by K. A. M'Lady
What? Was he now my father or something? If I had a handful of guys living with me, it was none of his damn business. Besides, the Court had ordered Kieran under house arrest. Since Jirvel—the wicked white Vampire bitch of the west—had torched Kieran’s lair and taken over his home, where the hell else were he and the remaining few that her vile bitchiness didn’t kill supposed to go? Besides, I was beginning to like having them there. And they weren’t all guys.
Mercy was there on occasion—she’s Kieran’s first in command. She’s a little demented Irish Vampire goblin psycho-sociopath with a permanent case of PMS, but even she’s growing on me. Then there’s Lily, the other female Vamp of the group and Jet the Werepanther—Lady Light and Devil Darkness, my new pet names for them. So is it my fault if everyone else is a guy?
I was pondering their numbers, counting off their names in my head: Ien, Garric, Jade, Marcus and of course I couldn’t forget Berg. There were others that popped in—Vamps mostly, that Mercy brought with her on occasion from The Mound, some small club Kieran owns. I started to consider the hazards of working with Cage and what his thought process was doing to my mood, aimlessly staring into the darkness, when a shuffling noise off to my right caught my attention.
A zing of adrenaline pulsed through me as I squinted into the gloom, gathering my bearings. All I could see before me was the shadowed outline of crumbling gravestones and a headless prophet. Or maybe it was supposed to be a priest—who the hell could tell in this darkness.
I couldn’t, since it sat right beneath the overhang of a giant sweeping elm, its autumn foliage just beginning to fall, its limbs still thick with a multitude of burnt copper leaves. The night was so heavy with darkness and shadows, it was a wonder I could see my own two feet as I cautiously crept towards the direction of the noise.
My gut was telling me this was a really bad idea, but my brain kept reminding me that this was my job, and a bounty was a bounty. Not to mention the big fat check that would be waiting for me when Zombie Fred was laid to rest again. It was my job to get this thing back to its grave so the Necromancer could return it to the Shadow Land for good.
So why wasn’t she out here tracking the damn thing, since she was kin to the dead? Seems Lady Twilla couldn’t sully her pretty manicured nails with the actual labor. It wasn’t in her contract. Any of their contracts, actually, ever since four of her associates were brutally murdered by flesheaters the Necromancers had unionized...all remaining three of them in the tri-state area.
Their contract with the Silent Court now stated that they only questioned the dead or laid them to rest. In no uncertain terms did they hunt.
Whatever.
So it was me and the cops on this wild Zombie raid. Wait, scratch that. It was just me. Out here, alone in the graveyard. Again.
How the hell do I get myself into this shit? That was the question that was lingering in my head as I took that next fatal step.
There should have been freaky-ass background music playing and the lone damn owl high up in the nearest tree to call out its ‘Who’ as the theatre crowd yells at me to not look behind the gravestone. But of course I’d have to look—that’s what they were paying me for.
My hand rested cautiously on the gritty surface of the prophet, my heart ready to leap from my chest as I ever so slowly peeked around the back side of the stone statue. My breath tight in my lungs, I clutched one of my sickle axes in my hand, certain that the damn Zombie would be there, gnashing on some poor innocent bunny. Or at least, ready to leap out at me and eat my face off.
“What the fuck are you doing, Rihker?” Cage’s voice echoed through the silence from right behind me, and I swear I jumped five feet. When my feet touched earth again I spun, blade swinging out in front of me, total reaction, no thought but saving my own skin.
It’s a damn good thing he was quicker on the draw than he looked, because he jumped back just in time to miss the edge of its razor-sharp blade. Just as I realized what the hell was going on, a stir of movement directly behind him flashed from the shadows. Before I could blink, or even breathe the Zombie was clenching onto Cage’s left shoulder with a guttural moan for flesh.
Cage’s shriek ripped through the night as all the blood drained from his face. His fists swung wildly as the Zombie pulled him off-kilter, tearing into his shoulder, a groan of delight bouncing off adjacent tombstones as his teeth sank deep.
The radio Cage was clinging to went zinging through the air like a missile into the nearest bush somewhere. He began futilely swatting and whacking the Zombie upside its head, his desperate attempts to try to pry off his mouth completely ineffectual.
