by Eros, Marata
Gale came bounding up. “Raul! What the hell?” she shrieked.
“Yes, what the hell,” Garcia repeated dully.
“Why didn't ya wait? Holy crap, we have a live one here! And, he's a murder vic.” Gale slapped her forehead.
“Where's the damn Null?” Garcia shouted to no one in particular, never taking his eyes off the corpse.
That was okay, because the corpse wasn't taking his eyes off me.
Perfect.
Tiff walked up, wiping a shaky hand over her mouth. “Wow. He looks, alive,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“He looks wrong somehow, though,” she said.
And how do zombies look right ? I wondered.
He turned those wet, glittering eyes toward her.
She stepped back. “I think he knows what ya are, Tiff.”
Tiff nodded. “He knows.”
“Why did you wake me?” he asked.
I gulped.
This was the hard part, and I guess the Null had arrived because suddenly the underlying buzz was gone, but the dead I raised was sharp-as-ever, an insistent presence inside my skull.
“I can't do anything with this,” the Null, Williams, said. His palm extended toward the boy victim, now a zombie.
I gave him an unfriendly look, I didn't need this, we were here for answers and Tiff had come unhinged.
The zombie took a menacing step toward the Null and all hell broke loose.
Garcia stepped forward, thinking he was going to restrain the kid-zombie. And in one, fluid motion, guts still bulging out grotesquely, he took Garcia's outstretched arm and using his own momentum, threw him over his shoulder, where Garcia began rolling down the hill toward the police cruiser.
Gale said in a breathy voice, “Oh shit.”
Yeah, that about covered it.
Tiff grabbed my hand and the zombie stopped, his hand balled up on the forensic guy's lab coat. Did they wear those to bed, like pajamas , I wondered wildly, and swung his gaze to me and Tiff. Something about us connecting physically had given him pause.
Gale came forward and the zombie bared his teeth at her and she halted.
Aggressive sucker. I guess if I'd been murdered I'd be pissed too.
Hey. “Let him go,” I said in a low, clear voice.
The zombie let his hand trail down the poor guy's coat and left little gobbets of flesh behind. I guess I'd done a hasty job of construction there.
Maybe I'd do better next time.
“Listen, Gale, this zombie's different.” I said, the zombie looking at each person at the crime scene, taking in their faces.
He was way too thoughtful, too sharp by half for my liking. I could feel my control on him was tenuous at best. I needed to get answers or get him back in the ground. Or both.
“Ya think?” she said, and I was reminded of how young she was. Barely out of the police academy.
I nodded. “I think being murdered has changed something.”
Garcia finally made it back up the hill and the zombie turned on him, hissing.
For cripe's sake. “Stay back, he's different. Violent. I don't know if I can hold him,” I said.
My power strained for control, seeking that connection that once it clicked, like a lock and a key, I had him and he was mine. But right now, I flat-out didn't.
Garcia stopped, grass stains all over his uniform, his hair standing up with dirt in it.
“Ask him!” Gale shouted and the zombie gave her his full attention, the smell of rot so fresh that even I choked on it.
I wanted to puke so bad the back of my throat burned with it.
Garcia and the forensic tech coughed and the Null, disgusted with all of us said, “For God's sake, do I have to do everything?” He lunged forward, all-about-the-moment.
“No!” Garcia said, trying to intervene.
But the zombie leaped forward, meeting Null-boy in a macabre dance, their bodies smacking with a meaty thud right above all the lab equipment.
Geez, this guy was insane. John would have never pulled this.
“Do something, Caleb!” Tiff screamed.
I strode forward, hauling Tiff behind me, her heartbeat struggling for freedom in our sweating palms.
She tripped, and I jerked her up to her feet, amazed by the adrenaline I had surging through my body.
The surge of juice made my moves jerky and sporadic but not the zombie. He was a thing of fluid grace , and was using that while he strangled the Null.
“Stop!” I flung out, sucking off Tiff then looking around frantically for Gale, who practically threw herself at me.
I grabbed her forearm, with absolutely no finesse, flinging out my undead energy like rice at a wedding.
The corpse hesitated, grinding his fingers in the tender flesh on either side of the Null's jugular and as he screamed it came out in a muddled gurgle.
He wasn't stopping.
I let go of the chicks and walked over there, taking him by the shoulder, the flesh giving some under the pressure in a disconcerting way, shifting beneath my hand, sliding.
He slapped my hand away and my arm went numb from palm to elbow.
Hell, that hurt .
I was in control here. I was the necromancer, not him. I wasn't gonna let him kill this guy. Even if he was an asshat.
I bent down on all fours, my jaw hanging over the forehead of the Null, my eyes meeting the zombie's, his fingers continuing their slow crush on the Null, his eyes bulging and an alarming purple hue was taking over.
“Listen to me, stop this.” I was struck by a moment of insight, “ he is not the one that hurt you ... I-I promise.”
I felt utterly ridiculous negotiating with the zombie, but he looked at me, stopping the mindless esophagus trample.
Something about the tone of my voice broke his concentration and he straightened so fast I fell back on my butt, my hands thrown behind me to brace my fall and he flew over the Null with that uncanny grace. Some of the really juiced up ones can.
