Limbo's Child

by Jonah Hewitt

  Out of the flames emerged ghosts and ghouls in profusion. They came rushing out, shrieking as they went. They were all human in form, but monstrous in appearance. They had glowing eyes but no legs. Their long, ethereal robes just disappeared into trailing wisps of tangled smoke. Some were old women with tattered kimonos, others were young pretty girls with painted faces like geishas. Some were warriors in armor with demon-shaped masks like something out of a samurai movie. There were dozens of them. All had terrible claws and sharp teeth that they gnashed violently whenever they got close to someone, especially the undead.

  They ignored Moríro and went straight for Mordant and began tearing him to pieces, swallowing large chunks of the screaming necromancer’s re-animated body until he was completely gone. They swarmed over the remaining revenant, biting them and rending them apart like vultures or ravenous animals. They took large bites from the moaning corpses, tossing the chunks back whole the way a crocodile might consume the carcass of an animal. The large bites disappeared into their transparent innards burning there like hot coals before disappearing into white-hot smoke. Several raced towards Lucy. She threw up her hands in defense, but they passed right through her and continued on to the corpses, devouring them. They consumed the small horde around the Impala, but once they had scavenged a meal from them, they began harassing Schuyler, nipping him around the edges, perhaps not as violently as they ate the corpses, as if they were testing out the taste of his undead flesh.

  “Hey! Leave me alone! Back off!” Schuyler jumped down off the car roof and tried to avoid them. He tried some of his martial arts moves on them, but they just melted away from his blows. Eventually, he was reduced to swatting at them like horse flies. Moríro got up off the ground and moved quickly to Sky. He grabbed Schuyler’s arm and smeared some of the blood of his knuckle on Schuyler’s wrist and spoke more unintelligible words. Instantly the ghosts’ attitude changed, they approached Sky, sniffed him, gnashed their teeth at him in frustration but ultimately moved on, as if he were now tainted meat.

  Lucy looked around in shock. She couldn’t see him, but Yo-yo had stopped crying. The boy with the shaved head uncovered his head and relaxed his defensive crouch. Moríro had done it! He had saved them!

  Amanda threw off Miles, who landed with a thud and slowly transformed back into human form. The hungry ghosts left him alone as long as he was the dog monster, but the second he turned human, the ghosts snapped at him too, until Moríro rushed over and marked him likewise with the bloody knuckle. Content, or more likely frustrated that Miles was off the menu, they returned to greedily gobble up the remaining pieces of corpse like scavenging dogs eating scraps, but they completely ignored the living, including Amanda, who stood there infuriated, stomping the ground and screaming.

  “MORÍRO!! CURSE YOU!!” she yelled in frustration.

  Moríro, Miles and Schuyler were already triangulating on her position. Even Tim had regained enough courage to emerge from what was left of the Impala. She was spinning around frantically like a trapped dog, but Amanda was still a formidable opponent even alone. Lucy hoped that Moríro had another trick up his sleeve. She looked around. The boy with the shaved head was sitting up breathing heavily but looked otherwise fine. Where was Yo-yo?!! Lucy stood up and searched frantically for him. Yo-yo sat up somewhat dazed, at the far end of the garden near the woods.

  “Yo-yo!” she cried out. Just then Amanda spun around to see Yo-yo as well. Her gaze fixed on him. Right at that moment, the pig-duck thing broke free from the brush where Amanda had flung him. It too focused directly on Yo-yo, hissing and spitting. All the spines on its back stood erect and it gave out a horrendous bellow worse than the shrieking ghosts. Lucy had to cover her ears. When she looked up, it was already charging on Yo-yo. He looked desperately between Lucy and Amanda, who was narrowing her eyes menacingly at him. Amanda turned into a bonfire of grey light and swirling black hair. The force of the transformation pushed the three boys and Moríro back momentarily. She chose the easiest avenue of escape and turned on Tim, passing right through him like an icy cloud. Tim began shaking like he had had a seizure and bent over double. The phantom Amanda flew first high into the air and then plunged to the ground and circled back towards the garden with incredible speed. She was heading straight for Yo-yo.

