She stared at the tip of the sparkler in her right hand, concentrating hard. The way to make sure she didn’t attract any attention was not to mess up.
“Illuminati verdus,” she said softly.
A barrage of golden sparks similar to Cali’s erupted from the end of the sparkler. To anyone watching, it would look identical to the real thing.
Leesa smiled, pleased with herself. She hadn’t known she could do anything like this with the illumination spell.
“Now do the other,” Dominic said. “Let’s see if you can manage two simultaneously.”
Leesa stared at the sparkler in her left hand and whispered the spell. A moment later, the stick was shooting sparks just like the first one. Holding the two fire sticks out in front of her, she grinned in delight. She would never need matches as long as Rave was around, and now with her magic, she didn’t even really need sparklers. She was pretty sure she could do this with any stick, or even without one. She couldn’t wait until her next practice so she could try it with no one but Dominic and Rave watching.
Rave leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
“My talented little wizard,” he cooed softly into her ear.
Leesa smiled, totally pleased with herself and with Rave’s term of endearment.
“Well done,” Dominic said. “Now bring them down and let them go out.”
Leesa did as he instructed. The sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, so when the sparklers winked out, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness. When they did, she could see movement out on the barges. The band had begun putting away their instruments, too. In just a little while, it would be dark enough for the fireworks to start. She dropped the sparklers onto the ground in front of her and took Rave’s hand in hers.
“Hey,” Cali said, leaning in front of Rave so she could talk to Leesa more quietly. “I almost forgot. Did you hear about those two kids in Maine who got all bit up? Their friends said it was zombies who did it, but no one could find any trace of ‘em. When Rave and his buddies killed the zombies in our dorm, the things stayed right where they died.”
“Yeah, we heard about it,” Leesa replied. She was glad Cali had not experienced this dream—if she had, she would have mentioned it already. “We’re pretty sure it really was zombies.”
“Really? How do you know?”
“I dreamed it. Saw the zombies as clear as could be. They vanished in a cloud of blackness that Dominic said could only be the work of a black waziri.”
“Oh, crap. Those guys are back?”
Leesa nodded. “At least one of them is.”
Cali thought for a moment. “What do you think they’re up to now?”
“We don’t know—but whatever it is, it can’t be any good.”
“Well, if they know what’s good for them, they’ll stay up in Maine.”
Leesa doubted they would be so lucky. Still, she wasn’t going to let it interfere with her enjoyment of the fireworks show.
Down by the water, the band had finished packing up their instruments.
A voice boomed out from a microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, and especially all the children, young and old, welcome to the sixty-fifth annual Middletown Independence Day Fireworks Display. Enjoy yourselves!”
Three golden streaks shot skyward from the first barge, punctuating his words. When the missiles were several hundred feet in the air, they burst into balls of red, white and blue sparks. A moment after the colors appeared, three loud booms echoed through the night. The fireworks had officially begun.
The show alternated aerial explosions of varying shapes and colors with ground displays that formed shapes like flags or shot fountains of sparks up from water level. All of them drew hearty cheers from the joyous onlookers, with the more spectacular effects drawing the loudest cheers. Leesa loved them all, but she especially liked the explosions that sent shimmering curtains of multicolored embers floating slowly downward. They kind of reminded her of giant, illuminated jellyfish.
Dominic leaned close to Leesa after one such display.
“You have the power within you to create something similar to this, you know. Perhaps not quite so bright or quite so high, but not too different.”
“Really?” Leesa asked, finding it hard to believe she could ever create something as amazing as the display unfolding above her. “Will you teach me how one day?”
“I hope the time will come when I can,” Dominic replied. “When the weighty matters that lie before us have been resolved.”
Leesa nodded. She couldn’t wait for the day when she could use her magic for fun stuff like fireworks, instead of in preparation for the deadly confrontation she knew was edging ever nearer.
Less than a week later, the impending confrontation seemed even closer than Leesa had feared.
20. MOXIE
ONCE A YEAR, on the second weekend of July, the otherwise sleepy little town of Lisbon Falls, Maine comes alive with fun and festivity. Normally home to only four thousand or so residents, on this weekend the population swells to two or three times that. The cause of all this activity is the annual Moxie Festival, a three-day celebration of Moxie soda, one of the first mass-produced soft drinks in the United States. The somewhat bitter, cola-like drink was invented in Lisbon Falls way back in the late eighteen hundreds and maintains an almost cult-like following in New England.
Among the many activities spread out over the three days are dances, races, contests, a fireworks display and the centerpiece of the Festival, a big parade.
Peter and Laurie Thibout locked their bikes to the metal pole of a street sign and found seats on the curb along Main Street. For twenty years, the forty-something couple had been attending the Moxie Festival without fail. The parade was one of their favorite events. The beautiful summer morning was perfect for a parade—sunny and nearly seventy degrees, with powder puff white clouds dotting a pastel blue sky.
The sidewalks on both sides of the street were crowded with happy families awaiting the arrival of the floats and marching bands. The children were especially excited, not just to see the floats and bands and horses, but because lots of people in the parade would be tossing candy for them to catch. Already, marching music could be heard in the distance from one of the bands near the front of the procession.
