The Undead Uproar

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Apparently we’re searching for zombies. Chris is convinced the dead are rising from their graves.”

  I had no idea what to make of that. “Wait .... what?”

  Two

  Jack and I arrived at the plane together. The Legacy Foundation was run by an extremely wealthy conglomerate — Chris’s uncle was the head of the group — and one of the perks was a private plane. As someone who had only flown twice in her life before joining the elite team, in coach at that, the plane was still miraculous to me.

  Jack carried our bags to the back of the plane and shoved them in the storage compartment before pointing toward a set of seats at the middle of the aircraft. Millie Watson and Bernard Hill, our technology and equipment guru, were already seated across from us. Millie only smiled when she saw we were together, which made my cheeks burn as I snapped my seatbelt.

  “We’ll go over everything when we’re in the air,” Chris announced as he entered the plane. He had a willowy blonde with him. Hannah Silver was a brilliant scientist who could double as a model. When I first saw her I thought the cosmos were playing a joke on me, but she’s ridiculously competent and easy to get along with. She’s one of those people you want to spend time around even though she often makes you feel inadequate. She and Chris had recently started dating, too, and they were joined at the hip ... and other places. Unlike Jack and me, they’d progressed to the next step and weren’t shy about sharing rooms on assignments.

  I envied them that.

  “No problem,” Jack said as he settled in his seat. “I’m kind of curious about how you’ve leaped to zombies this go-around, so I’m dying to hear all about it.”

  Chris rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a spoilsport right from the start. That’s no way to start a trip.”

  “I’ll try to refrain from letting my zombie doubts ruin the trip for everyone,” Jack replied dryly.

  “I won’t. I’m going to make fun of everyone who thinks it could possibly be a zombie for the entire trip,” a woman announced as she boarded the plane. Laura Chapman was the last member of our group. She was in her thirties, built like a stripper, and had the attitude of a rabid raccoon locked in a garbage can. Her long auburn hair drifted past her shoulders and her eyes immediately sought — and found — Jack as she scanned the plane. The fact that I was sitting next to him clearly didn’t make her happy. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

  “I suggest the lavatory,” Millie replied, her eyes flashing with mirth. She enjoyed messing with Laura. Heck, most of us did. She was the only person in our group I didn’t like. If she left tomorrow, I wouldn’t miss her in the least. In fact, things would be easier if she just quit ... or joined another group.

  “Maybe I’ll sit next to you,” Laura shot back as she cut through the plane. She dragged a large suitcase on wheels behind her. She always over-packed. The idea of a go-bag was foreign to her.

  “I’m afraid the seat next to me is already taken,” Millie said sweetly. “Even if it wasn’t, there would be no room for you.”

  “Whatever.” Laura’s expression was dour as she left her suitcase in the back and then picked a seat at an angle from Jack and me. That meant she could stare at us during the flight, which only made our situation more untenable.

  For some reason — and I had theories as to why — Laura had decided she was hot to trot for Jack and wouldn’t stop flirting with him. She was well aware that we were dating. She was also aware that Jack overtly disliked her. That didn’t stop her from giving chase. Apparently her need to win was greater than her common sense. I didn’t understand her attitude. At all.

  “And how are you, Charlie?” she asked sweetly as she fastened her seatbelt. “Are you having a good day? I certainly hope so. I would hate for you to be uncomfortable and complain for no good reason.”

  I knew what she was referring to and the charge grated. “I didn’t report you to management, Laura. I wish you would stop acting like I did.”

  “I know it was you.” Her eyes were dark. “You’re the reason I’m on probation.”

  “No, you’re the reason you’re on probation,” Jack shot back, his temper coming out to play. “You attacked Charlie in St. Pete. You actually pushed her into shark-infested waters, where she could’ve been really hurt. You did all of this to yourself.”

  “I did not push her into the water!” Laura’s expression was so dark I thought it might actually eat the little bit of sun peeking through the plane’s windows. “Stop saying that. You only believe that because Charlie told you a nonsense story.”

