Sam Finch and the Zombie Hybrid (Sam Finch Series Book 1)

by Bouchard, J. W.

  “Do you understand? This isn’t you doing this.”

  Malavant took another step forward, baring his teeth like a wild animal.

  He has no idea, Sam thought. Trevor has too strong a hold.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Sam said. “But I will if I have to.”

  Said in the heat of the moment, Sam wasn’t sure it was entirely true. It had been one thing to kill the wraith, but hybrid or not, Malavant was at least partially human. Sam’s mind flashed through his knowledge of warrior ethics; assessing the current situation, he knew killing Malavant would be within reason. Right or wrong, however, Sam didn’t know if he could bring himself to do it.

  Trevor glanced over his shoulder, scowling at Sam from the bench. “Attack!” he commanded. “Kill him!”

  Malavant advanced. Sam assumed a defensive stance, bringing up his sword, ready to strike.

  “You don’t have to obey him,” Sam said. “Use your head. You’re still human. Don’t make me do this.”

  But Malavant was beyond reason. Sam was mere seconds away from having to make the toughest decision of his life when Sarah rolled, kicking out with her bound feet, catching Malavant in the back of the legs. Malavant fell to his knees, bellowing in anger. To Sam’s left, in the other wagon, Curtis still had the slingshot ready to fire.

  And then a thought occurred to Sam. He took one hand from his sword, pointing his palm toward Malavant. He cleared his head and shouted, “Tikelen Ogni!”

  Immediately, Malavant was bathed in green flames. For a moment, it didn’t seem like the spell had any effect, but then Malavant fell to his side and began rolling around on the floor of the wagon, howling with laughter.

  The stink of the swamps was getting stronger; Sam’s nostrils burned. He stepped around Malavant, knelt down in front of Sarah, and began untying the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles.

  “You’ve ruined everything!”

  Trevor had dropped the reins and was facing them now. The look of rage on his face gave him an almost inhuman appearance. “I will not fail my master!”

  The wagon barreled down the dirt road, swerving right and left now that Trevor was no longer controlling the horses. Sam was pitched forward, righting himself as Trevor climbed over the bench and into the back of the wagon.

  Sam continued to try to untie Sarah with one hand as he kept Rusty at the ready in his other hand. “Don’t be a fool,” he said. “You’re unarmed. You’ve failed.”

  Up ahead in the distance, Sam could see that the trees gave way to a vast stretch of putrid-smelling swampland.

  “Master does not accept failure,” Trevor said. “I may be unarmed, but he has given me a great gift.”

  Trevor threw his head back so that he was staring up at the sky. He raised his arms above his head and said something in a language Sam had never heard before. Suddenly, dark clouds gathered in the sky above them. A bolt of lightning struck the ground in front of the wagon. Trevor tilted his head forward, glaring at Sam. Trevor’s eyes blazed red.

  Malavant continued to writhe on the floor of the wagon, the green flames licking his body.

  Sam managed to free Sarah, yanking her to her feet and they retreated from Trevor to the back of the wagon, tripping over Malavant.

  Trevor came toward them, silhouetted by another crash of lightning. Thunder boomed in the sky like a savage drumbeat.

  Sam and Sarah had edged their way back to the wagon’s tailgate. The air was so thick that Sam had difficulty breathing. Was Trevor summoning a massive storm?

  Trevor was nearly on them when Sam looked to his left and saw Curtis sitting on the bench of the other wagon, slingshot pointed at Trevor now. “Shoot him!” Sam yelled. “Shoot him – now!”

  Curtis fired the slingshot; his aim, as usual, was true. The smooth round stone soared through the air and struck Trevor right between the eyes. Trevor bellowed, tearing at his face as whatever magic Lilah had transferred to the stone began to do its work.

  Sam didn’t waste any time. He pulled Sarah to the left edge of the wagon and flung her over. She landed in the other wagon, where Curtis helped her to her feet.

  “Come on,” Sarah said. “Jump, Sam!”

