by Ann Charles
“Damn,” Doc said. “We forgot to put a coin in its mouth to test the myth.”
I grimaced. “I wasn’t going near those teeth.”
“That’s some weird shit,” Cooper said, rubbing the back of his neck. “One minute it’s a huge pile of flesh and bones and teeth, the next it’s nothing more than dustpan filler.”
“Tell me about it.”
Kill me, the raspy voice said.
I turned back to the cocooned body. “Did you guys hear that?”
“Hear what?” Doc asked.
When I looked at Cooper, he shook his head. “I’m not hearing anything.”
I walked over to the cocooned body, leaning closer.
Kill me, I heard again. Kill me. Kill me. Kill me.
I pointed at it. “It’s coming from this.”
“What’s it saying?” Doc joined me.
“First, when we were in the other room, I heard it say, ‘Help me.’ Now, it’s saying ‘Kill me’ over and over.”
“You’re sure it’s coming from this?” Doc pointed down at the cocoon.
I nodded. “It’s a Nachzehrer in the making.” I shivered, aware of the whole horrifying process taking place under the layers of cocoon.
“There must be just enough of the human left in it to realize what’s going on,” Doc said.
My eyes watered. “What a horrible way to die.”
“And then to feel that bastard eating on you.” Cooper cursed under his breath, muttering something about “fucked-up shit,” and walked over to the worktable. He started poking at some of the tools with the end of his baton.
Doc looked at me. “You know you’re going to have to take care of this one, too.”
I groaned. This was different. Inside that cocoon was some poor soul who still seemed to have an ounce of humanity left.
Leaving Doc standing there, I moved under the light bulb, frowning up at it. “Where’s this electricity coming from?”
“Good question,” Doc said. He joined me and we traced the cloth-covered wire over to a thick steel plate covering a hole in the wall behind the worktable.
Hey, I knew that steel plate! “That leads to the back room in Jones’ Taxidermy. Reid and I were looking at the other side of this yesterday.” I touched the cloth-covered wire. “It’s knob-and-tube …” My voice trailed off as I tried to make sense of it.
“What is it, Parker?”
“So, Garth, or one of his ancestors, must have known that this cave was here. Does that mean Garth is an other?” I shook my head. “No, he couldn’t be. I would have sensed that somehow. Unless he’s the bounty hunter and very good at cloaking.”
Doc walked over to a hole carved high into the rock wall. He aimed his light into it.
If Garth wasn’t the bounty hunter, how could he not know about what was behind the steel pl …
“Hey, Killer,” Doc called, his voice scratchier than normal. He pulled out a small, clear glass decanter with a fat base and a cork stuffed in the opening. “Take a look at this.”
As I stepped closer, he shined his flashlight through the glass. Inside, it was partially filled with what looked like white rice. But on closer inspection, the rice pieces were moving. Vibrating. Twitching.
“What the hell are those?” Cooper asked, peering over my shoulder.
Kill me, I heard again from the cocooned body.
I reared back, bumping into Cooper, who grabbed my shoulders to steady me.
“Oh, Jesus,” I whispered. “Those are Nachzehrer eggs.”
Doc carefully set the glass decanter on the worktable and we all took a step back from it.
“We need to get out of here,” I said.
“Not yet.” Cooper pointed at the cocooned body. “That thing will be roaming the hills next if you don’t finish the job.”
“But it’s not fully turned.” I shook my head, clutching Doc’s coat sleeve. “There’s still a man in there.”
“Not really,” Doc said. “It’s too far gone to ever be human again.”
I looked from Doc to Cooper and back. Both wore haunted expressions.
We all knew what I had to do.
My gut sank. Returning to the cocoon, I stared down at where the head most likely was.
“Goddammit,” I whispered, blinking the tears from my eyes.
“Violet,” Doc said, “if you want, I can help with—”
“No.” I sniffed. “Enough of this shit.”
Keeping my eyes open, I swung the ax.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“And then what happened?” Aunt Zoe asked, looking up from her notebook.