Laurie exchanged waves and mouthed “hello” to her good friend Christy, who was sitting a short distance away with a couple of her cousins. Laurie then linked her arm around Peter’s elbow, snuggling against him and waiting for the front of the parade to come into view.
The music grew louder and a buzz of excitement rumbled through the crowd. Laurie craned her neck and spotted the lead vehicle: an orange truck lifted off the ground by giant wheels seemingly the size of small Ferris wheels. Resting in the bed of the truck was a life-sized statue of a white horse wearing the famous orange sash with the Moxie logo. Statues of white horses riding on trucks or fire engines, or even seeming to drive antique cars, were a tradition in the parade.
As usual, Laurie clapped and cheered as the various sections of the parade marched or rolled past: colorful floats, restored old cars, live horses, Scout troops, school bands and drill teams, among others. Every year, Peter teased her about how the parade brought out the kid in her, but she didn’t care. She loved parades, and this one was her favorite.
Nearly half the parade had passed by when terrified screams and shouts suddenly began reverberating from a nearby side street. Laurie and Peter shot to their feet to get a better look.
Laurie could not believe what she saw. Lumbering toward them down the street were several dozen people clad in bloody zombie costumes. Some moved with the slow, awkward gait she had seen in countless horror movies, while others walked almost as quickly as a normal human. She was pretty sure the newcomers were not an official part of the parade; she would have noticed them in the program if they were. Their makeup was amazingly realistic—professional grade, really. It looked like chunks of flesh were actually missin
g from their rotting faces, revealing yellow-white bone beneath. At first, she thought it was some kind of local prank—after all, the horror writer Stephen King had attended Lisbon High School—but when she saw a pair of the creatures fall upon an old man too frail and slow to get out of the way and begin tearing into his flesh with their teeth, she realized this was no prank. Somehow, beyond belief or explanation, real zombies had descended on Lisbon Falls.
There was no time to wonder how or where the horrific creatures had come from. Panic-stricken people were screaming and racing in all directions. Peter grabbed Laurie’s arm.
“C’mon. We need to get out of here. Fast.”
Laurie was about to turn and flee when she spotted something that stopped her in her tracks. A short distance up the street, a trio of zombies lurched toward a terrified young girl. The child was screaming, but her feet were rooted to the ground in fear. The girl’s parents were nowhere in sight. How the child had become separated from her parents didn’t matter—Laurie knew she had to act now.
Without hesitation, she dashed forward toward the girl. Peter raced behind her. Laurie scooped the child up in her arms just before the zombies fell upon her.
“This way,” Peter shouted, leading his wife into a narrow alleyway between two buildings.
Apparently angered by having their prey snatched out from under them—though Laurie had no idea whether zombies could even get angry—the creatures lumbered after them. Maybe they were angry, or maybe they just figured three meals were better than one. In any case, Laurie and Peter were not too worried. They were pretty sure they could outdistance the zombies over open ground, and knew that help couldn’t be too far away—there was a strong police presence at the festival and a company of uniformed National Guard troops had been marching in the parade. Laurie just hoped their weapons were loaded with live ammunition.
She and Peter emerged from the alley and found themselves just a few yards from the rocky bank of the Sabattus River. Seeing the water blocking their way, Laurie’s confidence abruptly turned to fear. More zombies were approaching from the right and the left, cutting off any escape. She glanced behind them, back the way they had come. The three zombies were almost out of the alley. There was no escape in that direction, either.
Her eyes fell upon a stairway leading up the back of the building. Maybe they could go that way, but then they risked being trapped inside.
Peter grabbed her elbow. “The river,” he shouted. “We have to jump.”
Laurie looked down at the water, flowing slowly by more than ten feet below. Even in July, the water would be cold, but she knew they had no choice. She and Peter were both strong swimmers. They would be okay, she thought. She just hoped zombies couldn’t swim. She didn’t see how they could—most of them had enough trouble walking.
The little girl in Laurie’s arms had stopped crying, but she clung tightly to Laurie’s shoulders. Laurie rubbed the back of her blond head.
“Hold on, sweetie. We’re going for a little swim.”
The zombies were less than twenty feet away now and closing rapidly. Laurie turned to Peter.
“Let’s go,” she shouted.
They ran forward across the paved path that ran above the river’s edge, counting on their momentum to carry them out over the rock jetty bordering the river. They soared through the air and landed with a loud splash.
The frigid water clutched at Laurie’s chest like a vise. She kicked upward, bringing them to the surface. The little girl sputtered and spit water from her mouth, but she seemed okay. Peter was easily treading water beside them. Laurie followed his glance back up toward the riverbank from which they had jumped.
Three zombies lurched toward the edge. Laurie thought they were ones she had snatched the girl away from, but she couldn’t be sure. With their rotting visages, the creatures all looked very much alike.
