Zombie Lover

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Zombie Lover Page 29

by Anthony, Piers


  “But—”

  Jeremy shrugged. “They want to do it,” he said, climbing in. “So let’s do it.”

  Frustrated, Jenny gave up and got into the boat. She hoped that the others knew something she didn’t. But she didn’t trust their weird confidence. There was more than a whiff of a hint of disaster in the air.

  The boat moved out of the glade, through the trees, and onto the beach. It plunged into the water and moved swiftly for the neighboring island.

  “Who arranged this?” Jenny asked.

  “I did,” Dor said. “Last night, after we decided to try the Isle of Women.”

  “But we hadn’t considered the risk then.”

  “I think it will be all right.”

  Jenny shut up. Sometimes the logic of men escaped her. But why did Breanna also agree to this risk? She at least should have more sense.

  Soon they came to the Isle. The boat ran up on the land, making its way to the duck pond in the center.

  There was a crowd of beautiful women. Chief among them was one in indecent bra and panties. Naturally all four men went immobile as their eyeballs locked into place. They would be no help.

  “So you return,” the woman said.

  “Hello, Voracia,” Breanna said. “You know the three kings and me. The others are Jenny Elf and Prince Jeremy Werewolf. We need to discover whether his ideal woman is here. Presuming that you women remain interested.”

  “Yes, we all have dream prince boyfriends now, but we want something for our waking hours too. We don’t want to dream our lives away.”

  “We figured as much. But first you’ll have to turn off your clothing.”

  “Oh.” The woman’s apparel became a halter and shorts. These remained somewhat too suggestive for Jenny’s taste, but at least the men were able to draw their eyeballs away with only slight sucking sounds.

  “Let’s just stay in the boat,” Breanna said. “While you parade your women by. We hope that one of them will be the one.”

  The boat, agreeing, relaxed. It sank slightly in the water, its feet moving just enough to keep it stable. Jenny knew, because she peeked over the edge.

  “But that’s not the way we operate,” Voracia said. “We each must get our turn to fascinate him.”

  “You can do that right here.”

  Voracia shrugged. “Very well. I am first. How do you like me, Jeremy?”

  The werewolf eyed her thoroughly. Jenny could appreciate why. Voracia had the kind of face and figure Jenny knew better than even to dream of. “You look very interesting. But my concern is not how you look, but whether you are my true love. I will know only if you approach me, speaking love.”

  “I can do that,” she said. She walked toward him, her hair flowing, her halter jiggling, her shorts tightening and moving most suggestively. Jenny was privately jealous, being forcibly reminded that her own body would never fill out clothing like that, or move like that. So she would never be able to fascinate a man in that manner.

  “I love you, Prince Jeremy Werewolf, and want to marry you,” Voracia said dulcetly as her clothing turned translucent. Jenny was jealous again: she could never lie like that, either. Oh, the woman surely wanted to marry him, but how could she love him, in just these few minutes? She just wanted to be a princess or queen.

  Jeremy shook his head. “You are not the one.”

  Jenny was privately gratified, though she knew she shouldn’t be. It was just that she thought that things like bulging halters and semi–see-through shorts should not decide a lifetime relationship. What about character? Compatibility? Harmony of lifestyle? Would Voracia even want to associate with him when he was in his wolf form? Yet the other women of the Isle might be no better.

  “But how can you be sure?” Voracia said, her halter shrinking so that her bosom had to struggle to stay partly inside. “Come out of that canoe and join me, and I will show you such a good time.”

  “I don’t want a good time. I want my one true love.”

  Her expression became less pretty. Her upper garment assumed the likeness of brands and brass knuckles, which Jenny realized made sense for a bra. “Then go soak your stupid head!” she flared, turning away. Her shorts condensed into a G-string so that her flexing bottom looked bare.

  Jeremy’s eyeballs began to steam. Breanna reached out to put her hand before his eyes. That broke his connection before the orbs were cooked. “Thank you,” he gasped.