Once again, we were sitting around her table, enjoying a few nightcaps while we rehashed the evening’s events with her. Only the word “nightcaps” made it sound sexy and sophisticated, when in truth I’d stumbled over the threshold earlier and quickly locked the door behind us. If I’d had a metal portcullis to block the entryway and a drawbridge to raise, I would have.
“Then the cocoon and the body within it turned to dust,” Doc told her, sipping on the hot buttered rum Harvey had set in front of him a moment ago.
“Same as the other Nachzehrer,” I added.
Doc pushed back from the table. “I’m going to go check on the kids and say good night. Be right back.”
“What about that voice you kept hearing?” Natalie asked after Doc had left, scooping out a bowl full of caramel corn from the huge tin in the center of the table.
Aunt Zoe had made the kids’ favorite Saturday night treat, even though it was Sunday. With Martin Luther King Jr. holiday tomorrow, they had a three-day weekend, so she’d let them eat and be merry a little later tonight before shipping them off to bed. I’d stopped by their rooms long enough to steal kisses before hopping in the shower to wash the last of the Nachzehrer puke off of me. Now, sitting here in my fleece pajamas, surrounded by friends and family, I could almost forget that I’d killed not one, not two, but three Nachzehrer tonight.
I scooped some caramel corn from the tin, too. “It was the end of the voice, as well,” I told Natalie.
She winced. “What a horrifying way to go out.”
Harvey set down two more mugs of hot buttered rum—one in front of Aunt Zoe and the other in front of me. “So, you think ya got every last one of those buggers?”
“I hope so.”
The old boy scowled. “Ya should have saved one for me and Bessie.”
Cooper, Doc, and I had hightailed it out of the cave after delivering that final ax chop. We’d been more than ready to breathe fresh air and escape from all of those creepy, stuffed monsters in the outer cavern. Natalie and Harvey had been waiting with guns drawn when we’d come crashing down the hillside. While Natalie had been happy to see us, Harvey had looked a little put out, telling Cooper that he’d wanted a chance to fill a Nachzehrer with some hot lead. On the drive home, he’d gone on to complain that he’d felt left out, since he’d not gone along to hunt a single long-limbed bastard with me, unlike everyone else.
“I’m sorry we didn’t save one for you,” I told him. “But we did save the eggs. You want me to let you play with those? They sort of look like maggots.”
Harvey shuddered, making a gargling sound in his throat. “When the Rocky Mountains go flat.” He returned to the counter where Cornelius was pouring hot buttered rums.
To my surprise, Cornelius had been waiting here at home with Aunt Zoe when we’d arrived. After the party, he’d caught a ride here from Rosy, the camerawoman who’d helped film much of tonight’s premiere episode of Paranormal Realty, not wanting to walk without his cane. When he’d arrived, he’d told Aunt Zoe he figured we’d be returning with a tale to tell, and he’d been right.
According to him, Jerry had come around looking for me after I’d left. Cornelius—in all his wisdom—had explained that my root chakra was blocked, causing me to be constipated, so I’d needed to leave the party and go work on “flushing out” the problem.
When I’d heard Cornelius’s ex
cuse, I’d considered giving his root chakra a swirlie in the toilet. However, he went on to clarify that Jerry had promptly ended his search for me and hurried away, so I just rolled my eyes and crossed my fingers that Jerry never asked me for more “flushing” details.
“Where did you put the eggs?” Cornelius asked me.
“Cooper took them.”
He’d left the taxidermy shop with them, promising to store them in a safe place for now. Since I wasn’t interested in keeping them anywhere near my two curious children, who had a history of shoving peas and Tic Tacs up their noses and in their ears, I was happy to have them somewhere other than here.
“Why didn’t you guys just destroy them right there in the cave?” Natalie asked.
“Because we weren’t sure how,” I told her. “Aunt Zoe, do you have any ideas how to get rid of them?”
She shrugged. “I suppose you could try burning them.”
“Yeah, but burning didn’t work for a live Nachzehrer, so we thought it might not work for the eggs, either.”
