by T. G. Ayer
He'd more likely take her directly back home. Or worse, to Patala where she’d remain under lock and key until she healed.
So she drove.
Chapter 11
DOWNTOWN LA HELD an air of desertion.
Ghost town, much.
Maya turned towards Murphy's River as it ran along the edge of the harbor’s eastern border. The Waterfront community had settled beneath the overpass, erecting homes so makeshift all it would take was a cart and two minutes of packing to haul it away.
Maya parked as close to the river as possible. She didn't care about her car being stolen as Sabala had already thrown a glamor over it and hidden the vehicle from passers-by. She still locked it, though, and Sabala followed as she headed towards the overpass.
Cardboard boxes provided temporarily permanent shelter to dozens of homeless. Maya even spotted a few requisite shopping carts piled with trash.
As she picked a path along the river, she felt the prickle of pain in the bottom of her feet. The entire drive her foot had throbbed as she’d pressed the accelerator.
Now she paused, studying the homes, watching an old man shuffle by. His limp hair had greyed, not salt-and-pepper but dirty stained off-white that cried out for a good shampoo. The poor man was hunched over, spine was so curved she couldn’t understand how he managed to move at all. And yet he did, his jacket and pants, so faded that barely a hint remained of the original color of the garment.
Nondescript hair and clothes for a nondescript life.
He stared suspiciously at Maya as he limped past, the front of his shoes flapping open with a loud slap, revealing his soiled toes, and ingrown toenails now thick and hard from lack of care. He slapped his way loudly past her, and she looked over her shoulder and studied him for a while, but he appeared to be of no threat.
With Sabala at her side, people usually avoided her, pushed away by the negative energy of the hellhound. Humans registered demonic vibes on some unconscious level.
She watched the line of shacks and pulled fire to her feet for added healing energy. The burst of warmth helped ease the throbbing and she felt a little bit more confident.
She had no fear about defending herself. But her fire was extremely powerful and she worried she’d probably be a danger to innocents around her if things went sideways.
Maya flared her nostrils, and scented the air. The water from the river flowed by slowly and stank of urine, and other unidentifiable odors. Beyond that, the odor of unwashed bodies drifted towards her, almost overpowering.
The city council had been proactive in the last few weeks; they'd set up portable shower units all across the poorest parts of the city in the hope that the homeless would use them. Of course, when it had first been put up, there had been a certain amount of interest. But now, both interest and curiosity had waned.
Maya had no illusions about homelessness. She knew people suffered both on a financial as well as an emotional level. She knew too that if she dug deeper, each and every one of the people who lived along the river would have a history that would bring tears to her eyes.
The mentally challenged, the abused, the drug addicted, the financially insolvent, so many people without homes, without people who cared for them enough to ensure they didn't end up on the streets.
Maya swallowed hard, as hot emotions began to rise within her. She hated that they had to live like this. And wished more than once she had the kind of financial backing that would allow her to help these people. Even if it was to just set up a soup kitchen to provide meals for them every day.
She took a deep breath and hurried forward, looking for her father. Sooner or later she was going to have to face the music from various parties. Which made her wonder why one particular party hadn’t come back to her on what he’d found out. She sure hoped Nik had something concrete to tell her when he finally did show.
The scent on the air confirmed both he and Joss had passed by not too long ago. Beside her, Sabala sniffed the air with what Maya assumed was an expression of recognition.
They were somewhere deep within the shadows beneath the bridge, inspecting the little tents and cardboard caves, and looking for the undead.
Beyond the distinct bad hygiene, even beyond the familiar smell of her family, Maya had already detected the odor of rotten meat.
She'd long since become acclimated to the smell of Demons. Raw meat or rotting flesh, and spices, which had seemed strange at first, to be connected directly to Demon or Rakshasa.
In the aftermath of Kas's epidemic of the undead, Maya had discovered that the people who had died but hadn't died, had also taken on an odor similar to the rakshasa.
Similar, but not the same.
And now, all she had to do was follow her nose.
Oh, and refuse to give in to the call of the music should it attempt to entrance her again. Maya swallowed hard as she walked slowly, the rough heels of her hiking boots echoing on the concrete floor as she passed one haphazardly constructed lean-to after another. Faces peered at her, features hidden by grime, clothing dirty and discolored. Discarded takeout containers, bottles empty of alcohol and other beverages, food wrappers and boxes. The further she went the more her heart hurt.
She forced herself to concentrate on the smell, taking one step after another and following the stench. It annoyed her now; her dad knew she had the ability to easily smell the undead, and yet he'd thought it better to leave her at home.
She'd have been happy to come and help, even if they had to wheel her out here in a wheelchair. It would certainly have saved him a lot of wasted time. Considering she'd caught up to him, she knew she was right.
The smell was strong now, and Maya slowly came to a stop. Against the back edge of the overhanging bridge, she made out a lean-to constructed from a combination of foam, cardboard and bubblewrap.
She smelled someone inside.
Sabala snuffed, as if trying not to sneeze.