  Sam was about to jump when the air thickened even more. He felt like he was moving through water. The out-of-control wagon hit a dip in the road and flew a few feet in the air, tilting wildly. Sam closed his eyes and braced himself for the wagon’s impending impact…

  But nothing happened. The wagon didn’t crash. There was no sound of splintering wood; no sudden rush of pain.

  Sam opened his eyes. He stared in shock and disbelief. The wagon was levitating above the ground, the horses frozen in mid-stride. Next to them, the other wagon and its horses were likewise frozen in place. Lilah, face screwed up in concentration, hands glued to the reins; Curtis had his slingshot clasped in one hand; Sarah stood next to him, her mouth still open from shouting for Sam to jump.

  Malavant was on the floor of the wagon, the flames covering him, but they didn’t move. It was as though the entire world had come to a standstill and Sam alone was the only person left capable of movement.

  Sam picked his sword up from the wagon floor and sheathed it. He jumped across to the other wagon (this was surprisingly easy now that neither one of them was moving) and examined his friends, who could have passed for statues. He poked Curtis’s cheek with his finger; his friend’s skin was springy to the touch.

  A rush of wind brushed past him, blowing leaves and dirt with it, forming a swirling mass several feet in front of the horses. A hole of deepest black appeared in the swirling mass, gradually expanding. It was as if his surroundings were a vividly realistic painting and someone was slowly ripping the canvas open from behind.

  When the hole of darkness was eight feet in diameter, a figured stepped out of it. A tall, slender man with olive skin and a drooping black moustache. He was handsome, but his eyes were as black as the vortex behind him, and he was wearing a silken black robe decorated with gold patterns.

  The man looked at Sam and smiled, but instead of approaching, he walked over to where Trevor was frozen in the other wagon. With incredibly long fingers, he clamped his hand around Trevor’s throat and said, “You’ve failed me. Your punishment will be severe. But perhaps you will still prove useful.”

  As though Trevor was weightless, the man threw Trevor’s body through the black vortex. The man made his way over to Sam. “Ah, Sam Finch,” the man said, smiling. His teeth were straight and perfectly white; a dentist’s dream. “We haven’t been properly introduced. My name – ”

  “I know who you are,” Sam interrupted. “Demälikar.”

  “Oh my, you are as clever as Trevor described you. That is correct, I am Ubel Demälikar.”

  “Release my friends!” Sam said, trying to sound brave, but quaking with fear on the inside.

  “And fearless too. Fret not, young Sammy. I aim to do precisely that.”

  Sam narrowed his eyes. “You do?”

  “But of course,” Demälikar said. “Contradictory to what my adversaries might say about me, I am a reasonable man.”

  Sam sensed Demälikar’s power, but he wasn’t about to give up. His spell had worked on Malavant; there was no reason to think it wouldn’t work again. He brought his hand up quickly and said, “Tikelen Ogni!”

  As if Demälikar had read his mind, he brought up his own hand and deflected the spell as though he were swatting away a fly. A small sphere of green flames came within inches of his hand and then fell to the ground. “Magic too, eh? A boy of many talents. Impressive, but I must insist that we keep things amicable.”

  Demälikar waved his hand and a wooden chair appeared behind Sam. Instantly, Sam felt himself shoved backward by unseen hands. He fell into the chair, and thick gnarled tendrils shot out of the ground, binding him to the chair. “There,” Demälikar said, “that’s better. It will make things easier if I have your full attention. There is a business matter I would like to discuss with you.�
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  “What sort of business matter?” Sam said through gritted teeth, squirming uselessly as the tendrils tightened themselves around his arms and chest.

  “It is my understanding that your father is gravely ill.” Demälikar stared sympathetically at Sam, shaking his head slowly back-and-forth as though this news was as distressing to him as it was to Sam. “Dying, in fact. Isn’t that right?”

  Sam kept struggling, but the tendrils wouldn’t budge. “How did you know?”

  “I have many eyes that see many things. But how I know is irrelevant. What is important is what I’m prepared to do about it. I would ask you this, Sam – how badly do you wish to save him?”

  “He can’t be saved,” Sam said, forcing himself to fight back tears. “The doctors can’t do anything.”