“That’s true.” She rubbed her chin. “I suppose Masterson might have an idea, but the last thing we want is for him to know we have them. He tends to like to keep troublemakers as pets.”
I nodded. “That was our thought, too.”
“I suppose you don’t want to take any chances with doing the job wrong.” Natalie stuffed a handful of caramel corn in her mouth.
“You could drown them in a bottle of whiskey,” Harvey suggested, setting two more mugs of hot buttered rum down at the table, this time in front of Natalie and his own chair. “Enough hair of the dog will kill anything. Hate to waste the whiskey, though.”
“Yeah, but maybe they like whiskey,” I said, taking a sip of the sweet buttered rum, which warmed me from the inside out. “For all we know, it could start the growth process.”
Cornelius joined us at the table with two more drinks. One he set in the middle of the table. The other he sipped.
“Who’s that for?” I asked, pointing at the one in the middle. Was Reid coming over?
Natalie plucked a piece of popcorn from her bowl. “Coop is on his way. His shift is over. He radioed in on the walkie-talkie while you were in the shower.”
“Maybe we could freeze them for a length of time, starve them of oxygen,” Aunt Zoe suggested.
“Yeah.” I cringed. “But look at how things often ‘wake up’ after being frozen for hundreds and thousands of years.”
“Like what things?” Aunt Zoe asked.
“Like other things that perform cell reproduction after being plucked from the ice in the Antarctic.”
Natalie snorted. “You’re talking about the movie The Thing, aren’t you?”
“No. Maybe.” There could be truth to that. Hadn’t Layne recently told me about some documentary on the permafrost melting in the Arctic Circle, citing something about there being potential viruses waiting there that could give modern humans some trouble? Or had I dreamed that?
Doc returned, scooping up some caramel corn before sitting down next to me. “What are we talking about?”
“Getting rid of those eggs. So far, we’ve covered burning them, drowning them in whiskey, and freezing them.”
“I say we take them into the dark and leave them somewhere else,” he said.
“Another realm?” Aunt Zoe tapped her pen against her cheek. “But doesn’t that open up the risk of someone else finding them there? Someone looking to cause more trouble?”
Doc shrugged. “The dark is vast. It could take a long, long time for anyone to stumble onto them.”
“We could leave them with that banshee,” Harvey tossed out. “She could sing them lullabies night after night.”
I groaned. “I hope to never run into her again.”
Knock knock knock.
We all looked over at the back door. Cooper stood outside, pointing down at the doorknob.
Harvey hurried over and opened the door for him.
“The front door is locked,” he told us, taking off his coat and hanging it by the back door. He stopped by the kitchen sink and washed his hands before joining us at the table.
“That was me,” I told him, lifting my mug. “I’m feeling a bit paranoid tonight.”
Doc frowned at me. “Because of the eggs?”
“Because of the bounty hunter.” I looked at Cooper. “Did you find anything out about Garth’s history?”
He shrugged and took the chair next to Natalie. “Only the regular stuff—date of birth, location of birth, driver’s license information. He’s got no crimes on record beyond a single speeding ticket from ten years ago.” He reached forward and grabbed the mug of hot buttered rum, raising his brows at Natalie in question, who nodded back. “I don’t think Jonesy is your bounty hunter.”
“So, you believe it’s just a coincidence that his shop abuts that cave and powers it with electricity?” Aunt Zoe asked, her brow lined.
“Probably not.” Cooper stole a piece of caramel corn from Natalie’s bowl. “But I think he might not have been the one who had anything to do with it.”
“What do you mean?” Natalie asked.
“I did some searching on his grandfather, old Jeb Jones. Turns out that he met his demise when his shotgun jammed while he was out hunting in the hills behind the shop. It blew up in his face—well, blew off his face to be more accurate, and took half of his head with it.”
Harvey sucked air through his teeth. “That’s a quick way to change out yer banjo for a harp.”
Doc nodded. “So, that’s who you’ve seen roaming around there.”
“It appears so.” Cooper took a drink of the rum.
