To where?
I couldn’t imagine zombies, let alone zombies dragging a clumsy mutilated corpse, strolling across the highway during daylight.
The trail continued through the thicket to a hard-packed frontage road. Footprints wouldn’t show. The weeds on the opposite side of the road were fresh and undisturbed. The zombie trail stopped here.
I found a circle of water stains close to the shoulder of the road. Whatever leaked was held still for a moment, that’s why the spots were in a circle instead of a ragged line.
Held still…to be loaded into a vehicle?
What else? That’s how the zombies escaped with Cleto.
Then who drove? The reanimator? Zombie motoring skills probably matched their smell, but again, Barrett Chambers had driven himself to Denver.
I returned across the river. Phaedra waited. Water squished from my shoes.
She asked, “What did you find?”
“Not much of anything. The trail vanished.”
She whispered, “Zombies?”
I nodded.
“How do they do disappear like that?”
“They have their ways,” I replied.
“Should we tell my uncle? That it’s zombies?”
I put a flat edge in my voice. “No. Zombies are part of the secrets we have to keep. Besides, would he believe us?”
We backtracked to the ambush place. Cavagnolo and Vinny were on their knees scooping meth crystals back into the plastic jars. They weren’t picky about sifting out the grass and dirt.
They stood and each held an armful of plastic jars.
“Phaedra, come here,” Cavagnolo said. He handed her his load of jars. “Put these in Vinny’s truck. Wait for me there.”
She took the jars back to his truck.
Cavagnolo brushed his hands to get rid of the dust and white meth residue. He put his hand on my shoulder and led me out of the clearing. The gesture was a crude attempt to reassure me.
We stood with a curtain of willow branches between us and Phaedra. He suddenly grabbed the sleeve of my coat and yanked the pistol from his waistband.
“I’m going to shut your mouth once for all, you son of a bitch.”
The pistol swung toward my face.
My reflexes kicked into vampire speed. I didn’t know if Cavagnolo intended to shoot me or only try to scare me. Either way, I had other plans.
I wrenched the pistol from him and shoved him in the chest. I kept myself from punching his face and breaking his skull. I was close to losing myself in anger and the blow might’ve killed him.
Cavagnolo stumbled backward. His eyes gaped with astonishment. His arms twirled through the willow branches. He tripped and fell onto his back.
I ejected the magazine and racked the slide to clear the chamber. I tossed the magazine into the weeds and threw the pistol at his feet.
“Why are you worried about me keeping my mouth shut? Is this about your deal with the feds?”
The astonishment in Cavagnolo’s eyes boiled into rage.
“As long as I’m alive, your secret stays with me. I die and the world will know what a rat fink traitor you are.” I lied because I had made no such arrangements.
I reached down and pulled him up by his collar. I brought his face close to mine so he’d get the full brunt of my anger.
Even though I had him by the neck, he growled. “Yeah, I read you. Now you read me. Stay away from Phaedra.”
This guy had a brass pair if he was threatening me. “Phaedra wants to talk to me, that’s our business. Understand?”
Cavagnolo tried to shake loose.
I said, “Kill me and you’re screwed. Two ways. Your secret will get out and your own men will turn on you. And there’s what happened to Gino, Cleto, and the rest of that crew. I can stop the ones responsible. If you stay the hell out of my way. Understand?”
He nodded but that didn’t hide his rage.
I let Cavagnolo go.
He smoothed his jacket collar in quick motions. “Fuck you. I’m doing you a favor by telling you to stay away from Phaedra. She might be my niece but she’s still a fruitcake.”
“Phaedra’s a troubled girl, that’s all.”
“Troubled? She’s a crazy bitch.” Cavagnolo found his pistol and brushed off the dust.
Bitch? That was something Cavagnolo would say about a girlfriend, wife, even his mother, but his niece? How crazy was she?