  “But what if you could? If there was a way – if you could save his life, what would you be willing to do?”

  “Anything!”

  Demälikar smiled broadly, and despite his handsome face and perfect teeth, there was something sinister and ugly about that smile. “I thought so. You’re a loyal son.” He slid his hand into the pocket of his robe and brought out a small glass vial with a crystal stopper. It was half-full of a dark frothy liquid. “This serum,” Demälikar said, “has the power to cure any illness. Few know of its existence and it is nearly impossible to come by.”

  Demälikar shook the vial, the liquid swishing around inside of it. “I’d be willing to give it to you.”

  “This is a trick,” Sam said, his cheeks damp from crying.

  “I wouldn’t deceive you, Sam. You see, I’m willing to make an even trade. Your father’s life for a small favor.”

  Sam didn’t believe the man for a second. What kind of trickery was he up to? Despite knowing very little about Demälikar, it was enough to know that the sorcerer was filled with anything but good intentions.

  But still…what if he was telling the truth…what if the serum could save his father’s life? Wouldn’t that be worth it?

  “A favor?”

  “Yes, a small one. Insignificant, really. A debt owed.”

  “What kind of favor?”

  Demälikar waved his hand, indicating that the finer details were of little consequence. “Nothing to lose a wink of sleep over. I’m not asking for you to do anything now. A time will come when I will ask something of you, and you will be expected to do it without question. “What do you say, Sam?” Demälikar shook the vial again. “Your father’s life is in your hands. It’s your choice. Do we have a deal?”

  “And if I don’t accept your offer?”

  Demälikar shrugged. “Then your father dies. Time is short, I think. This is a one-time offer.”

  Sam knew with every fiber of his being that he shouldn’t take the deal; knew that even if Demälikar was telling the truth and the serum could save his father’s life, the decision would come back to haunt him.

  But I could save him, Sam thought. Isn’t that worth the price?

  Sam turned his head, staring up at the wagon where Sarah, Curtis, and Lilah still stood frozen like statues. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

  “So you accept my offer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Say it,” Demälikar said eagerly.

  “I accept your offer.”

  “Wise decision,” Demälikar said. The tendrils securing Sam to the chair unwrapped themselves and sank back into the ground. Sam stood up. Demälikar stepped over to him, holding out the vial. “I believe this is yours.”

  He handed the vial to Sam. Sam took it, gazing at the dark frothy liquid. He pocketed it and pointed to his friends.

  “And now you’ll let them go?”

  “Of course. However, before I do, I would be remiss if I didn’t stress to you the importance of keeping your side of the bargain. When the time comes for you to pay your debt, should you change your mind and renege, the serum’s power will be reversed and your father will die. Consider it my insurance that you will follow through. Do you understand?”

  Sam nodded.

  “Good. It is a pleasure doing business with you, Sam. You’ll only have a moment to ensure your friends don’t meet a tragic end,” Demälikar said, gesturing at the wagon and the horses frozen in mid-gallop. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Sam hurriedly climbed onto the frozen wagon where Malavant lay covered in unmoving green flames. The wagon was tilted at a precarious angle, and Sam had to be careful to keep his grip to prevent himself from sliding off. Sam grabbed Malavant under the shoulders, dragged him to the edge of the wagon, and lowered him into the other wagon as gently (he was extremely heavy) as he could.

  After Malavant was in their wagon, Sam climbed onto the bench. Lilah was still holding the reins. Sam pried them from her fingers.

  Demälikar strode back into the gaping black vortex. The vortex vanished, and in the next moment motion was restored.

  The other wagon, now empty, came jolting down at an angle, spilling onto its side. The back wheels flew off and were sent spinning away as the horses dragged the wreckage behind them.

  Sam was jerked forward as the horses pulling their wagon sprang back to life, resuming their mad dash. Sarah, Curtis, Lilah, and Malavant all came back to life. Malavant writhed on the floor until the Ticklefire spell started to wear off. Curtis fell onto his bottom, and a moment later Sarah struck the wagon floor beside him. Sam removed one hand from the reins long enough to make sure Lilah didn’t fly off the bench, and then pulled back on the reins. The horses slowly came to a halt.