“And this half-headed specter,” Cornelius said while inspecting a piece of popcorn. “It showed you the location of the cave?”
Cooper nodded.
“Hmmm.” Cornelius looked across the table at Doc. “Did the specter try to reach out to you at all at any time you were in or near the taxidermy shop?”
“No.” Doc’s mouth tightened. “Nor could I pick up its scent.”
Now that was odd. Normally, Doc was a bloodhound when it came to ghosts, and they flocked to him because of it. “What do you make of that, Cornelius?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Something certainly feels peculiar about this ghost. Maybe we can do a séance in that cave of horrors and see if we can draw it out.”
“No!” Doc, Cooper, and I all rejected the idea in unison.
I didn’t know about the other two, but Cornelius would have to drag me there in a straitjacket. I had my limits, and that cave was well beyond them.
“We’re going to need to do something about that place and all of the creatures you three saw in there,” Aunt Zoe said. “We can’t let anyone else stumble across that.”
“Maybe this is something Mr. Black could help with,” I suggested. “Along with getting rid of the eggs. I could try to contact him in the morning.” I wasn’t sure how, but Eddie Mudder seemed to have a direct line to him.
“Where did you put the eggs?” Aunt Zoe asked.
“Somewhere safe,” Cooper said. “Trust me, until we figure out what to do with them, they’re locked up tight.”
I was sort of leaning in the direction of Doc’s idea—removing them from this realm. That or shipping them into outer space, along with my sister. Just knowing the eggs were close by made me nervous. I crossed my fingers that I didn’t dream about them tonight. Those tiny suckers were fodder for horrific nightmares.
“So, how was the premiere party?” Aunt Zoe asked me. “Besides the part about the Nachzehrer showing up in the bathroom window.”
“To be honest, I don’t know. I missed the actual show and was only there for about ten minutes after it was all over.”
“I recorded it,” she said with a smile. “The kids and I watched it and thought you might want to rewatch it eventually. Your children were bouncing at the sight of you on the television screen.”
“I’m glad they enjoyed it, but �
��” I made a face. “Maybe I can handle watching it some night after a few tequila shots.”
“There are going to be two more shows, right?” Natalie said.
“Yeah, but Jerry’s not planning on having a party for those.”
“Are you sure?” Doc asked.
“No, but he hasn’t mentioned anything about it.”
“He probably wanted to wait to see how tonight’s shindig went,” Harvey said.
“God, I hope you’re wrong,” I said, taking another drink from my mug. Thinking about Jerry reminded me of Ray and his note. What the hell was that about, anyway?
“So, what about the bounty hunter?” Natalie asked. “If it’s not Garth, then who is it?”
I looked around at each of them. “We’ll have to keep our eyes and ears open, I guess.”
“Maybe it left this plane again,” Aunt Zoe said, scribbling something on the page.
“I doubt I’m that lucky.”
“We need to check on that particular traveler’s clock,” Doc said. “Doesn’t Mr. Black have that one?”
“I can’t remember.”
“So, we’re stuck waiting.” Natalie sighed. “I hate waiting.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that about you,” Cooper said, his grin flirty as he captured her fingers and lifted them to his lips. Meanwhile, he reached out with his other hand and stole more popcorn from her bowl.
“You dirty law dog,” she joked, catching his other hand and forcing him to put the stolen popcorn in her mouth. She held on to his hand, taking extra care to suck the caramel off his fingertips.
He gulped visibly.
Harvey watched the two of them with puckered lips, then snorted and turned to Aunt Zoe. “I think I’m gonna need to crash on your recliner again tonight, Zoe.”
She nodded without looking up from her notebook. “It’s all yours, Willis.”
Cornelius took another drink from his mug, licking his upper lip afterward. “Did you know that hot buttered rum dates back to the colonial days? Early Americans believed rum had medicinal properties that would strengthen the body. Turns out they weren’t wrong. Rum is good for the heart and arteries. It’s also good for the bones, alleviates arthritis, and can be used to clean wounds.”