  “Others will try something similar,” Breanna murmured to Jenny. “Be alert, and rescue him quickly. I’m going to take a nap; it’s my sleeping time.”

  The other women tried to impress Jeremy, flashing their charms and speaking lines of love, but one by one he turned them down. Some were gracious, some not. Some cried. Jenny saw how guilty that made the werewolf feel, but he would not accept any wrong woman. It was clear that he was both decent and a person of conscience, and this was not the delight it might have been for another man.

  Jenny saw that the three kings, bored, were joining Breanna’s snooze. Apparently the sheer amount of curvature being exposed had worn down their freakout circuits, and of course they had seen it before, when they were the ones being tempted.

  “I am Polly Tician,” the current woman was saying. “I love you, Prince Werewolf, and will make you happy for the rest of your years, with two carts in your garage.”

  “I believe you,” Jeremy said, surprised.

  “Wait,” Jenny said, alarmed. “Find out her talent.”

  “What’s your talent?” he asked Polly.

  “I make others believe what I promise, but then I don’t do it.”

  “You’re not the one,” he said. Then, privately to Jenny: “Thank you. She was persuading me, but you were right. Her promises are meaningless, however persuasive.”

  The next was a creature so ethereally lovely that it had to be artificial. Perhaps she was a demoness. Jenny was becoming increasingly cynical and disgusted by this process of mate-hunting.

  “I am Miss Succubus,” she said. “I lost my body in the Void, but managed to save my spirit. Now I can suck up whatever is near. If you would like a soft girl, I can suck up feathers and cloud-stuff. If you prefer a hard woman, I can suck up rocks. If you have a dirty mind—” She glanced at the ground, and the dirt around her sucked up into her form, turning her brown. “Unfortunately, I can retain substance for less time, each time, so I will eventually blink out of existence, unless I find true love. Are you the one to give it to me?”

  Jenny was surprised, and she saw that Jeremy was too. This was a different girl, and a different approach. “I don’t know,” the werewolf said. “Will you speak the words?”

  “No.”

  Jenny and Jeremy were startled. “No?” he asked.

  “Not unless it’s true. As yet I hardly know you, so I can’t love you.”

  “She could be the one,” Jenny murmured. “She’s honest.”

  “But my curse requires the woman to come to me,” Jeremy said. “I can recognize her only if she approaches me with love.”

  A muddy tear formed at Miss Succubus’s eye. “I can say that I wish it to be so, and that I hope to be the one. But I can’t say—”

  Jeremy stood and stepped out of the boat. He took the woman in his arms. “Can you say that you feel it at least a little?” he kissed her.

  “Oh, yes!” she replied after a moment. “A little feeling, and a lot of longing.”

  Jeremy looked sad. “But now I know you are not the one. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too,” she said, her whole face turning muddy. She turned and walked away.

  “I hate this!” the prince swore. “I hate what I did to her. But it was the only way to know.”

  Jenny wiped away a tear of her own. “The only way,” she agreed.

  He returned to the boat and resumed his seat.

  The next woman was distinctly unimpressive. Her features were plain, her hair was straggly, and her dress was nothing much. “I am the Iron Maiden,” she
said. She lifted her right hand, which carried an iron. “I can iron anything. I’m a good, dull, housewife.”

  “It’s a useful skill,” Jeremy said courteously.

  “My other form is different,” she said. Suddenly she was made of iron, with metallic features and a short sword where the iron had been before. “If you need some fighting to be done—”

  This was a surprise. But Jenny saw that this was in some respects an ideal woman, with both domestic and combat skills.

  “Say the words,” Jeremy said.

  “I love you and want to—”

  “You are not the one. I’m sorry.”

  “I suspected that,” the Iron Maiden said sadly. “I hope you find the right one.” She departed.

  “Some of these are nice girls,” he muttered. “I would have been satisfied with either of the last two.”

  “They are people, as well as women,” Jenny agreed. She was increasingly impressed with the werewolf prince’s humanity. He was truly searching, and did not like hurting others. But if none of the women here was the one, how would he escape the Isle?