  Malavant was conscious. He was suffering from a severe headache, and couldn’t remember anything after going to bed the night before. Sam didn’t have the heart to tell him what he had done or that he had unknowingly been Trevor’s puppet. He was sure a day would come when someone would explain to Malavant what he was, but Sam wasn’t going to be the one to do it.

  Sarah, Curtis, and Lilah pummeled him with questions as they rode back toward Dashelmore. Sam told them about how everything had stopped and gone completely still, about Demälikar’s appearance from the vortex, and how he had taken Trevor with him (they took turns speculating about what Trevor’s fate would be). He said nothing about the deal he had made, having no doubt that none of them would approve of it. They couldn’t understand. The vial of serum was tucked away in his pocket.

  Sunrise came. When the castle was in sight, Sarah said, “You saved me, Sam. Thank you.” She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

  Curtis cleared his throat.

  Sarah turned to look at Curtis and Lilah. “Thanks to both of you as well. I’m forever in your debt.”

  Sam cringed inwardly upon hearing the word “debt.”

  “No problem,” Curtis said. He had his slingshot out and was rolling one of the stones around between his fingers. “I had a couple of nice shots.”

  “Spectacular shots,” Sam said.

  Lilah hadn’t spoken. She was cradling her injured hand.

  “Are you okay?” Sam asked.

  “I’m fine,” Lilah said, massaging her injured hand. When Sarah thanked her again for helping with the rescue, she said, “I did it for Sam, not you.”

  This was followed by a tense silence that went unbroken until Curtis said, “What I don’t get is why Demälikar let us go. And how come you didn’t freeze up like the rest of us? Are you special or something?”

  “I don’t think I’m special,” Sam said. “Maybe he just wanted a witness?”

  Curtis shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  As they neared the village, they saw men on horses thundering toward them on the road, kicking up a thick cloud of dust. Upon seeing them, the small army slowed, and Sam saw King Leodan in the lead, Alsted and Felgorn riding beside him. A dozen of the King’s knights followed behind them.

  Meeting in the road, Leodan dismounted his horse. Sarah climbed down from the wagon, ran to him, and threw her arms around him. “Father,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.<
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  “I thought I’d lost you,” Leodan said, close to tears himself.

  Sam’s jaw dropped.

  Beside him, Curtis said, “Did she just call him – father?”

  The only one that didn’t seem the least bit shocked by this news was Lilah.

  “You knew?” Sam asked.

  Lilah nodded.

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “It wasn’t my place,” she said.

  Sam was surprised he hadn’t figured it out on his own. It explained a lot of things: why she lived in the castle; how she had gotten into the training academy; the way she spoke to the King as though he were a commoner. It all made perfect sense now.

  Leodan regarded the rest of them with suspicion.

  “Father,” Sarah said, “they saved me.”

  Leodan looked up at Sam, Curtis, and Lilah. “I am eternally in your debt,” he said.

  There’s that word again, Sam thought. Debt. Already haunting him.

  “I want to hear everything,” Leodan said. “The three of you will join us in the castle.”

  Leodan mounted his horse, pulling Sarah onto the saddle after him.

  “I can’t,” Sam said.

  “Sam?” Sarah asked.

  “Your Majesty, it’s my father…he’s dying. I need to get home. I…” Sam cast his eyes to the ground, embarrassed by what he was about to say. “…I was going to ask your daughter for money to cover the fare.”

  Sarah looked to her father. “We need to help him.”

  Leodan nodded. “Without question.”

  “I was thinking,” Sam said, “if maybe I could just…borrow, uh, a wagon…it’s the fastest way.”

  Leodan leaned over and whispered something to Alsted. They carried on a brief conversation, unheard by any of the others. Finally, Alsted nodded.

  “Yes, you’ll need transportation,” King Leodan agreed. “But horse-and-wagon isn’t the fastest way.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CURE AND CONSEQUENCES

  Sam soared over the trees, both thrilled and terrified as he clung to the large feathers on the back of the wyvern’s neck.