by John Whitman
holes in their skulls.
"Mom," he whispered. "Dad. I'm sorry..."
"Come with us, Zak," his father moaned. "Zak, come with us." The horrible
image of his father bent close to him, whispering, "Come with us!"
Zak woke with a start. The image of his dead parents vanished. "It was a
dream," he said quickly to himself. His window wasn't broken. There was
nothing there. "It was only a dream."
Crash! Zak almost screamed as something banged against his window again.
CHAPTER 4
Zak waited. There were no more crashes.
He finally took a deep breath, and trying to be brave, went over to the
transparisteel window and peeked out. There were no monsters or zombies
outside. Instead, Zak saw Kairn and a group of boys getting ready to hurl some
more stones at his window.
Finally letting his breath out, Zak pressed a button and the automatic
window unsealed, letting in the cool night air. He leaned out.
Kairn waved and laughed when he saw Zak. "Sorry about that. I figured
you'd want to come with us."
"Where?" Zak asked.
"Some friends and I are having a little midnight adventure. Into the
graveyard," Kairn said. "Care to join us`? Unless, of course, you're too
scared?"
Zak couldn't resist a taunt like that. "Wait there. I'm right behind you.
"
Throwing on some clothes, Zak tiptoed out of his room. He went quietly
past the rooms of Tash and Uncle Hoole. At the end of the hall, he froze.
There was Deevee, sitting in a chair at the top of the stairs.
"The bionic baby-sitter," Zak muttered. "Looks like this will be one
short trip."
But as he crept closer, Zak realized that Deevee had shut himself down
for the night. He would not power up unless someone came in range of his
sensor field, activating his systems. The field only reached a half meter out
from the droid's metal body, but Zak still had no desire to get caught by the
sarcastic droid while trying to sneak out.
Better not risk it, he thought. There was always the window.
Zak's room was two levels up from the ground, but the building was
covered in elaborate, ghoulish carvings. He started down, using the heads,
arms, and claws of the carved monsters as a weird ladder. He stuck his hand
into the roaring jaw of a six-legged beast and quietly called down to Kairn,
"What are these carvings?"
"Just more legends," Kairn said, holding out his arms, ready to catch
Zak. "The statues are supposed to frighten away evil spirits. If you ask me,
they make better handholds."
On the ground, Kairn introduced Zak to a small group of Necropolitans,
all about his age.
"So this is the offworlder that shoved you, huh?" one of them said to
Kairn. "He doesn't look so brave to me."
"Yeah," teased another. "I bet he's an easy scare."
Zak was annoyed. "Are you joking? After the last planet I was on, this
place is like a vacation."
"That's just what we wanted to hear!" said Kairn. He lowered his voice to
a conspiratorial whisper. "But before you can join our group, there's a little
test you have to pass."
"Yeah, we're particular about who joins our group," said another.
"Most people in Necropolis say they don't believe the old legends, but
they're still scared of their own shadows," Kairn continued. "At the landing
pad you proved you were a little brave, but we need to make sure."
Zak scowled. "What kind of test?"
"Come on, we'll show you."
Kairn led the group of Necropolitan boys down the winding streets of the
dark city. Zak followed eagerly. He was on a new planet, walking through a
gloomy, alien city in the middle of the night with a group of boys he had only
just met, but he felt at home for the first time in months.
Zak had lost all his friends when Alderaan was destroyed. Uncle Hoole
hardly talked to him. Deevee was all right, but he wasn't the kind of friend
who would help you climb out of your bedroom window in the middle of the
night. Tash, Zak had to admit, could be a good friend sometimes, but she was
his sister-so, in his book, she didn't really count.
But these boys, especially Kairn, reminded Zak of his own group. back on
Alderaan. They had never caused any real trouble, of course, but they had
their share of fun. Once, Zak and some of his friends had snuck into the
teachers' washroom at their school and replaced the mirror with a hologram
screen programmed to reflect anyone's image exactly-only twenty kilos heavier.
Snack sales at the instructors' cantina had plummeted until the prank was
discovered.
Now, for the first time in half a year, Zak felt like he had a chance to
have some real fun. He decided instantly that he was going to make the most of
it. By the time they reached their destination, Zak was laughing and joking
with Kairn like they were old friends.
"This is it," Kairn said as they stopped in front of a huge, black
wrought-iron gate.
Zak couldn't see beyond the thick mist of Necropolis. "What is it?"