  “NO!” Lucy screamed. She ran for Yo-yo who was fixed to the ground in fear. With the pig-duck monster clawing his way toward him from behind and the long-haired witch phantom approaching from the front, he had nowhere to go.

  Lucy ran as fast as she could. She was just feet away from Yo-yo, with Moríro and the boys not far behind, but it was too late. Amanda’s phantom form, with all the long hair flying like black fire, completely engulfed the boy.

  “LUUUUCY!!!” Yo-yo’s hand stretched out behind reaching for Lucy’s hand, but the phantom Amanda had already gripped him around his middle in a ghostly embrace. Lucy just managed to barely touch Yo-yo’s outstretched fingertips before Amanda pulled him away.

  “NO!” Lucy screamed, but it was too late. Amanda had flown for the cover of the nearby woods, Yo-yo grasped tightly under one arm. Lucy got one last look at Yo-yo’s impassive, glassy stare and then, he was gone.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The Note

  “Man, this thing is in fabulous shape. Sure, the body is bit rusty, but everything is original. Even the chrome. I’m more of a Chevy guy myself, but the ‘46 Ford is a classic.”

  Tim lifted up the hood of the old truck to inspect the engine compartment. “Look at that! Original headers. It’s near perfect. Wow. Most of these got chopped down into low riders or hot rods years ago. I tell you, this thing couldn’t have had more than three owners in its lifetime.”

  “One.”

  The voice was quiet but penetrating. It came form the tall man in the olive army overcoat, fatigues and combat boots. He had his back to Miles, Tim, and Nephys. He didn’t turn around. He was standing over the form of a thirteen-year old girl in a ragged hospital bathrobe and dirty purple princess kitten pajamas. She was on her knees, holding herself tightly, rocking and sobbing.

  Miles nudged Tim hard in the ribs.

  “Oh.” Tim lowered the hood carefully and they all got silent. The shrill, piercing voices of the Japanese ghosts were still whirling overhead and around the edges of the farm. They were far fainter than they had been during the battle, but Nephys was still looking on cautiously from where he was hiding in the back of the pick-up. The ghosts’ long kimonos and robes trailed out behind them into wisps of smoke and light, and the light in the stone lantern burned blue-white and pulsated with every screech. Mostly satiated, the ghosts seemed to be content to patrol the edges of the farm, but every once in a while, the ghosts dropped like vultures feeding lazily on road kill. Below them lay the remains of the battle – the fragmented pieces of Amanda’s recently animated henchmen lay strewn around the yard, but Amanda was gone, and she had taken the strange boy with the cap and yo-yo with her. The only other sound other than the ghosts’ shrill moaning and Lucy’s low sobbing, was the sound of Hiero, the demonic bagpipe, destroying what was left of Maggie Miller’s zinnias.

  A familiar voice came from behind the three of them. “Well the ambulance is still there, but the beamer we passed parked on the side of the road is long gone.” Schuyler was walking back from the driveway, shirtless; the tattered remnants of his once-glorious blazer slung over one shoulder. “So you found a new girlfriend already?” he asked Tim, who was inspecting the Ford’s undercarriage.

  “Don’t tease,” Tim said quietly, standing up.

  For once, Sky said nothing smart or sarcastic. He just went and put an arm around Tim’s shoulders and walked him back to the Impala. They stared in silence for a while, the two of them, at the once proud vehicle with its dented fenders, broken trunk, smashed windows and slashed vinyl top.

  “I had just gotten her the way I like her. I had even gotten the red, white and blue pin striping done,” Tim said in a melancholy voice, hands
in pockets. After a few seconds he added, “She still runs. I bet I can get her back…back to where she was…ya’think?” He looked back at Sky expectantly, like a whipped puppy. Sky just squeezed his shoulder once. Then Sky took the silk blazer from off his shoulder, held it before him and inspected it: its seams were ripped out, the cuffs torn and ragged, the tails shredded. Then he folded the blazer gently and laid it on the hood of the Impala with great ceremony and solemnity. Miles wasn’t sure why, but that seemed to really touch Tim. It was as if Sky was saying, “At least they went out in a blaze of glory.” For a moment Miles thought Tim was going to start crying and the two were going to hug, but Sky just thumped Tim hard once on the back and walked over to Miles who was leaning on the pickup.