  A woman came running from left field. “Danger! Danger!” she cried.

  Voracia stepped up to intercept her. “Are you trying to break into the line, Krissica? Wait your turn.”

  “No! There’s something horrible happening,” Krissica exclaimed, her feet moving as if she couldn’t stop running. “Things are trying to—to—it’s awful!”

  “Wait your turn!” Voracia repeated, her bra and panties forming into metallic armor.

  “But this is serious,” Krissica said.

  Voracia put her hands on Krissica’s shoulders, making her stand still. “What is happening?”

  “They’re—they’re fighting,” the woman gasped. “And summoning storks!”

  “You mean men are invading the Isle?” Voracia demanded.

  “No! Women are fighting women. And—”

  “Girl, you’re not making any sense. We don’t fight among ourselves. And we certainly don’t summon storks by ourselves.”

  “This sounds like real trouble,” Jenny murmured to Jeremy. “And Voracia’s being balky instead of checking into it. Maybe we should check.”

  “But we have no authority here.”

  “Somebody needs to do something, just in case it really is serious. Fighting and stork summoning? That can’t be ignored.”

  Jeremy nodded. Then he stood and stepped out of the boat, striding forward. “This bears investigation,” he said. “Krissica, show the way.”

  The woman turned and ran back the way she had come. Jeremy and Jenny followed. The three kings and Breanna remained asleep in the boat.

  “Who gave you authority to decide anything?” Voracia demanded, running after them.

  He spared her a cursory glance. “Do you have any other active princes on the Isle?”

  “No, but—”

  “Do you have any princesses?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then I rank you. I am trained to act when action is necessary, and it may be necessary now. If it is a false alarm, we will return to the boat and resume interviewing.”

  Voracia opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Jenny was too busy running to look smug. The prince had shut her up. Because he was indeed a prince, a leader of people.

  He glanced at Jenny. “We had better hurry. Get on.” He changed to wolf form and veered close to her.

  Jenny leaped, grabbing fur. She drew herself up onto his back as he charged forward, passing Krissica. “We’ll check on it!” Jenny called back to her.

  They ran to the beach, and stopped. Jeremy changed back to manform as Jenny dismounted. There was something peculiar happening. Plants were writhing, two by two. At the edge of the water, seaweeds were wrestling. Crabs were entangled with each other, trying to pinch off each other’s heads while at the same time putting their bodies together. Insects were trying to sting each other while trying to do something else. Two women were fighting while stripping off their own clothes. Two birds flew in from nearby trees. Suddenly they tried to join together, while savagely pecking each other.

  “What can this be?” Jeremy asked.

  “It looks like hate—and love,” Jenny said. “As if they drank from a hate spring and love spring. As if they are trying to kill each other while signaling the stork. But of course that’s nonsense.”

  Jeremy turned to Krissica, who was just catching up. “Are there any love or hate springs on the Isle?”

  “No!” she gasped. “But it sure looks as if—”

  “Are there any on nearby isles?”

  “Yes, on Selfish Steam Isle. It has springs of every kind. Folk go there to feel better or worse about themselves.”

  Jeremy gazed across the sea. There was a neighboring island with a cone in its center, belching smoke and vapor. “I think those springs have been heated to vapor. We are suffering an invisible cloud of love and hate elixir. So anything caught in it has a love/hate relationship with its closest neighbor.”

  “Yes!” Krissica agreed. “That must be it.”

  “We must take immediate action, because we don’t know which way that cloud is moving. It could settle on the center of the Isle and ruin it. Krissica, go fetch as many women as you can, with bags. They must scoop up colored dust and bring it here.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, and ran off.

  Voracia arrived. Jeremy hardly glanced at her. “Voracia—go gather all winged creatures on the Isle. Bring them here as fast as possible.”

  “Winged creatures?”

  “Time is of the essence! Do it!”

  She turned and ran off.

  “And we must enlist the help of the kings,” he said. He glanced at Jenny. “Get on.”