  “Charlie didn’t tell me any story. I was there.”

  “Oh, whatever.” She made a face. “Are we taking off or what?”

  Chris was busy discussing something with the pilot so he didn’t turn around and address the question. In recent weeks he’d taken to ignoring Laura more than acknowledging her presence. Whether he realized it or not, that only served to make her crazier. I was convinced she was one off-the-cuff statement from turning into the kid from The Exorcist and vomiting pea soup on us.

  “We’ll take off when the pilot is ready,” Jack said, leaning back in his seat and staring at the fan above him. “Is it hot and stuffy all of a sudden, or is it just me?”

  “It’s just you,” Laura replied, feigning sweetness. “You can’t help yourself from getting warm all over when you see me.”

  “Are you taking credit for the nauseated feeling as well? That’s good. When I throw up, I’ll make sure it’s all over you.”

  I patted his arm before reaching up and adjusting the air flow so it was pointed directly at his face. “Close your eyes. It will only take us two hours to get to New Orleans. You can take a nap.”

  “That sounds good, especially after our afternoon was ruined.”

  “Oh, really?” Millie grinned as she watched the interaction. “What were you guys doing before the call came in? I hope it was something dirty.”

  “It was.” I nodded. “We were moving my stuff to a second-floor apartment. It was a lot of work and we were both sweaty when we finished.”

  “I’m pretty sure she was talking about a different sort of dirty,” Laura drawled.

  I was well aware of that, but I pretended I didn’t hear Laura. It was for the best, because she was always looking for a reason to pick a fight with me. “I still don’t know how I got the better apartment for no extra money,” I admitted.

  “Just consider yourself lucky,” Millie said.

  “I wouldn’t get too comfortable,” Laura shot back. “Karma is coming after you for reporting me, so that apartment will probably spring a leak by the time you get back.”

  Jack made a disgusted sound deep in his throat as he shifted. “She didn’t report you!”

  “Oh, you’re just standing up for her because you think she’s some tiny bird you need to protect. Admit it.”

  “I’ll admit it.” Jack is not the sort of person who can hide his feelings. When he’s annoyed, it’s written all over his face. He looked as if he was ready to go to war as he opened his eyes and leaned forward. “I’m the one who reported you.”

  Laura didn’t immediately respond, instead blinking several times in rapid succession. “I don’t believe you,” she said finally. “You’re not the type.”

  “I’m not the type to want a professional atmosphere? I think you’re wrong there. That’s all I want. What you pulled with Charlie is unacceptable.”

  “We’re not supposed to date people in our group,” Laura gritted out. “I was doing my duty when I reported you.”

  “And that blew up in your face, didn’t it? Don’t act surprised that the probation order stuck. You’ve wiggled out of punishment multiple times. Perhaps this is your karma.”

  “I’m not the one in the wrong.”

  “Oh, don’t go there,” Millie admonished. “You’re always in the wrong. Besides, Jack isn’t the only one who reported you. I did too.”

  Laura’s mouth dropped open. “You? Why?”

  “
You know why.” Millie winked at me before settling in for takeoff. “Now, shut up, Laura. We’re not even in the air yet and I already want to push you out a window. For once in your life, do the smart thing and shut your hole. We would all appreciate it.”

  “I know I would.” Jack was back to relaxing. “Take a load off, Charlie. We’re going to have to hear zombie stories soon enough. You might as well take a break while you can.”

  I’d heard worse offers.

  CHRIS WAS ENTHUSIASTIC when it came to the paranormal. He was like a child watching a monster movie for the first time. His wonderment always overcame his fear.

  Once the plane was in the air and it was safe to walk around without seatbelts, he convened a meeting in the center of the plane and got straight to business.

  “Four bodies have gone missing from a single New Orleans cemetery in the last week,” he announced gravely as he took his position.