Cavagnolo shoved the pistol into his waistband. “You’re quiet all of a sudden, wise guy.” He gave a malicious smirk. “That’s because you know I’m right.”
CHAPTER 35
Cavagnolo and I stepped from behind the trees and back to the clearing. Flies swarmed around us, perhaps hoping we’d also drop dead and add to the feast.
“What are you going to do about the bodies?” I asked.
“Leave ’em,” Cavagnolo answered. “Let them rot. I didn’t kill them, so when the cops come asking, I’ll tell them the truth. I don’t know nothing.”
“So that’s it?”
“Whaddaya expect? I move them and get caught, then the cops will assume I had something to do with this.”
Made sense. I said to Phaedra, “Better go with your uncle.”
“What about you?”
“I have things I need to get done.”
Vinny held open the rear door in the pickup cab. Cavagnolo nudged Phaedra’s arm. She pulled away. Her gaze swept over the corpses and back to me.
There was no horror in her eyes, only a strange disappointment. She stood between an old world and a new reality. What she had dreamed for—a new life reincarnated as an immortal—was possible. I had been her guide for a brief excursion into the world of the supernatural.
Her stare sharpened. My kundalini noir cringed as I sensed an echo. But she didn’t do it. Instead she turned her back to me and climbed into the pickup.
No good-byes from either of us. There was no reason that I should see her again.
They drove off and left me with a cloud of flies beating around my head.
What would the Araneum tell me to do about Phaedra? For now my priority was the zombies.
I started my 4Runner and drove to a paved road. I stopped beside a gravel quarry and got my map. I noted the places where the zombies had been.
Gino’s place. He had been carried from his house toward Pinos Creek. Why not carry him to the road and escape in a vehicle as they had done with Cleto? Why take the creek?
What about this ambush? Was it planned or did the zombies run across Cleto and the others? The zombies had taken him away in a vehicle. Where to?
Next, the ambush on me. That attack happened to the north of here by four miles. I couldn’t figure why the zombies were out there.
The attack on Gino occurred at night. The other two during the day.
I thought again about the attack on Gino. The zombies had headed east on foot. They had crossed the ridgeline connecting Horseshoe and Poison Mountains, farther to the south.
Poison? Not a good name.
I marked a line from Gino’s house through gaps in the hills. The line wiggled southeast toward San Diego Creek and across the draws and gullies.
I studied the map for clues. Where could the zombies have gone?
Horseshoe Mountain.
Varmint Gulch.
Ghoul Mountain.
Deadman’s Gulch.
Ghoul Mountain was next to Deadman’s Gulch. If those two places didn’t deserve a look, then I might as well give up and head back to Denver.
Something fluttered and landed on the roof of the 4Runner.
A pigeon?
I opened the door and peeked.
A crow stood, waiting. A filigreed message capsule gleamed on its right leg.
I scooped the crow and brought it inside the Toyota. Unless the Araneum was providing an exact address to the reanimator and his zombies, I had no use for their cryptic missives.
I unclipped the capsule and held it low near the floorboards, the dar
kest place in my 4Runner.
I opened the capsule and let it air out for a moment. I unfolded the swatch of vampire parchment.
It read:
Kill the girl. Continue with your mission.
Araneum
My insides felt hollow. The brown dried-blood letters were bold, the slashing strokes conveying the grimness of the message. Nothing cryptic here.
The crow hopped onto the sill of the open window in my door.
I crumpled the message in my hand.
I wouldn’t, couldn’t kill Phaedra. The Araneum didn’t understand. She was a girl with big problems and had reached out to me, a vampire, for help. She had psychic powers; weren’t those important to the Araneum?
Despite the fact that Phaedra knew about vampires, I’d find a way to let her live.
I threw the wadded parchment past the crow. The wad hadn’t gone five feet through the sunlit air before turning into a knot of fire and smoke. Gray ash fluttered to the dirt.
The crow lifted one leg and gave a muted squawk to remind me about the capsule.