  He changed, and Jenny leaped on. He ran swiftly back toward the center of the Isle. This was a side of him she hadn’t seen before, but she realized that it had always been there. He was a prince, and surely had had some princely training, before getting cursed. He was a natural commander, who knew how to take charge in an emergency. This was certainly that.

  They reached the boat, where the others were waking. Jeremy changed to manform as Jenny slid off his back. “Cloud of love and hate elixir,” he said. “I’ve got one crew gathering colored dust, and another assembling winged creatures. Will you help?”

  “I’ll join the winged monsters,” Prince Dolph said.

  “I’ll get the inanimate cloud to identify itself,” King Dor said.

  “I had better go with you,” Bink said.

  “For sure!” Breanna agreed, for some reason.

  Dolph became a roc bird, and the two other kings grabbed onto his feet as he spread his wings and took off. The werewolf bounded back toward the shore. Jenny and Breanna were left behind.

  “What can we do?” Breanna asked.

  “Maybe direct traffic,” Jenny said. “We can use the boat.”

  They got in the boat. “Do you know where the colored sands are?” Jenny asked. The boat was silent, and she realized that it couldn’t talk when Dor wasn’t present. But she hoped it could hear. “Take us there.”

  The boat splashed out of the pond and ran through the forest. It did seem to know where it was going. They passed a woman on her way somewhere. “Hey, Molly Coddle!” Breanna called. “We’re on a mission to save the children from something dreadful. We can use your help.”

  The woman quickly joined them in the boat, and they hastily explained about the deadly invisible cloud.

  They reached the colored sands section. A number of women were filling bags of it, but they were heavy. “Pile them in here!” Jenny called. “And come along; we have to hurry before that cloud moves.”

  The women did so, filling the boat. It ran on, slewing somewhat as it navigated curves, and came to the beach.

  “Ho, ho!” a voice said, seeming from the air. “I’m going to put you into a killing mating frenzy!”

  “Screech to a halt!” Jenny yelled at the boat. “That’s the e
dge of the cloud talking, thanks to King Dor’s presence. Don’t cross into it.”

  A figure bounded through the woods toward them. It was Jeremy in wolf form. He changed in mid stride to manform. “Give the bags to Prince Dolph,” he said. “Better yet, stay in the boat; he’ll pick you up.”

  Then the roc appeared. The huge feet reached down, took hold of the boat, and lifted it into the air as the wings kept the bird hovering. The downdraft was fierce, blowing the women’s hair across their faces, but they seemed too distracted to notice.

  “It’s all right,” Jenny said reassuringly. “Prince Dolph won’t let us drop.”

  They rose up high over the Isle. Then the roc squawked. “Same to you, birdbrain!” the invisible cloud responded.

  Guided by that sound, the roc flew directly over it, then circled in place. “Dump the dust!” Jenny cried, realizing what it was for.

  They opened their bags and emptied them over the sides. The dust wafted down onto the cloud below, and the vapor became visible. It had a certain cohesion, so that the dust tended to stick to its edges, outlining it as a huge blob.

  “Now we can see it,” Jenny said. “Now we can blow it away.”

  The roc flew down beyond the edge of the cloud and set down the boat. Then it flew to join the winged monsters of the Isle. All of them were rather pretty women; the term “monster” referred to a type rather than being derogatory. They watched as the creatures anchored themselves to the ground and began flapping their wings strongly. They made a draft that pushed against the cloud.

  “Hey, watch what you’re doing!” the cloud protested.

  “We are,” Jenny called back with satisfaction. “We’re blowing you away.”

  And slowly, with continued effort, they did just that. They blew the cloud away from the beach and the Isle, until it drifted offshore. Finally it got caught in a natural wind, and was swept away. The dire threat was over.

  The women went limp with relief. Some went to the aid of the ones who had been caught in the awful vapors, and who were no longer trying to do anything deadly or obscene to each other.

  Jenny, Breanna, Jeremy, and the three kings returned to the boat, and the boat waddled back toward the center pond. “That was good thinking on your part,” King Dor told the werewolf.

 

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