  “Dude! That was some battle eh?! That dog monster thing of yours…totally epic.” Sky nearly pounced on Miles’ shoulders and gave them a good hard rub before letting go. It hurt, but somehow this show of affirmation from Sky was even more jarring. It didn’t come without a passive aggressive qualifier though. “You nearly had that old witch a couple of times,” Sky said casually as he took his lollipop case out of his back pocket and began sorting through them. Most were broken.

  “Nearly,” Miles grumbled.

  “I haven’t been in a fight that big in a long time. Really gets the blood pumping! So to speak, y’know, if we actually had blood.” Sky tossed one broken plastic lollipop aside after the other, until he got to nearly the last one. “No. No. No. AHA! Blood-red black cherry. Perfect.” He put it in his mouth in the usual theatrical fashion. “Were you around Rivenden back in ’96 when those Italian vampires tried to muscle in?” Sky asked Miles somewhat nostalgic.

  “Nah,” Miles said simply. He didn’t feel the need to elaborate that Wallach wouldn’t let him hang around Rivenden to wash the toilets much less help fight off intruders, not that vampires used toilets anyway.

  “Man, that was a big fight. I was just about to get some serious action and prove myself to Wallach when Ulami and Forzgrim jumped in and turned them to dog food. Over before it got started, really.” Sky did a back flip and landed light as a feather on the hood of the Ford, where he took up a casual lounging position with his back against the windshield – one hand behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles. “Dirty, rotten, brown-nosing, suck-ups,” he muttered under his breath.

  Tim finally pulled himself away from the Impala and ambled over to join them leaning against the Ford. He gave them the “Wassup bro?” chin jab that every guy seemed to know these days and then stood quietly. They all silently took in the strange tableau before them: Necromancer, crying girl, rampaging bagpipe.

  Finally, Miles broke the tension. “Blimey. So that’s him is it?” Miles whispered to Tim.

  “Yep. That’s him. Lazlo Moríro. He’s the guy that brought Hokharty and Graber back to life,” Tim said simply. “He’s the one that started this whole mess. I wish to heck I hadn’t agreed to take overtime last night, that’s for sure.”

  “That’s Hokharty’s master?” Sky said incredulously, “That’s the guy I’ve been hearing so much about? That old dude? Really?” Sky derisively pointed the black-cherry lollipop at the man in the olive coat. “Hmmph. I was expecting the Necromancer to be a little more…I dunno…impressive.”

  Miles shot Sky a weird look. “More impressive?!” thought Miles. This “old dude” just took out another necromancer and a ton of zombies with a horde of flesh-eating ghosts he summoned with his own blood! What more did Sky want?! Miles figured he probably just didn’t approve of Moríro’s sense of fashion.

  “So…that’s the Necromancer?” came a shy, puzzled voice from the bed of the pickup truck where the owner of the voice was still crouching.

  “You still with us, baldy?” Sky said back to Nephys, “Wasn’t sure if you made it or not.” Sky winked at Miles, but Nephys didn’t reply.

  “I mean, that’s the Necromancer, right?” Nephys asked again, insistent.

  “Yep,” Tim replied.

  “And that’s Lucy Miller, right?” Nephys pointed to the sobbing girl in purple princess kitten pajamas.

  “Hey, I think the kid is finally catching on,” Sky said sarcastically.

  There was a pause before Nephys spoke again, this time very cautiously, “So, why are they both here together?”

  They all looked back at Nephys, bewildered.

  “Are you kidding me?” Sky said at last, “I thought you said you had a note from her mother.”

  “Well…” Nephys began nervously, “That was just sort of a side trip, I was really sent here by the Chamberlain to give something to the Necromancer.”

  They all looked at him again. “A side trip?” Sky said laughing, “What, do people moonlight in the afterlife?”

  “It’s just…I never expected to find them together, that’s all,” Nephys said nervously.

  Miles looked directly at Nephys. What did the kid know that he didn’t? For his part, Nephys settled in to listen to what was about to unfold between the Necromancer and Lucy.

  Lucy was mumbling something through her tears, “I…I told him…I told him I would protect him.”