I screwed the cap back on. “You want it, go fetch.” I wound my arm and hurled the capsule into a stand of dense rabbitbrush.
The crow followed my hand and catapulted from the window. It aimed for the tumbling capsule and extended both claws. Midway through the capsule’s trajectory, the crow snagged it with a clink of claw on metal.
The crow gave its wings a mighty flap and soared over the brush and the quarry.
Bad form, Felix. The bird was only doing its job. You need to get on with yours.
What I needed was a nap. Fatigue wore me down, and a tired vampire makes mistakes. Those mistakes can mean no more vampire.
I didn’t have time to sleep or make mistakes. I had tonight to find the zombies before they picnicked on the rest of town. I headed to Morada and circled south along San Diego Creek.
According to the map, the road climbed and kinked past the local cemetery.
I couldn’t sneak around in the Toyota. The approach to Deadman’s Gulch was a seven-mile hike over open ground.
I left the 4Runner on the street outside a small apartment building, got my backpack, and followed the road on foot.
I removed my contacts. Dozens of red auras from small animals flitted around me.
The road crested where the cemetery sat on the edge of a plateau. From here, the view looked east across the breadth of the San Luis Valley. Strings of lights followed the perpendicular roads segmenting the flat valley floor. It looked spectacular in a sweeping panoramic sort of way, but I preferred watching moisture bead on the side of a chilled cocktail.
Farther south on the road, isolated houses sprang up on the left and right. A few cars passed on the road. With my contacts out, I could tell from the passengers’ auras they weren’t interested in me.
Green trash bins and aluminum mailboxes sat on the side of the road. Signs advertised ranches parceled into smaller lots. ACT NOW. FINANCING AVAILABLE.
Ghoul Mountain loomed before me like a gigantic tombstone. On the backside of the mountain, I would find Deadman’s Gulch.
Headlamps rocked through the dusty night as a vehicle approached. This far in the distance, they wouldn’t see me. I hiked away from the road and crouched behind a natural wall of big rocks. A Subaru station wagon rumbled along, slinging rocks against its chassis.
Now that I’d started my trek, I realized that I’d underestimated the time it would take to reach Deadman’s Gulch. I’d have to go cross-country as quickly and stealthily as possible.
Better that I go not in human form but as a wolf. I’d attract less attention if seen by humans. In the darkness they’d assume I was a big dog or coyote. Plus my senses were more acute and I could run faster.
I stripped and put my folded clothes and gun in the backpack, which I hid beneath a pile of rocks.
I cleared a spot on the ground and lay naked in the sand. I summoned the transmutation from human form to lupine. A warmth leached to the center of my chest. My kundalini noir coiled into a nervous ball of anticipation.
Shards of pain crackled along my bones as they stretched and twisted into shape. My skull felt as if a grappling hook had snagged the front of my jaws and winched them to a point. Needles pushed out where fur sprouted through naked skin.
Smells flooded my nose and separated into delicate aromas. Tiny sounds echoed in my ears.
I lay still for a moment to let the pain from the transmutation melt away. I turned onto my paws and stood on all four legs.
I crept from behind the wall of rocks and waited beside the road. Dust from road traffic remained in the air and I sneezed.
I remembered the route from the map. I’d head straight to the big mountain. From there I’d go south to the gulch.
The way clear, I loped across the road. My path took me between large dwellings surrounded by dirt and brush.
I caught the scent of horses. Made me hungry.
Horses behind a fence picked up my scent and whinnied in distress.
Dogs barked a warning. Wolf. Wolf. Wolf.
I kept my speed at a fast trot. To the left, on the low hills, coyotes stalked mule deer. I crossed the scent trails of rabbits, field mice, and skunks. The stars above grew brighter the farther I got from humans.
I reached the high ground east of the big mountain. To my left, a faint white glow splashed across the shrubs and rocks.
I raised my snout. The air carried the odor of rotting human flesh and a strange pungent smell.