  “I don’t want to be a spoilsport off the bat, but body theft is a real thing,” Jack pointed out. “Bodies are stolen and sold for medical research. Sometimes bodies are stolen for sexual reasons, which I won’t get into because it’s gross. I’m sure you can imagine what I’m talking about.”

  “And I’m officially sick to my stomach,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Why did you have to go there?”

  He slid me an amused look before continuing. “You had better have more than just missing bodies as a reason for ruining what was supposed to be a day off for most of us.” He slid his eyes to Laura and his grin widened. “Except Laura, who has to keep picking up filing duty as penance, I mean. The rest of us were enjoying a well-deserved day off.”

  “Oh, stuff it,” Laura grumbled under her breath.

  Chris ignored the mini-squabble. “I have more than missing bodies. I checked to make sure this wasn’t some sex experiment gone awry. The four bodies range in age from twenty-nine to eighty-four. Two are men. Two are women. No preferential offender — and that’s what an individual who steals bodies for sex is — would be okay with that much variation.”

  “Fair enough.” Jack shuddered. “Let’s talk about something other than having sex with dead bodies.”

  “My body isn’t dead where sex is concerned,” Laura offered.

  I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing at Jack’s annoyed expression. “Go back to the bodies,” I insisted, if only to earn a reprieve from Laura’s desperate maneuvering and the inevitability that Jack would blow his stack. “How did the victims die?”

  “They’re not technically victims,” Chris countered. “The twenty-nine-year-old died in a car accident.” He double-checked his iPad to make sure he had the details right. “The eighty-four-year-old was in a nursing home. He died of Alzheimer’s. Other than that, we have a fifty-five-year-old woman who died of a heart attack and a thirty-four-year-old man who died of a drug overdose.”

  “Oh.” I rubbed my chin as I considered the new information. “Could it be possible that our thief was only interested in one body and stole the other three to cover his or her tracks?”

  Chris looked intrigued. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, let’s just say the intended target was the twenty-nine-year-old and her boyfriend was devastated and decided he wanted to keep her body. He probably knew he would be the prime suspect once the authorities figured out she was gone, so maybe he stole the other bodies as a forensic countermeasure.”

  “I see someone has been watching Criminal Minds for all the buzzwords,” Laura lamented.

  I pretended I didn’t hear her. “I’m not saying that’s definitely how it went down, but it’s a possibility. I don’t see how that points to zombies.”

  “I agree that zombies wouldn’t be my first inclination,” Chris said. “But that’s not the situation we’re dealing with. In fact, that’s the opposite of what we’re dealing with. Our bodies have been seen since they disappeared.”

  “I’m pretty sure there’s a contradiction in there,” Millie offered. “If the bodies have been found, then they haven’t disappeared.”

  “I didn’t say the bodies have been found. I said they’d been seen.”

  His purposeful word choice had me leaning forward. “What are you talking about?”

  “The bodies have been seen after the fact around New Orleans ... and they haven’t been resting on the ground or even propped up on benches. The bodies were seen walking around.”

  I was officially dumbfounded. “Get out!”

  Jack slid me a quelling look. It was almost as if he could sense my anticipation ratcheting up. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he admonished. “We haven’t heard the entire story yet.”

  “I never get ahead of myself.”

  “You always get ahead of yourself,” Jack complained. “I mean ... I like your enthusiasm and how you’re always gung-ho, but you don’t have to believe every story that Chris brings to the group. Zombies aren’t real.”

  “Tell that to Daryl on The Walking Dead,” Millie challenged.

  “Daryl isn’t real.”

  “Oh, he’s real here.” She tapped the side of her head and slid him a sly grin. “He’s all kinds of real.”

  “Oh, geez!” Jack slapped his hand to his forehead and murmured a string of curses that I couldn’t quite make out. He was always the naysayer in our group. I was fine with that. And he wasn’t wrong about me being excited at the prospect of zombies.

  “If the bodies rose from the grave, wouldn’t there be an infestation of them in the city by now?” I asked, hoping the question came off as intelligent rather than ridiculous. “That’s a busy area, right? I’m guessing the whole town would consist of zombies at that rate.”

