by Gary Jonas
She didn’t argue. She put her foot in my hands, and I rose up hard, tossing her over the fence.
I kicked backward, smacked a dead guy in the chest. He flew backward into another corpse.
I dropped low, did a quick foot sweep to take down the closest dead person.
“This is going to suck,” I said, and punched a corpse in the face. Flesh and nastiness coated my fist. “Gross!”
I shook the gunk off, and grabbed two more dead people by the heads, slammed them together. Their skulls cracked like a Louisville slugger connecting with a baseball. The skulls shattered, and pieces of bone dropped to the ground. I let the bodies fall.
I vaulted over the fence and pressed myself against the cold stone of the tomb.
Dead people tried to reach through the fence, but their fingers couldn’t quite reach me.
“You people are nasty,” I said.
I reached out, grabbed a guy’s arm, and wiped my hand on his suit coat. Then I gave the arm a savage twist, breaking the bones.
Tara had eased around to the side of the tomb. “They’re still coming.”
“No sweat,” I said. “They can’t climb the fence.”
As I spoke, one girl tried to climb over. Two corpses helped her, but the spikes at the top drove deep into her gut. Two corpses crawled up and over her. I jumped forward, punched the first guy hard. His head snapped back, then the skull dropped off the body and bounced off the shoulder of another dead dude. I lost track of where it went.
I shoved the dead girl up and over, taking the corpses with her. I’ll spare you the sound of the spikes pulling free from her gut.
The other dead guy tried to grab me, but I blocked his arms, and pulled his head off. I shoved the body to the ground, and held the skull up.
“Alas, poor Yorick,” I said, “I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, and even more stench.” I drop-kicked the skull over the spikes.
Another guy grabbed me through the fence. I took his hand, yanked it off, then rammed forward, breaking his arm.
“They’re going to get through,” Tara said.
“Get on top of the tomb,” I said.
I helped her first, then gripped the edge and pulled myself up. Pain tore through my shoulder, and I found it hard to breathe for a moment.
“I don’t have any spells that will work on dead bodies,” she said.
“That’s all right,” I said, and pointed. “We have Kelly.”
And sure enough, Kelly jumped, kicked, punched, flipped, spun, and whirled her way through the reanimated bodies. Corpses flew, smashed, shattered, splatted, and crunched. Kelly grabbed the final guy, whipped him over in an arc, and impaled him on the spikes. The corpse twitched a few times then went still.
“You all right?” she asked, standing over scattered bones and drenched in viscous fluids.
“Rockin’ and rollin’ as always,” I said, climbing down from the tomb.
I helped Tara down, using my left arm. I kept my right at my side. I doubt it looked natural, but no one called me on it.
“Paul Tanner got away,” Kelly said.
“Damn,” I said.
“But, we have his wife,” she said, gesturing to a corpse trapped behind another fence.
“Cool.”
I opened the gate so Tara and I didn’t have to climb over the fence.
“Watch where you step,” Kelly said.
“This is disgusting,” Tara said, jumping over pieces of dead bodies.
I looked Kelly up and down. “You need a shower,” I said. “In fact, I don’t know how we’re going to get you in the hotel.”
“Do you think anyone there can stop me?”
“No.”
“There you go,” she said.
“So you let Paul get away.”
“He’s dead. And he’s magical. I tried to rip his head off, but it wouldn’t budge.”
I glanced at Tara. “She means that in the literal sense, just so you know.”
Tara looked at the mess around us. “I’m glad I’m on your side,” she said.
I walked over to Sarah and opened the gate so she could come out.
She grimaced as she walked.
“Are you in pain?” I asked.
“Always.”
“Even though you’re dead?”
She nodded. “Please find a way to kill me permanently. Please, please, please.” She dropped to her knees as she pleaded.
“Somehow, I think the abuse started before you died.”
She nodded again. “You have no idea.”
Kelly fumed. “We can imagine.”
Considering Kelly’s rage, Paul must have had some seriously powerful magic coursing through his undead veins.
Tara approached Sarah. She put a hand on Sarah’s shoulder, and the dead woman flinched away in pain.
“Sorry,” Tara said.
“Can your mother help?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
I crouched in front of Sarah. “How did your husband manage to do this to you?”
She held up her left hand and pointed to her wedding ring.
“So take it off,” I said.
“I tried.”
I gripped the ring, twisted it, and Sarah cried out in pain.
I let go.
“Kelly?” I said.
Kelly frowned. She took hold of the ring and pulled. Sarah screamed again.
“I’m going to have to take the finger,” Kelly said. She pulled a knife from her boot.
Sarah threw herself against the fence, gripping the iron posts. “No,” she said. “Please, no.”
“It will only hurt for a few minutes,” Kelly said. “We can destroy the ring, and your spirit will be free.”
“If only.”
Tara frowned and reached for Sarah’s hand. She examined the way the ring bit into the finger. “Her spirit is trapped inside the ring,” Tara said.
As she spoke, Emmanuel rose out of the ground behind her and tried to jump into her body.
I say tried.
Esther was on guard, and as Emmanuel jumped in the back, Esther entered in the front, tackling him out of Tara’s body.
