
ng explained to him.
I decided to go with my gut. I didn’t bite him. I hit him with all four paws, claws out for full effect. One thing I’d neglected to mention to the others was that deaders could actually feel. So could undeads, of course. But we were unalive, so that made sense. I hoped the others wouldn’t catch on, though Jerry shrieking when I raked his body up, down and sideways might have been a clue.
Jerry was flat on his back and I was off him, doing the impressive turn and skid maneuver. He flailed to his feet, looking much worse for wear. “What the hell are you doing?” he yelled.
“Having fun.” I ran behind him, knocked him onto his face, and did the claw you up thing on his back. Then I jumped up and down. “What’s going on, Jerry?”
“Aaah! Get off me!”
“Not an answer, Jerry. You’re too happy about being raised and potentially dusted. What’s the plan, Jerry?” Jump, claw, jump. I started to enjoy myself.
“Stop! Stop!”
Happily, Jack was a great cop. He trotted over. “Jerry, you know, she’s in a bad mood,” he said soothingly, working the good cop routine to the max. “Vic, please, the poor guy’s just been raised. Again.”
I jumped higher and slammed harder. “Pity for him. I want to know what’s going on.” I landed, clawed some more, then flipped him over, so I could jump on his stomach. “You know what, Jerry?” Jump, claw, jump. “If I don’t actually eat you, you don’t dust.” Jump, claw, scratch face, jump. “You just get to be turned into scraps.” Jump, rake claws down arms, jump. “So, what’s going on?” Jump, jump, jump. Playing bad cop was so much fun, I almost forgot there were bigger issues at hand.
“Help me!” Jerry shouted to Jack.
Jack shrugged. “She’s in that feral thing werewolves get. Where only mayhem will appease them. Or answers.”
I sang quietly under my breath. “Jump up, turn around, claw a bit of deader. Jump up, turn around, scratch him on his face. Jump up, turn around, claw more of the deader. Jump up, jump around, bite him in that place.” It was an interactive song, at least how I was doing it. Except for the last line. I hoped Jerry was going to crack before I had to follow through on that.
“Nice lyric change to Belafonte’s ‘Jump Down, Spin Around’ song.” Jack said. “Didn’t know you liked oldies.”
“I like to improvise, I consider anything by Belafonte to be a classic, not an oldie, thank you, and besides, werewolves are very musically inclined.”
“Really? Interesting.” Jack looked back at Jerry. “You want to answer the lady’s questions now?”
Jerry whimpered. “They don’t want me to.”
I sang louder. “Bite him in that place.” I even added a leer. I’d usually let Jack be bad cop, but not anymore. He was not allowed to have all the fun.
Jack coughed. “I think, Jerry, you need to consider who’s going to cause you more pain and anguish, in both the short and long term.”
Fangs bared, drool dripping, I gave a big growl and looked down at Jerry’s very personal region. As a deader he really had no use for it, but males stayed attached to those parts, whether alive, undead, or in the ground. It was a guy thing, I didn’t try to understand it. I just used it to my advantage when necessary.
“Okay! Okay! Call her off!”
“Give her the answers, maybe she’ll stop.”
“I don’t know all the plan!”
“Share what you do know,” I growled through bared fangs. “Start with why you were hoping I’d try to eat you.”
He didn’t want to answer, that was clear. I put a hind paw onto his personal parts and leaned. With all my weight and muscle. Jerry made a very animalistic sound. As a werewolf I’d heard it a lot – a pathetic whine of pain and terror meant to make you feel sorry and stop.
But werewolves didn’t feel sorry all that often, and never in a situation like this. And cops didn’t feel bad about roughing up a perp to get information to save hundreds or more. I let up a little, then slammed down, even harder.
“Okay! Okay!” Jerry sounded like every other perp ready to crack, which was what I wanted. I let up a little, but the indication that I’d lean right back down again if necessary was clearly there in the way my claws were tapping. Yeah, werewolf claws are like digits, we can move them all we want. One of the many benefits.
“So, tell me what I want to know.” Growled through the teeth with the extra drool, just ‘cause I could. “Why were you okay with getting dusted by me?”
He gulped. “They…put something in my body. If you eat it, it’ll kill you.”
“What, exactly?” Jack didn’t sound like good cop now. He sounded like angry boyfriend. I was good with that.
“Not sure. Something…heavy. It feels heavy.”
