“Aim for their heads,” I said. “Just like in the movies and on TV.” I stepped into the road where zombie in a voluminous golden gown was shambling toward a petrified mother holding her baby and shrinking back against the window of a clothing store. An abandoned stroller stood on the sidewalk a few feet away. The poor woman had probably just been taking her baby on a pleasant evening walk when she’d been confronted with the chaos that Main Street had become.
I sliced the head off the zombie and shouted to the woman, “You need to get home and lock all your doors and windows. Now.”
She nodded, clutching the baby tightly. “I will. Thank you.”
I turned back to the main group of undead. Shotgun blasts rang in the air as Michael and Leon opened fire. A couple of the zombies fell but still more continued to shamble toward the people fleeing along the street. Polidori moved with blinding speed and ripped off the heads of a half dozen of the walking dead.
Along with the sound of shotgun blasts, screams, and shouts, another sound filled the air: the strident wail of police sirens. Two police cruisers arrived, skidding to a stop outside Dearmont Donuts. Sheriff Cantrell got out of the lead car, his daughter Amy out of the other. They had their guns drawn and the sheriff shouted something I couldn’t quite hear at the shambling horde of zombies.
What the hell was he doing? Trying to arrest them?
I sprinted along the sidewalk toward him. “That’s not going to work,” I said. “They won’t come peacefully.”
Amy seemed to have realized that fact and fired her handgun at a zombie Union soldier who had been lurching toward her car until her shot penetrated its skull and it dropped like a sack of moldy potatoes.
Sheriff Cantrell turned to me with anger burning in his eyes. “You! I should have realized this would be connected to you, Harbinger. Drop that weapon and turn around. You’re under arrest.”
“If you arrest me, this problem is only going to get worse,” I said. “I’m the only one who can stop this craziness.”
Speaking of stopping the craziness, where the hell was Mallory with the box? I hoped she hadn’t run into any zombies on her way back here from the edge of town.
“I said drop the sword and turn around,” Cantrell said, reaching for his cuffs.
“Dad,” Amy said, “shouldn’t we let Alec sort this mess out? God knows it’s beyond our pay grade.”
“You stay out of this, Amy. You know what these people are like with their preternatural bullshit. Your mother would be alive today if it wasn’t for one of these investigators.” He spat out the final word distastefully.
When he mentioned Amy’s mother, I looked toward the zombies, expecting to see Mary Cantrell lumbering around among the other animated dead. But the zombies were all dressed in much older fashions than the red dress Mary Cantrell had been buried in.
I knew where DuMont was.
“Dad,” Amy said, letting off another shot and dropping another zombie, “we don’t have time for this.” She pointed down Main Street where a second horde of zombies was approaching.
The sheriff looked at me with disdain, but then said, “Fine. I’ll deal with you later.” He moved his considerable bulk to the middle of the street and began firing into the mass of dead bodies walking toward us.
I looked at Amy. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. But you have to stop this, Alec. If you know what to do, please do it now.”
“I know what do,” I said.
I went over to where Polidori was standing a few feet away. He’d obviously been listening to my conversation with Amy.
“Yes, you know what to do,” he said.
I called Mallory. As soon as she answered the call, I said, “Meet me at the South Cemetery.”
“Okay.” I could hear the engine of her Jeep in the background, revving hard as she sped back to town.
“And be careful. There are zombies everywhere and probably a lot more at the cemetery.” I ended the call and said to Polidori, “Come on. I know where DuMont is. The cemetery manager told me that the South Cemetery is full of graves and has been for a hundred years. Judging by the clothing on these things, that’s where they came from. That’s where we’ll find DuMont.”
Leon was standing next to Michael and happily blasting away at the zombies coming up the road. I clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m going to try and cut this off at the source. You okay here?”
“Yeah, man, no problem at all. We’ll see you later.”
Polidori and I ran over to the Land Rover and got in. I gunned the engine and backed out of the parking space before racing toward Main Street. To get to the South Cemetery, I was going to have to go through the horde of zombies on the road, and I intended to do just that: go through them.
I turned south on Main Street and accelerated toward the mass of skeletons ahead. Polidori braced himself for impact and I did the same, gripping the wheel tightly as we plowed into the animated dead.
Bones cracked and splintered against the hood and crunched beneath the tires as the Land Rover cut a swath through the shambling horde. When we made it through to the other side and were clear of the zombies, Polidori looked through the back window and nodded. “Quite impressive.”
Shots rang out as Leon, Michael, the sheriff, and Amy began firing at the walking skeletons that had survived the Land Rover onslaught.
I drove toward the South Cemetery, ready to gun the engine again if we met another wave of the risen dead. We didn’t. When we got to the cemetery, I crashed through the iron gates and into the graveyard.
Dennis Jackson, the cemetery manager, needed to get his crew down here to maintain the grounds better, because the South Cemetery was overgrown with weeds and long grass, as well as ivy that clung to the mausoleums and gravestones. The trees were also untended and overgrown, making it seem like nature was attempting to reclaim this resting place of the long-forgotten dead.
“Look there,” Polidori said, pointing through the windshield at a purple glow emanating beyond the trees.