Maya's heart began to beat faster. Then she flinched as someone lurched towards her, yelling words, thankfully unintelligible. She took a step away, then glanced around.
An old woman, her dark matted hair hanging on either side of her lined face, was advancing on her, waving an old shoe in Maya's direction.
Maya raised a hand, placating the woman.
"It's okay. I don't want to hurt you. I'm just looking."
Maya spoke in a rush, trying to get the words out before the shoe landed on her head. Before Sabala, who'd already bared his teeth to the woman, decided she was a threat to Maya. Besides, it was important she stood her ground, or she'd never win the woman over.
But it didn't seem to be a problem.
The woman muttered something under her breath, waved the shoe in Maya's face once more, and turned and ambled off into the darkness. Maya shook her head as Sabala's breathing returned to normal.
Thanks pooch.
She'd been so ready to talk the woman down she felt slightly off kilter as her heart returned to it's normal pace.
She took a step closer to the sleeping man. Here the smell was stronger, almost overpowering enough that Maya was tempted to put her hand over her nose.
Bad idea.
Firstly, it would be an insult to the people around here should she reveal that the smell affected her.
Secondly, it wasn't as if hiding her face would stop her smelling the odor. She was detecting the essence of the demon rather than their physical smell.
She sank to her knees in front of a piece of hanging cardboard, pushing it aside to peer into the darkness. Sabala remained a few feet away, as if implying this wasn't what he'd signed up for.
A glance over her shoulder and Maya was relieved to find no-one, other than the cranky old woman, was paying much attention to her. She drew a tiny bit of fire into the palm of her hand and stuck it inside the dark interior of the tent.
The small ball lit the space and shone on the face of the man.
Maya startled, flinching so hard her fire sputtered out and she e
nded up landing on her ass.
She struggled to get back to her feet and tried to bring her breathing back to normal. She hadn't expected to see a corpse so desiccated it looked not much better than the ancient mummies of Egypt.
The undead caused by Yama's disappearance had been people who'd died just before the god was removed from his role. His absence had imbued them with a strange kind of life.
Yama had reappeared though, and as he'd been restored, many of the not-dead dead had just fallen back to death.
And, physically, they hadn't looked all that different.
Decomposition had halted, so when the proper death had been restored, bodies hadn't exploded in a hot mess, nor had they disintegrated into a neat pile of dust easily swept away.
Not so for the man she now stared at. His skin was brown, leathery. His eyes sunken into his eye sockets. The odor inside the tent was overpowering. Maya sat back on her heels. She couldn't be of any help to him.
He was gone. A mystery as to what had killed him, but he was dead.
Maya got to her feet, turned, and walked straight into her dad's chest.
"What the hell are you doing here?" asked Dev. He kept his voice low, though she could still hear his fury. Could see it pretty clearly in his eyes.
Maya glared at Sabala.
Thanks for the heads up, hellhound.
She straightened and replied, "Had to come and help." She lifted her chin and met his eyes defiantly. She was ready for the telling off that would come. Then again, maybe she wasn’t, because the next thing out of her mouth was a redirection of his attention. "I found something back there." She pointed a thumb over her shoulder at the tent.
She stood aside, allowing her father to crouch and peer into the tent. He pointed a flashlight inside, bringing the mummy-like face of the man into stark contrast.
Dev got to his feet and sighed. He looked at Maya. "Any ideas what could have done that?"
Maya shook her head. "He looks mummified. Something, whatever it is that killed him, sucked out every bit of moisture from his body."
Dev nodded. He'd already gathered as much. He retrieved his phone, proceeded to call headquarters and request a backup team, his anger controlled, yet tangible.
Uh-oh.
Chapter 12
DEV RANG OFF and slid his phone back into his jeans pocket. As he moved, his jacket shifted to reveal the revolver strapped to his torso. Maya raised her eyebrows.
What good would a weapon like that do against the supernatural creatures he dealt with?
Her dad’s lip curled in amusement. "You don't have to look at me that way. I'm not stupid enough to bring a weapon with normal human ammunition to this kind of gunfight." Maya shook her head but her father continued, waving her into silence. "We've been working on some ammunition. Holy water and frankincense and copper et cetera. It's all very interesting."
"And very weird." Maya grinned.
Dev let out a short laugh. Was he beginning to forget he was supposed to be angry with Maya? "So we’ll have a team down here within the next ten minutes. We should get going.”
Maya was only too happy to leave. Turning on her heel, she followed her father who'd already began to walk off. Joss remained at her side, although her friend was silent. Something was on her mind, but this wasn't exactly the place to talk about it.
Sabala clicked behind them as they headed off. They were beginning to attract more attention from the residents. Maya found she was unconsciously stepping up the pace as she imagined the residents becoming violent in response to their trespassing.
Paranoid much.
She was not afraid of them. She was just afraid of what she would end up doing to them if she was forced to defend herself with her fire.
As they hurried past the long line of cardboard homes, Maya stopped in her tracks so suddenly that Joss was already ten feet ahead before she realized she was alone.
She turned and stared at Maya and the hellhound, who'd also stopped.