“Silver, silver nitrate, something with silver, maybe liquid mercury, some sort of metallic combo that’s deadly. Probably some unholy water, too.” I nudged Jerry. “Okay, so you just get to be torn to shreds. Check. What’s the plan? As much of it as you know, or else. Oh, and you may be a deader, but you’re giving off more scent than death and decay, probably because of what they put in you, so I can smell when you’re lying.”
Jerry’s eyes widened and he looked terrified. Good. Because I couldn’t tell for sure from the smell, just a good guess. “I…I don’t know much.”
I leaned on my hind leg again. “Oh, I’m sure you’re selling yourself short, Jerry.”
“Tell us what we want to know,” Jack said quietly. “Or I’ll bring your parents to see you.”
Interestingly enough, more than anything else, this worked. I saw the expression in Jerry’s eyes change. Not to fear, though, or regret. To amusement tinged with mania. “They’ll be here soon enough.”
“Who’s after your parents?” Jack asked.
“No one.” Jerry giggled. I really loathed this guy. It was a pity only a Golem would be able to dust him now – none of us could ingest him and I was going to ensure he was in myriad pieces which, sadly, made it almost impossible for a spell to work.
“Who’s already with them?”
Jerry gaped at me. Apparently someone able to think still shocked him. “Ahhh….”
I leaned on his private parts and sunk my claws in. Squishy and icky, but oh so effective. “Who’s with them, and who’s with the families and associates of the others who were in the alleyway when Abaddon and Apollyon came through?”
“T-Tomio.”
“But Tomio’s in Hell already, isn’t he, Jerry? I mean, that’s what you told us.”
“I didn’t tell you anything!” His voice was raised and I didn’t get the impression he was talking to me.
Instinct’s a wonderful thing. According to some, instinct was nothing more than the sum total of all your experiences – everything that had ever happened to you, that you’d ever read, seen, heard, felt, or thought – bundled together in a tiny part of your hindbrain. Others said instincts were passed down species by species, to help said species survive, and that most instinctive reactions have no real basis in thought or even the experience of the specific reactor, just that if you were a gazelle and you saw a lion, you were going to run, period.
My personal opinion was that both were true. I had instinctive reactions to things as a werewolf that I’d never have had as a human, and vice versa.
One thing about instinct – I never, ever argued with it. And my instincts told me that Jerry was about to be dusted, but not by my side.
I leaped off him, grabbed Jack, and flung him and myself at Freddy and Sexy Cindy. Uninjured werewolves are strong and I threw the three of them as far as I could. I leaped after them, landed and turned, ready to go knock the angels out of the way.
But there wasn’t time.
Chapter 43
Jerry exploded into dust. One moment I was staring at a ripped up junkie deader. The next there was a layer of rust-colored dust floating over his grave.
On the plus side, the ground stopped moving. On the negative side, the dust swirled up from the
ground. The angels flipped their collective wings out and around themselves. They were protected, but the four of us weren’t. Jerry’s dust could infect us, based on who was likely controlling it.
I had to figure Abaddon and Apollyon were with Jerry’s parents and the others, meaning we were likely dealing with the Adversary. I had to get the others out of here. Well, no time like the present for the learning of new skills.
“Cindy, grab Freddy and Jack and fly out of here.”
“Excuse me?” She sounded like I’d asked her to grow another head.
“You can fly. You haven’t been trained yet, but you can, it’s a succubus trait.” I watched the dust float around the angels. It wasn’t sticking to them, but we weren’t likely to be that lucky. “Grab them and fly away.”
“I can’t.”
I turned and did a full on werewolf growl-snarl-howl combination that said I was going to eat her and anyone else nearby. “DO IT!”
Werewolves can be very scary, and I’d ensured that I’d looked and sounded as much like Queen Bitch as possible. Sexy Cindy gave a little shriek, grabbed the others, and leaped into the air away from me. Her flying left a lot to be desired – she was about a foot off the ground, no more, and wobbling like it was her first time on rollerblades. However, she was carrying the other two and they were getting away, and that’s what mattered.
I turned back to watch Jerry’s dust. It circled the angels, gave up, and headed towards me. Normally when someone got dusted they went into the earth or sea or wherever. It didn’t matter if their motes were floating around, they were rendered null and void. In this case, I knew better.
That the dust was animated meant it was under the Adversary’s control. Due to what had been in Jerry’s body, the dust would be deadly to me. I couldn’t breathe or swallow it, and I had a good guess that letting it land on me wasn’t going to be all fun and frolic either.
I readied myself to jump and dodge, but was interrupted by Freddy dropping down in front of me. “Come on, you dirty little bastard,” he shouted at the dust. “Pathetic mamma’s boy can’t even die right!”