“Get it the fuck off me, Rihker!” he bellowed, punching Zombie Fred repeatedly in the front of his skull when his swats failed to sway the flesheater. Fred was so dead and so badly risen that eventually the front of his skull caved in and Cage got his fist stuck, which only made him scream louder.
“Get it off me! Get it the fuck off me,” he screeched, his eyes going round and the blood draining even further from his face. I thought for certain he was going to pass out right there.
“By all the Prophets, Cage, stop freaking out. It just wants a bite,” I jibed as I staggered over to the Zombie. It had a death grip on Cage’s shoulder, its bony fingers holding on for dear death. Its raggedy stumps of rotted teeth were clamped on solidly to Cage’s flesh, which was going to make prying him loose a total bitch.
There was something rather strange about this Zombie, I thought as I grabbed a head full of dusty skull, pressed my fingers between Cage’s shoulder and its flaky lips and popped its mouth loose. The audible pop as his shoulder came free had the Zombie looking up at me. “Flesh, Master,” it wheezed, still clinging to Cage. The look in its hollowed black eyes was searching. Pleading, almost. Like it was asking me for permission.
I think it was a little too late for that, considering Cage had a giant gaping tear in his shoulder and Fred’s mouth was smeared with his blood.
“Release him,” I ordered, my voice holding the command and authority I hoped I would need to force this creature into submission. Technically it was supposed to work. I was a creature of the earth; Light and Darkness ruling me. Zombies came from the earth. So in theory, it should listen to me. Right?
“Rihker, it’s not letting go. You said you could control it. Why isn’t it listening to you?” Cage was beginning to panic, his voice growing raspy as his breathing began to increase in tempo like he was going to hyperventilate.
“I said it should work. Prophets’ sake, does no one listen to me?”
“Rihker, so help me…” He didn’t get a chance to finish because Fred chose that moment to chomp again.
“Aaah! Riiihkeeeer!”
“Oh, for cripes sake!” I swore. “No! No more flesh!” I scolded, putting the full weight of my power into my words as I grabbed the Zombie by the back of the head and pulled it off of Cage. I kept pulling until I had an arm loose as well.
By now, Cage was screaming loud enough to wake all of the dead in the cemetery, and the Zombie was moaning loud enough to…well, return to the dead.
“Shut up! Both of you.” Their bellering was grating on my nerves, and I’d had just about had it for one evening. I swear, between stupid humans, unionized Necromancers and freaking psychopaths raising flesheaters, I’d had all I was going to take for one night.
“Cage, quit your damn whining. You’ll be fine after a few stitches and some serious antiseptic,” I said, finally pulling Zombie Fred completely loose of him. “And you, Zombie. Do not speak again until I tell you to,” I ordered, yanking on his arm to get his attention. The Zombie looked at me blankfaced, like a recalcitrant child caught stealing from Mommy’s pocketbook.
“Now, both of you walk. I want to be home and in my own bed before dawn.” They both walked. Well, Cage limped, blood oozing down his arm, grumbling something about bossy fucking Pixies. The Zombie did that kind of dead man shuffle that only the dead have when they’ve spent too much ti
me in their grave and their flesh hasn’t fully returned to their bones.
Give the guy enough time and flesh to eat and he might become a more normal-looking Zombie, I thought as we wandered back through the graveyard in search of intelligent life and my rental car.
It took some maneuvering, but by the time we found our way back through the darkness, there was a swarm of cops loitering around like junkies after a fix. Each of their eyes were large, round and gawking as they stared, mouths gaping as I pulled Cage and the dead guy along behind me.
“Jesus, Cage, what the hell happened to you?” one of the rookies asked, the blood draining from his face as he looked at the Zombie.
Good, I thought, he should be afraid. This was not some low-grade B-movie, Night of the Living Dead done up with really good movie makeup. This was real Other World, crawl from the darkest reaches of your fears kind of madness. And yes, it was this kind of shit that would eat your face off. They should all be afraid.
“Fucking Zombie tried to eat me, Danny. What the hell does it look like?” Cage slapped the blood welling from his shoulder.