Zombies.
That glow must be from their lair.
I’d creep close and discover their numbers.
I only saw the auras of small creatures: mice, a raccoon, and an owl swooping for a meal.
Zombies had no auras. In this darkness and even with my night vision, they could hide in the rocks and shrubs provided they didn’t move. But as long as I could smell them, I knew where they were.
I climbed down from the high ground and went hunting.
CHAPTER 36
The trail I’d been looking for disappeared into a flat gully. I stayed on the slopes. Should someone surprise me, I didn’t want to be channeled into any narrows. I wanted open ground for sprinting at full speed.
Tire prints appeared in the dirt of the gully. The zombies who had taken Cleto must’ve traveled this way. Large rocks had been placed along the entrance to the gully to make it appear that no vehicle could pass through.
The smell of garbage collected along the bottom of the gully.
How close was I to the zombies?
The gully continued east and I proceeded straight over the rise toward the glow.
Something to my left moved. I slowed and stared at a juniper tree. There was no wind. How did the tree move?
The closer I got to the tree, the stronger the garbage stink. An odor of rotted pork and fruit.
When I got close to the tree, a zombie appeared from between the branches. I growled and bared my fangs.
Strands of filth peeled from the sores on his face and around his open mouth. A torn hat rested on his head. The cowboy zombie.
I picked up speed and circled past him.
He stepped away from the tree and followed. His naked feet crunched through dead cactus. He rubbed the sleeve of his right arm across his belt buckle to keep it shiny.
I slowed to a trot. I didn’t want to move so fast that I’d miss something important. If the zombie got too close, I could bound away.
We crossed the slope into the gulch. Another zombie waited. She stank of dead fish that had washed up and lain in the sun. She had hair the color of tumbleweed and pale eyes like the bellies of dead mice. A long blouse fell to the thighs of a pair of strong legs that ended in tall boots.
I recognized those boots. She’d been the one who had swung from the tree and smashed me on the head.
Cowboy zombie and I passed her. She reached into her blouse for her armpit. She flung a gob of hairy pus. I hopped and let it splatter on the rocks be
neath me.
The white glow up ahead became brighter. The groan of an engine drifted through the silence.
Zombies gathered behind me, too many to count at a glance. More zombies circled on the high ground and more in the gulch. Where had so many zombies come from?
They moved quietly; the only sound came from the scraping of their feet through the dirt.
I reached the top of the rise. The engine sound got louder. The glow came from the windows of a house. It appeared much like the other human dwellings that I’d passed. It had large windows and a porch in front. The porch opened to a flat wooden platform. Another set of tall windows was under the platform, showing another level to the house. The house was well hidden until I walked right up the gulch. I trotted down the rise for the house.
Strong odors made me wince. More pungent smells stung my nose.
A zombie in a clean white coat appeared on the porch. His hair was neatly trimmed and combed. He walked onto the porch and looked at me. He remained still while more zombies staggered through a door under the platform. He was all too human-like but had no aura so he was definitely undead.
Was he the reanimator?
The Araneum had said man. So who was this zombie and why was he different from the others?
I trotted in front of the house. Tire tracks rose from the gulch to a large door on the eastern side of the house. This was where they stored their vehicle.
More zombies loomed in the darkness, appearing from behind the scrub junipers. They moved without speaking or gesturing to one another so I wondered how they knew what to do.
I continued past a large container on tall metal legs that smelled of gasoline.
Along the back, I found the source of the groaning sound. It was a big engine connected to cables leading from the house. I couldn’t think of the human word for the machine but I knew it provided electrical power.
This was the zombie farm. The smells of decay and poison. The secret road here. The many zombies.
I knew the location and layout. I’d return with human weapons and leave nothing but ruin.
Zombies stood before me in a half circle. More zombies closed behind me. They moved in loose order as if under someone’s command. Whose? I didn’t hear a thing.
Jailbait Zombie Page 15