Tara jerked one way then the other and fell to the ground.
Esther punched Emmanuel in the face time and again.
“No means no,” she said. Pow.
Emmanuel dropped into the ground, but Esther grabbed hold of him, pulled him out and threw him against the fence.
Iron is not good for ghosts.
He hollered as the fence split him into pieces. He reformed on the other side, and leaped into the closest tomb.
“We’ll deal with him later,” I said to Esther.
“And how.”
“You showed him.”
“And I’ll show him again.” Esther smacked her ghostly fist into her translucent hand.
“Without a host, his options are limited,” Tara said. “He’ll be here at the cemetery or near the gris-gris bag he created when he was alive.”
“Can we get rid of him by burning the bag?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Normally, I’d say yes, but he managed to possess me in spite of my protection, so I’m not sure. He shouldn’t be able to do that.”
“It’s my husband,” Sarah said. “He killed himself in a ritual designed to give him immortality of a sort, but he’s in a state between life and death.”
“An undead wizard,” Kelly said. “Great.”
“Also an undead FBI agent,” I said. “But how did he come up with the ritual?”
Tara sighed. “Papa Simon probably taught it to him.”
“Oh, I’m looking forward to meeting him,” I said.
“He’s indestructible,” Tara said.
“Him and Paul both,” Sarah said.
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Kelly said with a grin.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
My hotel was on the way to Madame Rousseau’s house, so we stopped there to shower and change clothes, because who wants
to go into someone’s house with blood, bits of skin, and other detritus on them?
Veronica, the desk clerk, spotted us as we came through the revolving door into the lobby. She did a double-take, then tapped the employee she’d been speaking with and directed his attention our way. Reginald stood behind them, and waved to me.
I gave Reginald a nod.
The other employee reluctantly approached. “Hello,” he said. “I’m Tom, the concierge here.”
“Don’t sweat it,” I said. “We’re guests.”
“Oh my.”
Kelly started past him, but he rushed to follow her.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, looking at her filthy clothes, and blood-streaked face. “What is that in your hair?”
Kelly stopped, combed her fingers through her hair and looked at the chunk of gunk she pulled free. She turned it over, shrugged, and said, “Brain matter.”
She tossed it to him, and he instinctively caught it, then danced away, tossing it to the floor. “Oh my God!” He shuddered and stared at the piece of brain on the tiled floor.
I pointed to it. “Might want to clean that up so no one slips on it.”
“Veronica!” he called. “Can you call a janitor? I’m not touching that again.”
He looked at Sarah as she passed him, and he cringed, shrinking away from her. He turned a full circle as he headed back to the desk.
The elevator doors swished open, and we stepped into the car leaving them to wonder what they’d just witnessed.
Kelly went to her room. “I’ll grab a shower, put on some clean clothes, and be over in a few,” she said as she slid her key card into the slot. The light flashed green, and she pushed the door open.
Three gunshots sounded.
“Mother fucker,” Kelly said, and stormed into her room.
Tara screamed and started to run, but I caught her. “It’s all right,” I said. “Kelly’s got this.”
From inside, I heard glass breaking.
I rushed into her room.
A soft warm breeze blew into the room through the shattered window, where Kelly stood looking down. She had her arm out the window, and as she pulled her hand back inside, I realized she’d been flipping off the guy she’d evicted.
Kelly turned to face me. “Son of a bitch shot me,” she said.
“So you, what, threw him out the window and flipped him off?”
“Of course.”
“Didn’t occur to you to hold him here and question him?”
“No,” she said. “But I kept his gun.” She tossed it to me. A nice Glock. “You can have it. Go to your room. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
I ejected the magazine to check the load, then reinserted it, and slapped it home. There was already a round in the chamber.
Esther floated in. “Should I check your room, Jonathan?”
“Sure,” I said, tucking the gun into my waistband at the small of my back.
She walked through the wall, then returned to Kelly’s room. “All clear,” she said.
“Maybe next time we’ll have you check Kelly’s room first, too.”
She nodded.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Kelly asked.
“We might get some answers that way.”
“Spoilsport.”
We left Kelly to get cleaned up and went next door to my room.
“Do you need to shower?” Tara asked.
“I’m not as messy as Kelly,” I said, tugging off my shirt.
Sarah slumped into a chair and put her hands on her stomach. She bent forward.
“You okay?” I asked.
“No.”
“Mama will be able to help her,” Tara said.
“Says you,” Esther said, but didn’t make herself visible or audible to anyone but me.
I went into the restroom, wet a towel, and scrubbed at my arms, hands, chest, and neck.
I looked at the towel.
“Hotels should probably get something other than white towels,” I said. I tossed it on the sink, and grabbed another towel.
“They have white towels because they can be bleached,” Tara said. “Are we going to be safe here?”
I laughed. “I don’t think bleach is going to help. And yes, we’re perfectly safe here.”
“You don’t seem freaked out that someone shot your friend.”
“Did she seem freaked out?” I asked.
“No.”
“Then why should I be freaked out?”
“You weren’t too freaked out last night, either. Does this happen to you a lot? People shooting at you, I mean.”