We got out of the Land Rover and I started for the trees.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Polidori asked. “We should wait for your friend and the Box of Midnight. That’s the only way we’re going to stop DuMont.”
“I came here to face him,” I said, marching toward the trees with my sword in hand. Polidori might think that I should just destroy the box immediately, but I wanted to explore other options, for obvious reasons. If I could stop DuMont without having to resort to cursing myself, all the better. At least it would buy me some time, during which I could maybe find a way to defeat Rekhmire.
Polidori followed me into the trees. The cemetery was dark, lit only by the purple glow ahead and the blue energy emanating from my sword.
We emerged from the trees into a large open area where gravestones and tombs jutted up from the long grass like uneven teeth. Every grave looked as if it had burst open and standing next to each tombstone was a zombie. They were dressed in the fashions of a hundred years ago or more, each one standing still as if awaiting orders. The air smelled of freshly-turned dirt and moldy cloth.
The man who was surely going to give those orders stood on top of a gray stone mausoleum, the Staff of Midnight held aloft in his hand, the purple glow pulsing from it in waves of power that spread over the cemetery.
DuMont was dressed in a dark suit and tie, as if he had just stepped out of a board meeting. His black hair waved wildly as if it were caught by a strong wind even though the night was calm.
He looked at me and a sneer crossed his lips. “Harbinger, I knew you would come. It has been prophesied that we are to meet here tonight.”
“Then you also know what else has been prophesied,” I said. “If I destroy the heart of the sorceress, that staff of yours dies, along with this army of zombies.” I indicated the undead who stood by their graves, eerily silent but also seeming to be watching us.
“Not every prophecy comes true,” he said. “For too long, I have
been afraid of facing you because of the utterings of a few witches. But I serve a power that is far greater than you and all those witches combined. I have nothing to fear. Kill him, my children.” He swept the staff around himself and then pointed its tip at me.
The zombies lurched into action, stepping forward, arms outstretched as they reached for me.
I sighed. “I’ve already killed a load of these guys in town, DuMont. Are you going to make me kill more of them?” From what I’d see so far, the animated skeletons were pretty easy to destroy.
He grinned. “Those were weak, raised when the staff was barely beginning to gather its power. With each second, the power grows. These undead are much stronger than the ones I raised earlier.”
I took a swing at the zombie closest to me, a skeleton dressed in a tattered black suit. As my blade was about to reach the neck and sever it, the zombie dodged the attack. It grabbed my throat in a tight, bony grip and began to choke the life out of me.
I looked over at Polidori. He was having troubles of his own, trying to fend off a half dozen zombies that had rushed him. These undead were definitely faster than the ones in town.
I lashed out with my boot and connected with the ribs of the skeleton who was trying to strangle me. Its grip loosened slightly and I thrust the sword up into its shoulder, cutting off the arm that had me in its grip. The skeleton tried again with the other arm but I didn’t underestimate it this time. I chopped off its head with a swift blow. The body fell to the ground with a rattle of bones.
I positioned my body in a defensive stance, waiting to see which of the advancing zombies was going to attack next. The problem was, there were hundreds of the damned things, and still more crawling out of graves and busting their way out of the mausoleums.
Polidori had dispatched his attackers and backed up to where I was standing. “There are too many of them,” he said. “We won’t win this.”
Dumont laughed. “You might as well lie down and die now, Harbinger. This graveyard is only the beginning. Can you feel the power growing? It calls to them. It calls them from the grave. Soon the dead shall rise across all the Earth.”
I could feel the staff’s power intensifying. The purple glow now lit the entire cemetery and there was a crackling energy in the air that I hadn’t noticed before, and it was growing in strength by the second. If I had the Box of Midnight here right now, I would destroy it without a second thought. The kind of energy that was flying around the cemetery was too dangerous to let anyone wield, much less a man like DuMont, who wanted to help his master bring about an apocalypse.
Beyond the trees, I heard the screech of tires and a car door slamming. A few seconds later, Mallory appeared, holding the Box of Midnight at arms’ length. The box had changed. It had opened like a flower and at its center I could see a pulsing heart, the heart of the ancient sorceress, Tia. Each beat of the heart emitted a wave of purple energy that spread into the air to intensify the energy already there. It fed the power that DuMont controlled.
DuMont himself had become imbued with the power of the sorceress’s heart. His eyes glowed the same purple as the air around him and sparks of power ran from the Staff of Midnight along his arm and into his chest.
I needed to get to the box, to destroy its power, but there were fifty or sixty undead in my way. I cried out and lunged forward, hacking and slashing at them in an attempt to reach the box before DuMont absorbed so much power that he was unbeatable. Polidori joined me, lashing at the zombies with his clawed hands, pulling them to pieces.
But for every monster we killed, another two took its place until the skeletons stood between us and the box like an impenetrable wall of bone and malevolence.
I saw Mallory place the box on the ground. She reached down to her belt and unsheathed the enchanted dagger I’d given her earlier. Kneeling next to the box, she looked down at the beating sorceress’s heart and raised the dagger above her head, its blue glow highlighting the grim determination on her face.