  Miles took a step forward, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do, maybe just put a hand on her shoulder or something, anything to comfort her, but Sky gave him a subtle shake of the head and twisted the lollipop between his fingers contemplatively. Perhaps he was right this time. She probably didn’t want any comfort from one of the vampires that had tried to kidnap her. Besides, the man who had started their whole adventure, the Necromancer, was right there. Perhaps he would say something comforting, but Miles obviously didn’t know him very well.

  “I should’ve never left him…I should have never brought him here.” Lucy was blaming herself.

  “Get up,” the Necromancer said simply. Lucy continued sobbing.

  The Necromancer took a step closer to her and folded his hands behind his back like a drill sergeant.

  “Get up!” he said forcefully this time, but Lucy just kept on crying.

  “GET UP!” he commanded her this time without the slightest trace of remorse or empathy.

  “What?” Lucy said weakly. Lucy looked up at him confused and dazed, but he just glowered down at her.

  “I said, GET UP.” He leaned over and yanked her up roughly. “Tears are worthless.”

  “What?” Lucy was too shocked by his insensitivity to be as angry as she ought to be.

  Miles jumped up. The poor girl had been through enough. Tim and Nephys were right behind him, even Hiero gave a hoot of protest, but Sky slipped off the hood of the truck and jumped ahead of them with his lightning quick reflexes.

  “Leave it alone, dudes. Trust me on this one.” All of them stopped but Miles craned his neck to see what the Necromancer would do next.

  “Tears are worthless. It’s your blood we need,” the Necromancer said simply before dragging her towards the stone lantern.

  “Blood?! What is the matter with you?!” Lucy protested at the rough treatment. She shook off Moríro’s grip, but she noticed that she had stopped crying.

  “Good,” Moríro said, satisfied she had stopped sobbing, flatly ignoring what she had actually said. “Now follow me.” He turned and walked the short distance to the end of the garden towards the large Japanese stone lantern.

  Lucy looked dejectedly down at the princess kitties. Every one of the kittens with goggling eyes seemed to be mocking her. She stood shell-shocked for a minute or so, but eventually, she willed her feet forward. The boys followed close by – they made sure to keep a safe distance, but she resented that they were there, looking at her. They probably enjoyed a good show, the blood-sucking creeps. She also hated that that freak-show hooting monster was digging in her mother’s flowers, but at least it wasn’t bothering her anymore. Lucy slowly walked down to the far end of the garden. The Necromancer was standing there beside the stone lantern, already waiting for her, illuminated by its eerie, blue-white glow. The swirling, shrieking ghosts that had saved t
hem from the revenant not twenty minutes ago were floating menacingly nearby, making low circles around the lantern and the Necromancer’s head.

  Lucy took her time getting there. If he was impatient he didn’t show it. He showed nothing more than a slight disdain for her and the whole situation.

  Lucy arrived at the lantern and looked anxiously about at the snarling ghosts wafting overhead. They gnashed a bit whenever they got close to the vampires, but she noticed they ignored her, Tim and Moríro entirely, and strangely, even the odd boy with the shaved head and the pig-duck thing. They obviously had a taste for dead flesh, but Moríro’s blood must be protecting the vampires somehow. She wondered if her blood could do the same. Those that weren’t gathering over the lantern hovered over the fallen corpses like ravenous flies, devouring the remaining scraps.

  “What are they?” Lucy said in wonder and horror. They were obviously incorporeal but they seemed able to digest physical meat well enough. She had never imagined that there were so many different varieties of dead things.

  “We must put the hungry ghosts away,” Moríro said urgently, ignoring her inquiry. “They can become unpredictable if left out too long.” The Necromancer raised an eyebrow as a particularly loathsome one, a corpulent sumo wrestler with dead, white eyes floated by.

  “Hungry ghosts?” Lucy said, puzzled.

  “The jikininki,” he said tonelessly.

  “But what are they?”

  “Condemned souls, forced to eat coprses. Especially useful when fighting the undead. More effective on some varieties than others.” He took an odd look at Miles.

  Lucy looked around at the strange ghouls in near total confusion. “But…how…did they…”

  “Enough,” Moríro said impatiently. “Bite your knuckle!” he ordered suddenly.