“Stop yelling at the rookies, Cage. Someone get a med-kit, and where the hell is that Necromancer?” I yelled as I jerked Fred to a stop. “Stand there and don’t move,” I ordered the Zombie as I searched the throng of bodies uselessly milling around like a plague of death in the darkness.
“I am here, Rihker.” Twilla’s voice carried through the night like the cold hand of death, and I felt it all the way through my bones. It was the eeriest, chilliest touch of Darkness and it pulsed through me like a waking dream, silent and deadly. It was like the barest of whispers in all the dark reaches of my soul—like a remembered kiss, and just beyond that whisper, I felt Kieran.
I couldn’t help it; I actually shivered as the chill washed over and through me, the feel and scent of death clinging to my senses.
Lass? The concern in his voice touched all the lonely places I hadn’t remembered I’d had. It was still so strange to hear his voice in my head.
I’m fine, I told him. The connection was growing stronger between us with every drop of blood I shared with him. Just working.
I felt his caress brush along the lines of my cheek and jaw as though he were standing right next to me; gentle and oh, so careful. It was reassuring in a way. We had a very tenuous relationship; I still wasn’t thrilled with him marking me, taking my blood—initially—and binding me to him. We walked a very careful line with each other, so afraid that the thin line would snap.
It had nothing to do with wanting. There was plenty of that. We both had an insatiable need for each other. But it was a matter of trust, trust that we were both still learning to give and to take.
I am here if you need me, he said, and then I felt him withdraw. Oh, he was still there with me, lingering like a dark, silent dream in the shadows of my soul. But he was working on not intruding. And I was working on not being pissed at him for it.
Twilla was staring from me to the Zombie, her washed-out green eyes so pale they were almost luminescent beneath the dim yellow light of the sparsely lit road. The Zombie watched Twilla, its hollow, dark eyes showing the barest signs of life.
“Why is he doing that?” I asked her, my brow creasing as a wealth of bad thoughts were quickly forming in my head. For starters, Zombies did not have a spark of anything. The lights were on, but no one was ever home. They walked, talked and yes, sometimes ate people. But no matter how much flesh they ate, they never, ever had a glimmer of self reflected anywhere in their being once they were called from the Shadow Land. So what the hell was up with this Zombie?
“I do not know,” she said, her voice tight with worry. “Technically, it shouldn’t be doing anything at all.”
“Well, can’t you just put it back in its grave now?” I looked beyond our cars to where Zombie Fred’s grave was a shamble of overturned earth. I was really beginning to get that bad feeling again in the pit of my stomach. It was fast turning into a solid ache.
“I could…” She looked at Fred, her eyes growing large and fearful as she began to weave a strange design in the air in front of her. “But either that’s not Fred,” she whispered, “or that’s not Fred’s grave.”
And just like that, Zombie Fred was turning towards Twilla, its hands reaching, its mouth open, revealing its nappy, yellowed and bloodstained teeth. Twilla screamed and began backpedaling as Fred’s fingers latched onto her throat. “Do not let it eat me, Rihker! With my blood, it will grow strong. You cannot let it eat me!” she yelled. She stumbled into Cage and another officer who was helping to patch up his shoulder.
“Jesus Christ, Rihker! Do something!” Cage yelled. He toppled over the stool he was sitting on, knocking over the cop kneeling down in front of him and sopping up the blood from his shoulder.
Zombie Fred and Twilla tripped over Cage and the other officer, and all four of them went sprawling. Fred landed on top of Cage in a dusty thud, the hoarse bellow for flesh echoing through the night.
Cage screamed again as he hit the pavement face first, his bloodied shoulder giving out beneath him. It would have been comical if not for the way Twilla was assholes and elbows as she clawed her way from the pile, her face ashen with horror as she began shoving her way through the pool of cops who were all trying to back out of the Zombie’s way and draw their weapons. The whole thing was the biggest cluster of idiocy I’d ever seen.
Good ole Fred the Zombie decided he was going to climb his way up Cage’s body and try again for a midnight snack. I figured I’d best give the guy a break—he really was having a bad night.
