City of the Dead

by John Whitman

  holes in their skulls.

  "Mom," he whispered. "Dad. I'm sorry..."

  "Come with us, Zak," his father moaned. "Zak, come with us." The horrible

  image of his father bent close to him, whispering, "Come with us!"

  Zak woke with a start. The image of his dead parents vanished. "It was a

  dream," he said quickly to himself. His window wasn't broken. There was

  nothing there. "It was only a dream."

  Crash! Zak almost screamed as something banged against his window again.

  CHAPTER 4

  Zak waited. There were no more crashes.

  He finally took a deep breath, and trying to be brave, went over to the

  transparisteel window and peeked out. There were no monsters or zombies

  outside. Instead, Zak saw Kairn and a group of boys getting ready to hurl some

  more stones at his window.

  Finally letting his breath out, Zak pressed a button and the automatic

  window unsealed, letting in the cool night air. He leaned out.

  Kairn waved and laughed when he saw Zak. "Sorry about that. I figured

  you'd want to come with us."

  "Where?" Zak asked.

  "Some friends and I are having a little midnight adventure. Into the

  graveyard," Kairn said. "Care to join us`? Unless, of course, you're too

  scared?"

  Zak couldn't resist a taunt like that. "Wait there. I'm right behind you.

  "

  Throwing on some clothes, Zak tiptoed out of his room. He went quietly

  past the rooms of Tash and Uncle Hoole. At the end of the hall, he froze.

  There was Deevee, sitting in a chair at the top of the stairs.

  "The bionic baby-sitter," Zak muttered. "Looks like this will be one

  short trip."

  But as he crept closer, Zak realized that Deevee had shut himself down

  for the night. He would not power up unless someone came in range of his

  sensor field, activating his systems. The field only reached a half meter out

  from the droid's metal body, but Zak still had no desire to get caught by the

  sarcastic droid while trying to sneak out.

  Better not risk it, he thought. There was always the window.

  Zak's room was two levels up from the ground, but the building was

  covered in elaborate, ghoulish carvings. He started down, using the heads,

  arms, and claws of the carved monsters as a weird ladder. He stuck his hand

  into the roaring jaw of a six-legged beast and quietly called down to Kairn,

  "What are these carvings?"

  "Just more legends," Kairn said, holding out his arms, ready to catch

  Zak. "The statues are supposed to frighten away evil spirits. If you ask me,

  they make better handholds."

  On the ground, Kairn introduced Zak to a small group of Necropolitans,

  all about his age.

  "So this is the offworlder that shoved you, huh?" one of them said to

  Kairn. "He doesn't look so brave to me."

  "Yeah," teased another. "I bet he's an easy scare."

  Zak was annoyed. "Are you joking? After the last planet I was on, this

  place is like a vacation."

  "That's just what we wanted to hear!" said Kairn. He lowered his voice to

  a conspiratorial whisper. "But before you can join our group, there's a little

  test you have to pass."

  "Yeah, we're particular about who joins our group," said another.

  "Most people in Necropolis say they don't believe the old legends, but

  they're still scared of their own shadows," Kairn continued. "At the landing

  pad you proved you were a little brave, but we need to make sure."

  Zak scowled. "What kind of test?"

  "Come on, we'll show you."

  Kairn led the group of Necropolitan boys down the winding streets of the

  dark city. Zak followed eagerly. He was on a new planet, walking through a

  gloomy, alien city in the middle of the night with a group of boys he had only

  just met, but he felt at home for the first time in months.

  Zak had lost all his friends when Alderaan was destroyed. Uncle Hoole

  hardly talked to him. Deevee was all right, but he wasn't the kind of friend

  who would help you climb out of your bedroom window in the middle of the

  night. Tash, Zak had to admit, could be a good friend sometimes, but she was

  his sister-so, in his book, she didn't really count.

  But these boys, especially Kairn, reminded Zak of his own group. back on

  Alderaan. They had never caused any real trouble, of course, but they had

  their share of fun. Once, Zak and some of his friends had snuck into the

  teachers' washroom at their school and replaced the mirror with a hologram

  screen programmed to reflect anyone's image exactly-only twenty kilos heavier.

  Snack sales at the instructors' cantina had plummeted until the prank was

  discovered.

  Now, for the first time in half a year, Zak felt like he had a chance to

  have some real fun. He decided instantly that he was going to make the most of

  it. By the time they reached their destination, Zak was laughing and joking

  with Kairn like they were old friends.

  "This is it," Kairn said as they stopped in front of a huge, black

  wrought-iron gate.

  Zak couldn't see beyond the thick mist of Necropolis. "What is it?"