He landed on my chest, straddling me, while all my breath left my chest in a solid rush and I couldn't take anything in. I gazed into his face.
He jutted his face down to mine and I gagged on the smell, feeling the distention of his bowels pressing against my torso.
I was losing my consciousness, no air, his hot stagnant breath filling my nose.
Then he said the words, “He was like you.”
Who was like me? I thought, the edges of my consciousness getting fuzzy and gray.
There was a commotion behind me and Garcia said, “Let her. What more can go wrong?”
Jade was there in my peripheral vision.
Oh God, no. With a surge of energy I heaved and bucked.
Trying to distract him, feeling her warm hand grasp my shoulder, I threw my hand up behind me and she released my shoulder, catching it midair. Her power bathed me like warm honey, sliding down to that well deep inside me. The part that felt the dead, and I used that now, draining it and heaving it into the zombie.
His head flung back, his mouth open, the teeth standing out in his ruined mouth like a bundle of maggots, and I thought rest.
He threw his body off mine, where he landed, on all fours, squatted down, looking at us for a heartbeat. He turned and scuttled to where the chalk mark was outlined and melded into position.
The ground opened, pouring over him in a smooth ripple, covering him like bugs swarming an anthill, then slowing and moving no more.
“That went well,” Tiff said, the Mistress of Understatement.
“Not really,” Gale said, letting out a shuddering breath.
Williams, the almost-strangled-Null sat up, holding his throat gingerly and the forensic tech came over. “Here—let me see what you have here,” he said, moving Williams neck first to one side, then the other.
The Null put his hands down, and I hissed in a breath. There were fingerprint-sized welts like dirty strawberries marring the flesh of his neck.
He looked over at me. “You could have
waited. That thing about killed me,” he croaked out hoarsely.
My eyes narrowed. “Well, excuse me for living but where were you?” I'd had about all the incompetent adults I could handle for the day.
These were the police? I wasn't impressed.
I looked up at Jade, her eyes burning pools of liquid emerald. “Hey babe, nice you could show up.” I smiled at her, thinking she was a sight for the sorest of eyes.
“What were all the police doing while the zombie tackled ya?” she asked, looking at the adultsʼ faces, everyone dropping their eyes but Garcia.
He looked back at her steadily. “We dropped the ball. Not all my people were in place and things got out of hand.”
I grunted. Out of hand, ya think?
He frowned. “I've come through for you Caleb, cut me some slack. I'm just one guy. I don't think the team knew how fast things can go wrong.”
I did.
Gale said, “Okay, we can point fingers all day and into the night but we need to find out if you figured anything out from him. And,” she pointed to the chalked body that wasn't there, “we're gonna have to dig him out,” she said, rolling her eyes.
I stood up, wiping grass and crap off my ass, pulling Jade over and giving her a soft kiss on the mouth. Right in front of the adults. They could suck it up; my girlfriend had saved the day.
“Hey, why are you here anyway? At a secured crime scene?” The forensic tech asked Jade.
She looked at Tiff, who shrugged.
“I pulsed her,” Tiff said, rocking back on her heels.
I looked down at her, leaning back. “That was speedy.”
“I was close,” she said.
Huh, have to ask why later.
Jade and I walked over to the chalk lines that had outlined the body of the boy.
I looked over at Tiff and she came over too, her hoodie a deep green, her skin echoing the color. She still looked like she wanted to barf out more cookies.
“You okay?” I asked.
She looked at me. “I don't know, it was pretty effed-up I'm not gonna lie.”
Yeah.
I went down on my knees beside the silhouette lines of the body, my hand hovering over ground that was disturbed only by the tech's footprints in the grass.
Gale watched me. “Where is he?”
I twisted my head to the side, looking up at her. “Six feet under.”
She laughed.
I didn't.
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah.” I was all out of comedy for the moment.
Garcia looked back at Jade. “How'd you happen to be so close?” his expression taking in the three of us.
He suspected we'd blabbed. That pissed me off on principle.
She shrugged. “I just was.”
She had a bead on me. Empaths were cool like that.
I smiled down at her and she grinned back.
She had my back. It was just that simple.
Garcia snapped his fingers. “I got it. She's an Empath. There's not much you can keep from her, huh?”
“Pretty much,” I said, smiling without humor.
Everyone was just standing around, so Garcia took things in hand, giving people tasks to accomplish.
Finally, he turned to our loose group. “We still need to go to the original scene.”
Tiff and I groaned. Seriously?
He nodded, seeing our enthusiasm he smiled. “I know it's been a rough start—”
Tiff laughed.
He sighed. “Listen guys, we have to go to the scene straightaway and have you look it over, then we can get the bodies back to the morgue, cataloged, and finally put to rest properly.”
Jade looked a little sick with all the cop-speak. To her, they were still kids. I wrapped her up against my body. “It's okay, we'll do the next part without you.” I whispered in her ear. “Thank you. I love you.”
She looked up at me, her eyes brimming with what she felt for me. “I could feel your fear; I was so scared for you.”
“Me too.”
We looked in each other's eyes, a silent understanding of how close things had come to getting really bad.