Grabbing the Zombie by the back of the neck, I pulled him off Cage again and dragged him across the road towards the back of my rental car. Fred must have decided that maybe I’d be a better snack, as he turned and tried to attack me. Stupid damn Zombie left me little choice but to kick his ass to the curb, literally. He was still trying to come at me as he was getting up, so I kicked him in the chest, knocking him back to the ground.
I think I heard his ribs crack as my boot connected and when Fred’s head snapped back from the force, there was a cold glare to his eyes that hadn’t been there the moment before. “Flesh?” he pleaded, extending a hand to me, his voice a mixture of want and anger.
I looked down at him, confused by his strange behavior. What the hell was going on with it? Zombies did not get pissed and then plead for food, I thought, perplexed as hell, confusion and annoyance running rampant through my frozen brain. I blinked once, trying to figure out the whole damn sordid mess. As my mind was stuck in no fucking way mode, Fred foot-swept me. Fucking foot-swept me!
My ass met pavement, the jarring thud sending spikes of pain shooting up my spine. I was instantly shocked, appalled, baffled as hell and pissed off beyond measure that the bad guy had caught me off-guard. As Fred was climbing his way on top of me, groaning for my blood, I felt the remembered chill of Darkness as I looked into his soulless black eyes. I knew in that instant that something bigger, darker and far scarier was pulling this puppet’s strings.
Question was—what the hell was I going to do about it?
Chapter Two
And, broken ghosts with glowworms in their heads,
The things of light
File through the flesh where no flesh decks the bones.
Light Breaks Where No Sun Shines ~ Dylan Thomas
It’s rather strange how the dead trying to rip your flesh to shreds can really motivate a person. As Fred’s teeth sank into the bend of my left arm, the feeling of Darkness ran through my veins like poison; sludge so dark, I felt as if all of my Light had been stolen. The hideous memories from the two previous months came swarming back through me like hands pulling me into the center of a tar pit. I knew the pain was just a prelude, that whatever was to come next wasn’t going to include a kiss.
My throat was tight, closing, and my chest had that hard hammering feeling going on as though my heart would explode right out of my flesh.
Fred
moved, his hands clenching onto my wrist and my shoulder as he buried his teeth deep into the bend and I screamed, my body breaking out in a cold sweat as the feeling of all those souls that had passed through me this summer ran once more through my mind. Each one lingered like the horror story it was in the darkest reaches of my nightmares.
I could hear Fred sucking on my flesh, a slurping sound like a dog lapping at a bowl in an oasis that was my blood, and I knew that I had to make this stop. I had to get him the fuck off of me before I lost my mind.
My body was going into over-anxiety mode for the first time in my life. All because of the unclean touch of Darkness and its remembered stain.
Fred was starting to crawl his way on top of me, slowly scurrying to throw a leg over my waist when I arched my back, trying to lever a blade from one of the sheaths I constantly wore. I had only one arm free and Fred was holding me down, half of his body now on top of me as he made his way for a better hold.
He moved again, clenching on to my shoulder just as my fingers brushed the tip of the blade and I screamed again. I had no idea where the hell all my damn cops were, but if this fucking Zombie didn’t eat me tonight, I was seriously going to be kicking some boy-in-blue ass. That, or I was going to make sure people were definitely written up for not assisting. If I survived.
“Cage!” I screamed.
“Rihker? Where the fuck are you?”
“Cage!”
“Rihker, goddamn it, this isn’t funny. Where the hell are you? I know you’re out here, ‘cause I hear you, but I sure as shit can’t see you.” His voice sounded like it was right above me, but all I saw was darkness and a flaky fucking Zombie munching on my flesh.
“Spread out!” Cage ordered. “She has to be right here. Keep looking.”
“Cage, get this fucking Zombie off of me!”
“I hear you, Rihker, but we can’t see you. Keep talking.”
“By the Prophets, do I have to do everything?” I yelled as Fred wiggled his way across my body. My arm felt like it was being ripped in two as I squirmed to reach the blade at my back, my fingers just touching the tip of the blade. Fred moved and I kneed him in the gut, bringing his face up from my arm as he grunted as if in pain.