  One of the other boys said ominously, "It's the cemetery."

  "The boneyard," Kairn added.

  "Sacred ground!" said another in his best imitation of Pylum. They all

  laughed.

  But Zak was too awestruck to smile. The cemetery was enormous. Beyond the

  black gates, row upon row of gravestones stretched on forever into the

  darkness.

  "It's huge," he whispered.

  "That's the true Necropolis," Kairn said. "The city of the dead."

  "It's the most popular place in town," one of the others joked. "Everyone

  goes there. Eventually."

  Zak asked, "You mean everyone's buried here? It must be crowded."

  "I suppose, but so far no one's complained," Kairn said, laughing.

  "Here's the challenge. You have to go into the graveyard in the dead of night

  and stand on a grave in the middle of the cemetery."

  "Go in there?" Zak asked hoarsely. He peered through the gate, imagining

  the rows of dead stacked just below the ground.

  "Sure," Kairn said. "What have you got to lose?"

  "His nerve," one of the others teased.

  Zak considered. "If I accepted, what else would I have to do?"

  Kairn grinned. "Not much. Just get to the middle of the cemetery and

  back."

  Zak peered through the iron gates. The mist made it hard to see. Through

  the drifting clouds of gray fog, he could just barely make out the first line

  of headstones in the darkness.

  "Maybe he's too scared after all," said one of the boys.

  "I'm not scared," Zak insisted.

  The mist is so thick, he thought, that they'll hardly be able to see me

  ten meters beyond the gate. How will they know how far I've gone?

  "It's a bet," he said with a gleam in his eye.

  "Good." Kairn said. "All you have to do is go in and follow any path.

  They all lead to the center of the graveyard, where you'll see a large tomb.

  That's the Crypt of the Ancients. According to legend, that's where they

  buried Sycorax and her son. Pick any of the graves around the crypt, stand

  right on top of it, and then come back."

  The wrought-iron
gate was locked. Zak watched in amazement as one of

  Kairn's smallest friends managed to squeeze through the bars of the gate. He

  went to a control panel on the inside wall and pressed some buttons. The gates

  swung open with a mournful squeal. Zak was about to step in when his new

  friend stopped him.

  "Oh, I almost forgot," Kairn said with a grin. "You'll need this."

  He handed Zak a small dagger. "What for?"

  "You have to stick it in the ground in the middle of a grave near the

  Crypt of the Ancients. Tomorrow morning we'll go and see if it's there. For

  proof."

  So much for his plan. Zak shivered.

  "He looks scared!" someone teased.

  "Just cold," Zak lied.

  "Here, take this." Kairn gave Zak his thick cloak. "And you'll need this,

  too." He handed Zak a tiny glowrod to use for light.

  Zak wrapped the heavy cloak around his shoulders and took a step into the

  graveyard, holding the glowrod in front of him. Its light barely penetrated

  the rolling mist. Row after row of tombstones vanished into the darkness

  before him. He took a few more steps. The headstones looked like a miniature

  city. A city of the dead.

  "Good luck!" Kairn whispered behind him. "Oh, and watch out for the

  boneworms."

  "Boneworms?" Zak hissed. "What are boneworms?"

  "Nothing, really," Kairn chuckled. "Just wriggling creatures that come

  out of the ground. They'll suck the marrow from your bones if you stay still

  too long!

  The iron gate slammed shut behind Zak.

  CHAPTER 5

  Zak looked around. He stood at the edge of the graveyard, which stretched

  out before him into the misty dark. Winding among the headstones, Zak saw

  several flagstone paths.

  "The paths of the dead," Zak said to himself.

  He stopped to look at the nearest grave marker. There were words carved

  on it in a language he couldn't read, but Zak could guess what it said. He

  whispered, "Here lies someone's loving mother, laid to rest by her adoring

  family."

  Zak bit his lip. His parents had never been laid to rest.

  Maybe that's why they were haunting him. Maybe that's why his parents had

  visited him twice in his dreams. He was sure they would visit him again.

  Were they angry at him because he wasn't with them when they died?

  Because he and Tash hadn't given them a proper burial? That's what the

  Necropolitans believed.

  But how could we? he thought. The whole planet was destroyed.

  Zak's brain knew that, but his heart didn't. His heart was full of guilt

  because he had not been able to give his parents a funeral. He hadn't had a

  chance to say goodbye.

  The Necropolitans are right, he thought. If you don't give the dead their

  respect, they do come back to haunt you.

  A muffled crunching noise made Zak jump. He looked around but saw nothing

  in the dark. He shivered, and stopped to pull the heavy cloak tight around his

  shoulders. He had to get this over with and stop thinking about such creepy

  things.