Jade looked around. “Okay, I guess I'll take off now, and let you guys, get to whatever you have to do,” she said.
Totally avoiding saying the words: dead bodies.
“How'd you get here?” Tiff asked.
“My bike,” Jade said.
“Pulse me later,” Tiff said.
“Me first,” I said, giving Tiff a Look.
She laughed. “Relax Hart, so territorial.”
I pointed at her. “You got that right.” I grabbed Jade and kissed her one more time.
Gale sighed. “Okay, enough PDAs, let's get movinʼ.”
I waved at Jade and she walked off. I watched her leaving and Garcia watched me.
“Man, you have it bad.”
My gaze slid to his. “Wouldn't you?”
He laughed. “I guess I would, she's a special girl.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
I walked down the hill with Tiff, the cruiser anchored at the bottom. Our ride to another death episode.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tiff and I looked at each other as we pulled up on that dirt road where there was hardly room to park and seeing it narrow, finally disappearing into the trees. That about undid me.
I hadn't returned to this spot since June 13 th (Friday the 13 th to be exact) when the Graysheets lost all sense and came to take me. To do, God-knows-what, but whatever they had in mind, I didn't want .
My friends and I had barely escaped by some lucky helicopter crash and now, through their exposure in the press, I had a break. For how long, I didn't know. Now here I was, back at the old cemetery again to relive the memories.
Garcia's police cruiser slowed, gravel crunching under the tires and slowed to a purring stop. The engine idled and he turned around. “Okay. So, just to be clear: I don't want any corpses raised for the rest of the day.”
Tiff did a slow blink.
I jerked my thumb at her. “She can't.”
“No, but she seems to help a lot.” He turned toward her. “No being an undead assistant today.”
“Hey, whatever, Officer Garcia. But, if things get squirrelly, I'm gonna do what needs doinʼ.”
He sighed, defeated. “Okay, listen, just don't try to do anything.”
We nodded. He knew that was the best he'd get out of us.
We walked up the road, little more than a path where it opened up to the graveyard. The space was as I remembered it but not. It had seemed silvered and gray, standing in the moonlight with the faded picket fence like shattered teeth in a sea of hair. Today, in the late afternoon light it appeared whitewashed, everything different shades of white in the glare from the sun.
Tiff shielded her eyes. “Damn, it's bright.”
I nodded.
Then I saw it, a lone flag of red in between the grave markers like a spot of blood on linen.
“Come on,” I said.
Tiff tramped after me.
There was a whole different crew at this scene, and I didn't recognize anybody.
“Ah, here is our Null for serials,” Garcia said, pointing to a guy that looked like a grown-up Alex.
We said hey.
He stuck his hand out and I instantly liked him more than Williams, who had clearly been a tard.
“John Smith,” he introduced himself, giving me one hard pump. He did the same for Tiff but maybe going a little easier on her hand.
She looked kinda bemused, dropping his hand. “Is that your real name?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh... it seems so common,” she said in that off-hand way of hers.
“Easy to remember,” he answered.
True.
“Okay,” Garcia rubbed his hands together, “let's get started.”
Tiff and I walked the few remaining feet to the body, looking at the others all around, stakes marking their interment positions.
Creepy.
It was Brett's younger brother, laying there at my feet that I couldn't move my gaze from. He spoke the loudest.
I looked at the Null. “You pretty good?”
“I'm a five-point,” Smith said neutrally.
Well hell, that rocked, my eyes widening. “How come you're working for the cops?”
“It's not the money, that's for sure.” He winked while Garcia rolled his eyes.
“Okay you two, get the ball rolling,” Garcia said.
I looked back down at the body, then back at Smith. “I need you to tune out the others.”
“The other cadavers?” he queried with his eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, can you....” I began and his hand reached out, encircling my forearm and Tiff inhaled sharply.
It was instantly silent. I tried to reach out with my fist of power, the fingers of that imaginary hand reaching out like flags whispering on a wind only I could see, but there was nothing.
A hint of a smile appeared on his lips. He had me there. Damn , he was powerful. It also let me know what John would be when he was twenty-five.
I smiled back. “I gotta say, you're doing okay.”
He nodded. “How much?”
“If you can control your focus, say, just to let me hear this one.” I pointed to the body that lay at my feet, the red clothing hanging off bones strung together like monkeys in a barrel.
He nodded, a look of concentration overtaking his face, and just one whisper came to me then, “Rescue me.”
That voice skipped over the surface of my brain, trailing its fingers on a chalkboard and at the same time it felt strangely good.
I shivered.
“What?” Tiff whispered.
I shook my head, bending down, Smith hunkering down beside me. I was in the fog of the undead where background noises didn't interfere with the process.
Garcia started talking and I heard only snippets of it, ... is okay .... can you help ... don't let ...”
The words were swirling, white noise buzzing, because my hand was on that red sleeve, the weave rough underneath my fingertips and a flood of memories came into my mind like a river without a dam:
Extreme dizziness, a spinning thing without end, laughing kids using their feet to push off.
A male [presence] with candy, his face fuzzy... I could almost make it out then it fell out of my vision, the boy turning away, holding... candy...