“Sometimes.”
It took both my bath towels and a hand towel to get clean, but I managed it.
I opened my suitcase and selected a black T-shirt. It would have to do.
“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” Tara asked, pointing.
The red welt was bigger now, and tendrils of blue clawed their way in jagged streaks beneath my skin. Another chill ran through me, as though someone placed an icy hand on my chest. It only lasted a moment.
“It’s nothing,” I said, and pulled the shirt on, trying not to lift my right arm. I sat on the bed.
Tara didn’t look convinced, but I didn’t want to talk about it, so I focused on Paul’s wife.
“How long have you been dead, Sarah?” I asked. “Five years?”
“Almost six.”
“So that’s not your body.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Whose body is it?”
She shrugged.
“Okay,” I said. “Let me ask this another way. Was she alive when you took it?”
She turned in the chair to meet my eyes. “This body was fresh from the morgue.”
“Did Paul kill her?”
“No. She was already dead.”
“Were you with him as a ghost after you died?”
“I didn’t want to be, but yes, I was.”
“So he held you with his magic?”
“He wouldn’t let me go.”
“Do you feel different?”
“I hurt more now.”
“Anything else?”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Do you crave the taste of human flesh or anything?”
“No.”
“Good to know. One more question. Now that you’re away from Paul, will that wedding ring budge?”
She tried to remove it. “No.”
“Okay. It was worth a shot.”
Tara stood staring out the window. “Cops are here,” she said.
“Checking out the body?”
She nodded.
“They’ll be coming up here in a few minutes then. Esther, can you pop over and tell Kelly the cops responded faster than normal?”
“On it,” she said, and stepped through the wall.
“Your friend just killed that man.”
“Which one was it?” I asked.
“How should I know?”
“You can’t see him down there?”
“Window doesn’t open enough for me to lean out and see. All I can see from here are the reflections of the blue and red lights splashing on the building next door.”
Esther walked back through the wall. “Two minutes,” she said.
“She may have policemen knocking on the door before then.”
“She knows.”
A couple minutes later, Kelly knocked on the door. I let her in. Her hair was still wet, but she wore clean clothes.
“Because I know you’re going to ask, the guy I sent on the swan dive was a big man in black. Blond hair, wide blue disbelieving eyes, and an open mouth. He had silver fillings in two molars.”
“Not helpful.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t ask his name.”
“Well, it was probably Hank, Derek, or Franklin. My money’s on Franklin because Hank seemed to be the leader, and Derek didn’t have a gun, though I suppose he could have picked one up. I remember those
two having darker hair, too.”
“Should we expect another of them soon?”
“Maybe. You’d think Emmanuel would have called off his dogs after the experience in the cemetery.”
“Not unless he gets another body,” Tara said.
“Do tell.”
She frowned. “He can’t use a dead body. He needs someone living. It’s easier if he’s related to them in some way. Family blood. Otherwise, he’ll have trouble with control. He can do it, but it’s harder.”
“And now you’re an expert?” I asked.
“Well, no. It’s just a guess.”
“You have more family in the area?”
“Oh yeah. Aunts, uncles, cousins. Maybe a few nieces and nephews since Emmanuel got around a bit.”
“Do they have the haint blue porches?”
“Of course, but that only helps if they’re at home. Some of them practice the art, but only Mama is full time. The rest of us have jobs. I might not, though. I doubt he went to work while he possessed me. I haven’t called to see. To be honest, I don’t want to know.”
“So at any given time, Emmanuel can just head out and take his pick of a variety of hosts.”
“Pretty much. But only if they’re out and about.”
“Okay,” I said. “Sorry about the job.”
“No big. I was searching for a job when I found that one. Didn’t pay for shit anyway.”
A knock sounded out in the hall.
“Police! Open up!”
They weren’t at our door. They were at Kelly’s room.
“They took their time,” Kelly said. “I could have dried my hair.”
Now a knock sounded at my door. Kelly was closest.
“I’ll get it,” she said. “Keep out of sight.”
She waited until all of us moved over to the beds, which weren’t visible from the entrance. She opened the door.
A police officer stood in the hall. “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. Did you notice anything unusual earlier?”
“No,” she said. “Is everything all right?”
“Is this your room?” he asked. “We show a Jonathan Shade rented this room.”
“He’s my husband,” Kelly lied. “He’s at one of the bars on Bourbon Street right now. Can I ask what this is about?”
“He also rented the room next door.”
“We do that sometimes to help people out. A gentleman with blond hair was distraught, claiming his wife left him and he had no money and nowhere to sleep, so Jonathan, he rented an extra room to help the guy out. Seemed a bit sketchy to me, but I think Jonathan was hoping to get lucky with him later. We have something of an open marriage, and he sometimes bats for the other team, if you catch my drift. He’d like you, too. A strong man in a uniform? Oh yeah. Meanwhile, I happen to love a man in uniform, as well. Can I get your card? Maybe call you later? You look incredibly stout. Maybe you can be my teapot. Or we could have a threesome later. That might be fun. We could have Jonathan watch like the little cuck he is.”