  Chris’s expression was dubious. “Flesh-eating zombies are not real.”

  “Yeah, Charlie,” Millie teased. “Flesh-eating zombies are nonsense. But there are different types of zombies.”

  This was the first I’d heard anything of the sort. “And what kind of zombies are we talking about?”

  “The voodoo kind.” Chris’s smile widened. “New Orleans is the birthplace of voodoo in America. Those are the types of zombies I’m talking about.”

  I was still confused. “And how are they different?”

  “They’re not different,” Jack replied. “They’re both a bunch of nonsense.”

  “They’re very different,” Chris corrected. “Flesh-eating zombies generally involve people dying and coming back to life. As we all know, this creates certain logistical problems for the zombies because they would deteriorate at such a rate they would be a threat for only thirty days or so. If you could find a place to hole up for a month, you would be perfectly fine.”

  I didn’t as much as blink. “Good to know.”

  “Voodoo zombies are massively different,” he continued. “They stem from Haitian lore. I believe the first story revolves around a plantation owner who wanted free labor, so he reanimated bodies to work his fields.”

  I frowned. “That simply sounds like a fancy way of enslaving people.”

  “I agree. I’ve done a lot of research on voodoo, although there’s surprisingly little out there when it comes to literature. In Haitian lore, zombies are raised from the dead — just like other zombies — but it’s done by a sorcerer called a bokor, who then keeps the zombie under his spell and controls him or her because they have no free will.”

  “That still doesn’t solve the decomposition problem,” I pointed out.

  “No, but this would be done on a much smaller scale,” Chris argued. “Four bodies is not an army. There are plenty more bodies out there for a bokor to resurrect if he’s looking for cheap labor.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite,” Jack interjected. “Where have these bodies that were taken been seen?”

  “Around the French Quarter, which is where all of them lived.”

  “Maybe it’s just a case of mistaken identity.”

  “That’s possible, but the bodies were seen by family members,” Chris explained. “In one in
stance, the estranged wife of the thirty-four-year-old who died from the drug overdose said she saw him standing outside by the gate ... and staring at the house. She ran out to him, convinced there was some sort of mistake, but when she reached him she found his eyes were completely white and she veered at the last moment to save herself.”

  “Save herself from what?” I asked. “You just said this sort of zombie doesn’t eat people, which is a total bummer because I think I would be awesome in a zombie apocalypse. I would definitely survive long enough to rebuild society.”

  Jack’s lips quirked. “I’m glad you have a plan for when the world falls apart.”

  “I’ve got multiple plans.”

  “But we’re not dealing with an apocalypse,” Chris said. “We’re dealing with one person enslaving the abandoned bodies of the deceased. It’s not the zombies we’re looking for as much as the bokor.”

  “Well, that sounds great,” Jack said as he crossed his feet at the ankles and slid me a look. “Charlie probably hasn’t tasted authentic Cajun food. I can’t wait until she has her first bite of gumbo. Oh, and she’ll be hopped up on so much sugar we won’t be able to contain her after some beignets.”

  I had no idea what those were, but I was always keen to try new food. “Bring it on.”

  “We’ll worry about the food later,” Chris admonished. “We’re going straight to the hotel when we land. We’ll talk about a plan after that.”

  “Awesome.” Jack appeared happy to turn away from Chris and focus on me. “How do you feel about crawfish?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried them.”

  “This might be a fun trip after all.”

  That’s what I was hoping for.

  Three

  Our hotel was located directly on Bourbon Street. I let out a little gasp the second I walked into the ornate lobby of the Royal Dauphine. Theatrical? Definitely. The hotel was beautiful, though, and I’d never been to a nicer place.

  Jack was amused as he dropped our bags on the floor. Chris and Hannah were at the front desk securing rooms — apparently the Legacy Foundation had a corporate account with the hotel and it was easy for them to secure lodging on short notice.