Joss already knew that when Maya behaved oddly, like now, something was usually wrong. She didn't ask any questions, just hurried back to Maya and waited at her side.
In the distance, Maya could see her father slowing down too. He turned and watched them, curious now as he waited. Maya was glad he didn't come running back to her. She wasn't in the mood to be crowded.
She used her nose again, scenting for that particular odor that had caught her attention. It, too, smelled like a demon. The rotting flesh, the spices, this time it wasn't so strong. It was more of a hint than a pungent perfume.
"I think I smell another one."
Sabala whuffed, confirming it, while Joss stared in the direction of the glamored animal. She hated when he went invisible.
Problem was, Maya was a little uncertain of what exactly she was smelling. If she had to compare it with the odor of the desiccated corpse they'd just discovered, she'd say it was either rakshasa or an undead who was still alive.
Maya preferred the undead.
She followed the smell. It wasn't easy, as the odor was faint. The ammonia from the river was strong here and it would be strong enough to hide the scent of an undead unless you were blessed with a timely breeze. Which explained why Maya hadn't caught it the first time she'd gone by.
They passed a small shack made of rubber sheeting and a couple of broken shipping pallets. Within the shadows of the room, beneath a blanket, Maya could make out an unmoving form.
With Sabala at her elbow, she sank to her haunches and peered inside, her nose telling her she'd found her quarry. Her heart pumped hard in her chest, as she worried about what she was going to see. Finding the desiccated corpse of the previous zombie had not been an enjoyable experience, and Maya wasn't looking forward to going in for round two.
She stuck her hand inside the tent, and drew fire to the palm of her hand. She kept it subtle, so as not to frighten the person, but she needn't have worried. The woman was fast asleep, her gaunt face skeletonized by the shadows. Her skin was pasty pale, her lips black. Easy signs to identify her as an undead. Another one that had slipped under the radar, lost in the search that had rounded up so many of them during the past few months.
And undead she was, sleeping peacefully in this little community of homeless people.
Within the tiny quarters, Maya made out little more than just her sleeping pallet. It made sense she had no food cartons.
The undead did not eat. Once they were resurrected, food was the last thing they wanted. What they sought out for sustenance did not need to be cooked.
Just like the fictional zombies, the undead fed on blood. Whether it be directly from the vein of a living being, or from a freshly killed human. Blood was their sustenance.
These were the modern versions of vampires. Of course, they came without the ability to transport themselves from place to place, or turning into bats and flying off into the night.
But the closest thing Maya had ever seen to that kind of undead was the Vitala, a vampire type demon Maya had fought before. She glanced at Joss and they both got to their feet. Maya tilted her head in her father's direction and Joss took off, bringing him back as discreetly as she could. Being the head of their outfit, and the fact that he was on-scene, he’d have to be the one to verify the find.
Even in their shadow organization there were rules.
Maya could see the concern, combined with excitement, in her friend's eyes. Joss was also afraid of what the undead could do. Many people, innocents, cops, and Yama's agents, had died trying to apprehend them.
And from what Maya was seeing now, many more people would, unless they found a way to bring the undead in safely.
Dev paused at the entrance to the tent as Sabala shifted aside, met Maya's eyes, and received a short nod. She remained where she was as he rushed off to make the call a little distance from the tent.
No sense in causing a riot among the residents.
He’d be calling headquarters again, and requesting more an evacuation te
am for the bodies.
This case had been more than successful. They'd found a dead zombie, one whose death seemed inexplicable. And they'd also found one alive. Two undead so well hidden for all these months.
Goes to show, how few people truly see the homeless.
Even those who claim they're aware, that they respect these people, even those who open their wallets and donate towards their well-being, didn’t really see them. Too few people would truly sacrifice to give the homeless a helping hand.
Here in the Waterfront community, it would have been easy for the two zombies to stay hidden, within this population of the unseen.
Maya remained outside of the tent, watching the woman breathe. That she made use of her lungs even though she was technically dead, was not only an automatic nervous system glitch. It was understood that even the undead required some form of cell oxygenation in order to remain ‘alive’.
Oily strands of dark hair surrounded her face, squashed beneath a multicolored beanie. Her body was hidden beneath layers of clothing, at least three jackets and two pairs of pants. Had she been trying to blend in with the rest of the community? As far as Maya knew the undead weren’t affected by the weather.
Footsteps and the grating of gurney wheels on concrete drifted towards Maya. The team had arrived to remove the body, and she was not surprised to see two agents attired in hazmat suits shuffling towards her.
They paid no attention to her, just pushed their gurney along and headed straight for Dev who led them toward the shack in which Maya had found the undead male.
Maya stiffened, keeping an eye on the sleeping zombie. The woman shifted on the pallet, and shuddered, pulling the blanket closer. Maya frowned and leaned in, recognizing the beads of sweat covering the undead’s forehead. When she began to cough softly, Maya frowned, confused.
A sick undead?
Things just kept getting weirder and weirder. How the hell did an undead get sick? Maya's heart tightened.