One of the other boys said ominously, "It's the cemetery."
"The boneyard," Kairn added.
"Sacred ground!" said another in his best imitation of Pylum. They all
laughed.
But Zak was too awestruck to smile. The cemetery was enormous. Beyond the
black gates, row upon row of gravestones stretched on forever into the
darkness.
"It's huge," he whispered.
"That's the true Necropolis," Kairn said. "The city of the dead."
"It's the most popular place in town," one of the others joked. "Everyone
goes there. Eventually."
Zak asked, "You mean everyone's buried here? It must be crowded."
"I suppose, but so far no one's complained," Kairn said, laughing.
"Here's the challenge. You have to go into the graveyard in the dead of night
and stand on a grave in the middle of the cemetery."
"Go in there?" Zak asked hoarsely. He peered through the gate, imagining
the rows of dead stacked just below the ground.
"Sure," Kairn said. "What have you got to lose?"
"His nerve," one of the others teased.
Zak considered. "If I accepted, what else would I have to do?"
Kairn grinned. "Not much. Just get to the middle of the cemetery and
back."
Zak peered through the iron gates. The mist made it hard to see. Through
the drifting clouds of gray fog, he could just barely make out the first line
of headstones in the darkness.
"Maybe he's too scared after all," said one of the boys.
"I'm not scared," Zak insisted.
The mist is so thick, he thought, that they'll hardly be able to see me
ten meters beyond the gate. How will they know how far I've gone?
"It's a bet," he said with a gleam in his eye.
"Good." Kairn said. "All you have to do is go in and follow any path.
They all lead to the center of the graveyard, where you'll see a large tomb.
That's the Crypt of the Ancients. According to legend, that's where they
buried Sycorax and her son. Pick any of the graves around the crypt, stand
right on top of it, and then come back."
The wrought-iron
gate was locked. Zak watched in amazement as one of
Kairn's smallest friends managed to squeeze through the bars of the gate. He
went to a control panel on the inside wall and pressed some buttons. The gates
swung open with a mournful squeal. Zak was about to step in when his new
friend stopped him.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Kairn said with a grin. "You'll need this."
He handed Zak a small dagger. "What for?"
"You have to stick it in the ground in the middle of a grave near the
Crypt of the Ancients. Tomorrow morning we'll go and see if it's there. For
proof."
So much for his plan. Zak shivered.
"He looks scared!" someone teased.
"Just cold," Zak lied.
"Here, take this." Kairn gave Zak his thick cloak. "And you'll need this,
too." He handed Zak a tiny glowrod to use for light.
Zak wrapped the heavy cloak around his shoulders and took a step into the
graveyard, holding the glowrod in front of him. Its light barely penetrated
the rolling mist. Row after row of tombstones vanished into the darkness
before him. He took a few more steps. The headstones looked like a miniature
city. A city of the dead.
"Good luck!" Kairn whispered behind him. "Oh, and watch out for the
boneworms."
"Boneworms?" Zak hissed. "What are boneworms?"
"Nothing, really," Kairn chuckled. "Just wriggling creatures that come
out of the ground. They'll suck the marrow from your bones if you stay still
too long!
The iron gate slammed shut behind Zak.
CHAPTER 5
Zak looked around. He stood at the edge of the graveyard, which stretched
out before him into the misty dark. Winding among the headstones, Zak saw
several flagstone paths.
"The paths of the dead," Zak said to himself.
He stopped to look at the nearest grave marker. There were words carved
on it in a language he couldn't read, but Zak could guess what it said. He
whispered, "Here lies someone's loving mother, laid to rest by her adoring
family."
Zak bit his lip. His parents had never been laid to rest.
Maybe that's why they were haunting him. Maybe that's why his parents had
visited him twice in his dreams. He was sure they would visit him again.
Were they angry at him because he wasn't with them when they died?
Because he and Tash hadn't given them a proper burial? That's what the
Necropolitans believed.
But how could we? he thought. The whole planet was destroyed.
Zak's brain knew that, but his heart didn't. His heart was full of guilt
because he had not been able to give his parents a funeral. He hadn't had a
chance to say goodbye.
The Necropolitans are right, he thought. If you don't give the dead their
respect, they do come back to haunt you.
A muffled crunching noise made Zak jump. He looked around but saw nothing
in the dark. He shivered, and stopped to pull the heavy cloak tight around his
shoulders. He had to get this over with and stop thinking about such creepy
things.