She watched in horror as the zombies stumbled over the bank and down onto the rocks before crashing into the water and disappearing beneath the surface. Laurie and Peter kicked backward, propelling themselves farther out into the river, their eyes fixed on the spot where the zombies had gone under. When a minute passed without the creatures resurfacing, Laurie began to breathe a little easier. She wasn’t sure whether zombies could actually drown, but she didn’t care, as long as they were lying on the bottom of the river and not swimming after them.
The remaining zombies up on the bank were apparently less motivated than the three who had stumbled into the river, because they turned away and disappeared in search of easier prey.
Laurie and Peter swam to the opposite side and pulled themselves up onto the shore. They felt safe now, with the river between them and the zombies. The little girl was shivering, so Laurie wrapped her up in a tight hug.
Gunshots began to ring out in the distance, telling Laurie the National Guard and the police had joined the fray. She hoped at least a few of them watched horror movies or Walking Dead so they would know enough to shoot the zombies in the head. If not, it could be a long bloody struggle. She wondered how many of the town folk had already perished—or worse, had been transformed into zombies themselves.
21. FIRST REPORTS
LEESA WATCHED THE TELEVISION IN HORROR.
The story was being reported on almost every station, replacing regularly scheduled shows. The broadcasts contained much more speculation than hard facts, but the gist of it was that a horde of what appeared to be zombies had attacked a crowded festival in southern Maine. Most people hearing the story would be flabbergasted or disbelieving, but Leesa knew better. Her mother and brother, watching with her and having suffered at the hands of vampires, also suspected the reports of zombies were probably true. Unlike Leesa, they did not know that the powers behind the attack were moving closer to Connecticut. She pushed the thought from her mind and listened to the somber-faced anchorman report what details he had.
“In a scene that seems straight out of the television show The Walking Dead, a crowd of people attending the Moxie Festival parade in Lisbon Falls, Maine were attacked this morning by what appeared to be several dozen actual zombies. Yes, folks, you heard me right. I said zombies.”
He glanced down at a piece of paper in front of him before continuing.
“Details are scarce right now, because the authorities are trying to keep a closed lid on the incident while they try to sort things out. The National Guard and the State Police have cordoned off the town and confiscated cell phones and video cameras. We’re told that U.S Army units are on the way, as are special teams from the Center for Disease Control. The rapid quarantine and confiscations have led to speculation that the incident may have been the result of some secret government experiment gone terribly wrong. Despite the quarantine, several videos have been leaked to the press and to the internet. We have one such video for you now. Though we have edited out the most graphic images, I have to warn you—this video is definitely not for the faint of heart.”
Leesa watched in abject fascination. The video was grainy and jumpy—clearly taken on the cell phone of someone fleeing the attack—but it showed the creatures falling upon helpless citizens and seemingly biting into their flesh. After perhaps a minute or so, the video came to an abrupt halt.
“That’s absolutely horrible,” Judy said, shaking her head in dismay.
“I know, Mom,” Bradley said. “I can’t believe they showed even that much on television.”
“That’s all we can show you here on television,” the newsman said, almost echoing Bradley’s words. “If you’d like to see the full video, you can log on to our website and watch a much less edited version.”
“Ugh. I think I’ll pass on that,” Judy said.
“Me, too,” Leesa said, though she was pretty sure she was going to have to watch it eventually with Dominic. He would want to see and hear as many details as possible.
The newsman shuffled some papers in front of him. “As I said earlier, complete details are still sketchy, but here’s what we k
now so far. The attack lasted less than fifteen minutes, thanks to a heavy police presence and the inclusion of a National Guard unit in the parade. Witnesses report that the initial police on the scene tried pulling the attackers off their victims, but were quickly turned upon by the creatures. Their comrades had no choice but to begin shooting. When shots to the body failed to stop the attackers, police and National Guard troops were ordered to aim for the head.”
The anchorman paused and sucked in a deep breath. “I can tell you from watching the unedited video that’s exactly what happened. When the shooting was over, more than three dozen bodies littered the usually peaceful streets of Lisbon Falls. Eleven have been identified as visitors to the festival. The rest, due to injuries inflicted by the head shots, have been more difficult to identify. None were carrying identification of any kind. Unconfirmed reports say a cemetery just north of the town suffered heavy vandalism. If this attack was indeed the work of zombies, perhaps that’s where they came from. Nobody knows—or is saying, at least—what might have brought the creatures to life.”
Leesa shut off the television. She had seen and heard enough for now. And she certainly didn’t need her mother to see any more.
“This is terrible,” Judy said. She turned to Leesa. “Does Rave know anything about zombies? Are they as real as vampires?”
“I think so,” Leesa replied. She had no intention of telling her mom about the zombie dreams or last week’s small attack. “I’ll ask him about it the next time I see him.”
Judy shivered. “I just hope this isn’t the start of some kind of zombie apocalypse.”
“You and me both, Mom.” The rest of Leesa’s thought—“more than you know”—went unvoiced. If she and Dominic were unable to thwart the Necromancer’s plans, she was afraid that a zombie apocalypse was exactly what might happen.
Her cell phone sounded with Cali’s ringtone from Pink. Leesa was pretty sure what this call was going to be about.
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