“Mallory, no!” I shouted. I began attacking the zombies wildly, desperate to reach Mallory before she brought the dagger down.
But even as my cry was still ringing in the air, Mallory plunged the dagger into the heart of the sorceress.
The heart exploded in a blast of scarlet light that made it appear for a moment that Mallory were covered in blood. But the light faded as it was absorbed into Mallory’s body. She looked at me with frightened eyes before falling heavily to the ground.
“No!” I cried out. I felt hot, stinging tears spill from my eyes as I lashed out at the monsters around me. Pieces of shattered bone flew everywhere as I hacked a path toward Mallory. The zombies were weaker now, the purple glow in the air dissipating.
I got to the trees, leaving Polidori to deal with the undead. The Box of Midnight had been blackened by the energy of the scarlet explosion. The heart at its center was black and dead and unmoving, its pulse gone.
“Mallory,” I said, reaching down to check her neck for a pulse. I found one, but it was weak and uneven, like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings.
I stood and turned to face DuMont. He was still standing atop the mausoleum, the staff in his hand dead, but with the power in his body still glowing out through his eyes. His face was contorted into a grimace of anger.
The zombies had all fallen to the ground, the power that had once animated them gone.
“She ruined it,” DuMont snarled. “She ruined the Box of Midnight. Never mind a year to live; I’m going to kill her myself, now.” He floated down to the ground and stalked toward us.
Polidori rushed to stop him but DuMont waved his hand and the vampire was thrown across the cemetery. I didn’t see where he landed; I couldn’t focus on anything except DuMont and cold ball of rage building within me.
I would not let him kill Mallory.
The cold ball of rage felt like something tangible in my body, rising from my chest and shooting along my arms to my hands. I dropped the sword to the ground. Its blue light extinguished as soon I released the hilt but there was another glow now, a deep blue light emanating from my hands. It formed itself into simple shapes that then resolved themselves into complex magical circles.
DuMont stopped in his tracks. His eyes, which still glowed purple, went wide with surprise. “No, it can’t be.”
I looked at him, feeling my anger compress itself into the glowing magical circles that had formed around my hands. The energy was building itself up to a critical mass. “Don’t ever think you can hurt my friends,” I whispered to him.
I drew my arms back slightly, then thrust them forward, releasing the magical energy from my hands. It shot forward and hit DuMont, exploding into a shower of bright blue sparks. He was thrown back against a mausoleum. I heard bones break as his body was slammed into the stone. He slid to the ground and lay, unmoving. Blood trickled from his mouth and ears. There was no doubt that he was dead.
I looked down at my hands, which had returned to normal, and wondered what the hell had just happened.
Chapter 20
By the time I got home, a light rain had begun to fall. I’d left my Land Rover at the cemetery and driven back in Mallory’s Jeep, with her lying on the back seat. When I got to my house, I picked her up and carried her inside, laying her gently on the sofa and going into the kitchen to make coffee. She was shivering slightly, so a hot drink would help warm her up.
Outside, the rain began to pour down, hitting the kitchen window hard and sliding down the glass in wet smears. When the coffee was done, I took it into the living room and set it on the table by the sofa. Mallory stirred and opened her eyes.
“Hey,” I said.
She smiled. “Hey.” Sitting up, she looked around the room. “How did I get back here?”
“I brought you home. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Stabbing that damn heart. After that, nothing, until I woke up just now.”
“How do you feel?” I asked, passing her the coffee.
/> She took a moment to consider that. “I feel … different. Like there’s something inside me that wasn’t there before. I don’t know, I can’t explain it.”
“When you stabbed the sorceress’s heart, you absorbed … something. It was a red glow that came out of the heart and went into your body.”
“Yeah, it’s called a curse.”
I looked at her seriously. “I wish you hadn’t done it, Mallory.”
“Yeah, but if I hadn’t, we’d be living in a world full of zombies right now.”
“True, but it wasn’t your responsibility.”
She looked at me incredulously. “But it was yours?”
“It comes with the job.”
She shrugged. “Well, it’s too late to argue about that now. What’s done is done.”
“And cannot be undone,” I said flatly.
“Don’t say that, Alec. I’m relying on you to get me out of this mess.”
“You really think I can do that?”
She smiled but her eyes looked sad. “Yeah, I do. It’s your responsibility. It comes with the job, remember?”
“Mallory, I don’t think I can do that. The curse is….”
She put a finger against my lips. “Don’t say it. I know the curse is ancient and powerful, but even as I sank the dagger into that heart, I trusted that you would find a way for me to beat this. If anyone in the world can, it’s you.”
“I’ll try,” I said. “I’ll do everything I can.”
“I know you will.” She stroked my cheek and stood up. “But, just in case you can’t, and I only have twelve months to live, I have to go.”
“What? Go where?”
“I have to find Mister Scary. That’s more important to me now more than ever. I only have a year to find him.”
“But you don’t have to go right now.” I went to her and put my hands on her shoulders. “Stay tonight at least. Maybe in the morning….”
Buried Memory (Harbinger P.I. Book 2) Page 15