  Zak wasn't a thinker like Tash was. She read everything she could get her

  hands on, especially about the mysterious Jedi Knights. She talked about

  philosophy and even believed in a mystical power called the Force. Zak

  preferred to think with his hands, and was a born tinkerer. He would take

  apart a repulsor lift just to see if he could put it together again. When he

  wasn't building things, he was pulling daredevil stunts in the hologym or on

  his skimboard.

  Maybe the stunts are getting a little out of hand, he thought, looking

  around the deserted cemetery.

  The crunching sound came from directly beneath his feet.

  Zak jumped almost a meter into the air. He looked down just in time to

  see a gleaming slimy white shape wriggle into the ground right where he had

  been standing.

  Boneworms.

  He remembered Kairn's warning and decided not to stand in one place for

  too long.

  As he continued along the path, Zak admitted to himself what he had

  hinted to Tash. He had been skeptical of Tash and her all-powerful "Force,"

  but he wanted to believe in the powers of the witch of Necropolis, and he

  hoped the Necropolitans were right. Then maybe his mother and father could

  come back. And then he'd be able to see them and say goodbye.

  That was the real reason Zak had come to the graveyard.

  Despite the cobblestone path, Zak soon found himself lost in a maze of

  tombs and graves. The cemetery seemed to go on forever. Now and then Zak

  thought of turning back, but he didn't want to face the teasing his new

  friends would give him, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to rest until he

  had at least tried the thing he was planning.

  He walked for what seemed like an hour. But with all the twists and

  turns, he doubted that he was more than half a kilometer from the iron gates.

  Just as he was about to give up, he turned yet another corner and found

  himself before an enormous crypt. Its face was carved with rows of horned

  creatures that looked like krayt dragons, their leering faces warning him to

  stay away. A massive iron door was set in the wall of the crypt. Oddly enough,

  there was a strong lock on the outside of the door, as though the

  Necropolitans were trying to keep someone-or something-inside.

  "This has got to be the place," Zak said to the darkness. "The Crypt of

  the Ancients."

  He stood before the iron door and took a deep breath. "Urn, excuse me,"

  he said out loud. He felt foolish, but so what? He'd do anything to bring his

  parents back. "My name is Zak Arranda. I'm not from Necropolis. I don't know

  if that matters. But my parents are gone. And I didn't get a chance to say

  goodbye." As he spoke, the feeling of foolishness was replaced by something

  else. Hot tears welled up in his eyes. "It's not fair that they were taken

  away from us! Especially not like that. We didn't even get a chance to see

  them! And now I miss them so much. I'd give anything to be able to see them

  again, just once. Not the way I see them in my nightmares, I mean really see

  them and talk to them. That's why I came here. If you really were a witch, if

  you really did have the power to bring back the dead, this is for a good

  cause. So won't you help me? Please?"

  He waited.

  Nothing happened.

  The iron door remained as solid and cold as the moment before he spoke.

  "Stupid idea...." Zak felt foolish once again. He sniffed back his last

  tear. "Thinking that something like this would work. Next thing you know

  you'll be muttering about the Force and wishing you were a Jedi like Tash."

  Zak remembered the bet with his friends. He looked around and saw that

  there were several smaller graves around the Crypt of the Ancients. He walked

  over to one and pulled out the small knife Kairn had given him. He hesitated

  for a moment when he realized that he would have to stand on the grave to

  stick the knife into the ground. What would it be like to stand on a grave?

  Zak took one careful step onto the burial plot. Was it his imagination or did

  the ground seem softer, squishier?

  "It's your imagi
nation," he told himself.

  Still, how would he feel if someone stood on his grave?

  "I wouldn't feel anything," he told himself.

  Zak took another step. Now he was standing right on the grave. He

  couldn't help but imagine that his weight was pushing down on the ground,

  which was pushing down on a coffin, squeezing a lifeless bodyless than two

  meters beneath his feet. He waited, his heart pounding.

  Nothing happened.

  Of course nothing happened, he thought. You're being ridiculous.

  Shrugging off his fear, Zak raised the knife high into the air, hesitated

  just a moment, and then plunged the knife into the ground.

  For a moment Zak froze again. He heard a muffled sound below him. He

  turned quickly, ready to run. Just as he did, a long, low moan rose up from

  the beneath his feet. The ground shuddered.

  And a hand reached up through the dirt.

  CHAPTER 6

  The moment he saw the gnarled white hand, Zak yelled in terror and

  started to run.

  He took only a few steps before he saw the ground in front of him also