Zak wasn't a thinker like Tash was. She read everything she could get her
hands on, especially about the mysterious Jedi Knights. She talked about
philosophy and even believed in a mystical power called the Force. Zak
preferred to think with his hands, and was a born tinkerer. He would take
apart a repulsor lift just to see if he could put it together again. When he
wasn't building things, he was pulling daredevil stunts in the hologym or on
his skimboard.
Maybe the stunts are getting a little out of hand, he thought, looking
around the deserted cemetery.
The crunching sound came from directly beneath his feet.
Zak jumped almost a meter into the air. He looked down just in time to
see a gleaming slimy white shape wriggle into the ground right where he had
been standing.
Boneworms.
He remembered Kairn's warning and decided not to stand in one place for
too long.
As he continued along the path, Zak admitted to himself what he had
hinted to Tash. He had been skeptical of Tash and her all-powerful "Force,"
but he wanted to believe in the powers of the witch of Necropolis, and he
hoped the Necropolitans were right. Then maybe his mother and father could
come back. And then he'd be able to see them and say goodbye.
That was the real reason Zak had come to the graveyard.
Despite the cobblestone path, Zak soon found himself lost in a maze of
tombs and graves. The cemetery seemed to go on forever. Now and then Zak
thought of turning back, but he didn't want to face the teasing his new
friends would give him, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to rest until he
had at least tried the thing he was planning.
He walked for what seemed like an hour. But with all the twists and
turns, he doubted that he was more than half a kilometer from the iron gates.
Just as he was about to give up, he turned yet another corner and found
himself before an enormous crypt. Its face was carved with rows of horned
creatures that looked like krayt dragons, their leering faces warning him to
stay away. A massive iron door was set in the wall of the crypt. Oddly enough,
there was a strong lock on the outside of the door, as though the
Necropolitans were trying to keep someone-or something-inside.
"This has got to be the place," Zak said to the darkness. "The Crypt of
the Ancients."
He stood before the iron door and took a deep breath. "Urn, excuse me,"
he said out loud. He felt foolish, but so what? He'd do anything to bring his
parents back. "My name is Zak Arranda. I'm not from Necropolis. I don't know
if that matters. But my parents are gone. And I didn't get a chance to say
goodbye." As he spoke, the feeling of foolishness was replaced by something
else. Hot tears welled up in his eyes. "It's not fair that they were taken
away from us! Especially not like that. We didn't even get a chance to see
them! And now I miss them so much. I'd give anything to be able to see them
again, just once. Not the way I see them in my nightmares, I mean really see
them and talk to them. That's why I came here. If you really were a witch, if
you really did have the power to bring back the dead, this is for a good
cause. So won't you help me? Please?"
He waited.
Nothing happened.
The iron door remained as solid and cold as the moment before he spoke.
"Stupid idea...." Zak felt foolish once again. He sniffed back his last
tear. "Thinking that something like this would work. Next thing you know
you'll be muttering about the Force and wishing you were a Jedi like Tash."
Zak remembered the bet with his friends. He looked around and saw that
there were several smaller graves around the Crypt of the Ancients. He walked
over to one and pulled out the small knife Kairn had given him. He hesitated
for a moment when he realized that he would have to stand on the grave to
stick the knife into the ground. What would it be like to stand on a grave?
Zak took one careful step onto the burial plot. Was it his imagination or did
the ground seem softer, squishier?
"It's your imagi
nation," he told himself.
Still, how would he feel if someone stood on his grave?
"I wouldn't feel anything," he told himself.
Zak took another step. Now he was standing right on the grave. He
couldn't help but imagine that his weight was pushing down on the ground,
which was pushing down on a coffin, squeezing a lifeless bodyless than two
meters beneath his feet. He waited, his heart pounding.
Nothing happened.
Of course nothing happened, he thought. You're being ridiculous.
Shrugging off his fear, Zak raised the knife high into the air, hesitated
just a moment, and then plunged the knife into the ground.
For a moment Zak froze again. He heard a muffled sound below him. He
turned quickly, ready to run. Just as he did, a long, low moan rose up from
the beneath his feet. The ground shuddered.
And a hand reached up through the dirt.
CHAPTER 6
The moment he saw the gnarled white hand, Zak yelled in terror and
started to run.
He took only a few steps before he saw the ground in front of him also