I look over at the milling zombies. “Good luck with that one. They can barely stumble forward let alone march backward.”
“A length of rope tied around each of their wrists will sort them out.” She nibbles on her lip. “Where are we going to find enough wood for the fire?”
“I can ask Bud. He works at the hardware store. He might be able to get us some offcuts.” I glance around, hoping to spot Bud, and again I find myself trapped in the red glow of Obidiah’s furious glare. I hurriedly shake him off and purposely turn my back on him. “Uh, Jane. You also need to deal with Obidiah. He’s not looking too happy about the way things are going.”
“It seems the Sheriff might get to him first. One of his men was telling me earlier that they found a few strands of paisley cotton on the bookshelf between Miss Oxley’s head and Auntie Di’s Recipes for Yeast-Free, Gluten-Free Buns.”
I glance over my shoulder to see that Sheriff Dixie is now in a serious conversation with Obidiah. “It’s no use throwing him in jail,” I say miserably. “He’s a demon. Earthly walls can’t hold him in.”
“Ah yes, but unearthly walls can. Or should I say, holy walls. Go see if you can rustle up some birch wood while I take care of this.” She walks over to the chanting men and starts telling them that everything will soon be put right while I head over to where I last saw Bud Feely. I make sure to give Obidiah and the Sheriff a wide berth on the way.
“Hey, you.” I turn around to see Oscar Mason, the lovely man who told me he wanted to find a wife and raise a family, grinning at me. “Oh, hi.”
“Enjoying the spectacle?”
“I don’t really see it as entertainment. There’s a lot at stake here today, Oscar.”
He chortles, plainly pleased with my comment. “I see what you did there.”
“Huh?”
“Stake. There’s a lot at stake.”
“Oh. Slip of the tongue. Have you seen Bud Feely around? I did see him earlier. We need to organize a trailer of wood, preferably silver birch.”
“No, I haven’t seen him. Hey, what’s that girl’s name? The one with the plaits.”
I follow his gaze to see that he’s looking admiringly at Maisie. “That’s Maisie. She’s a sweetie.”
“Has she got a boyfriend?”
“Uh, I doubt it. She’s spent the best part of the last two hundred years with her arms stretched above her head and her feet stuck in the ground.” I catch a glimpse of a familiar red flannel shirt near the steps of the house. “There’s Bud over there with George. You should go and have a chat with Jane. She’s cooking something up that has something to do with holy soil and she might appreciate some input from a man of the cloth.” I duck around the hulking, perpetually dumbfounded form of Ronnie Kay and head across to see Bud.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Bud invites me to go to the hardware store with him to collect the wood, which surprises me somewhat. I didn’t think we ended our date on the best of notes but he’s smiling at me now as if we’re great friends. I tell him I’ll met him at the gate in five minutes as I need to tell my family where I’m going first so they don’t worry about me. I find Mom, Organza, and Reece looking anything but worried about me as they take turns throwing a ball for little Jamie. I notice Reece casting a few wistful glances in Obidiah’s direction and I pull him aside. “Are you doing okay, hun? It’s a big day.”
“Yeah. I tried to talk to Obidiah earlier but he doesn’t seem interested in talking to me anymore.”
“There’s a lot going on. I think his mind might be on other things.” Such as getting his bloody, gore-soaked revenge on your sister.
“I think something has changed. He’s not the same as he once was. He told me he hates this and he asked me to remove it.” Reece touches his fingers to the cross pendant Mom gave him on his birthday. “He got angry when I said no.”
“Sometimes we outgrow people,” I say gently. There’s no point in telling Reece that Obidiah is a vengeful demon. I know he won’t listen to any of it. As far as he’s concerned, Obidiah has been his fun and crazy friend since childhood.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I’m going to the hardware store with Bud. Do you want to come?”
“No.” He gives me one of his sunshine-filled smiles. “I might go talk to Agnes. She seems nice.”
“You do that.” I watch as he walks across to join Agnes, who is peeping coyly around the edge of her hood as he approaches. I admit I do get a sharp pang when I see them together. Reece has always been my baby brother and I’ve always been so protective of him. However, if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that nothing ever stays the same.
Bud’s truck is at the gate with the engine running and I jump in beside him. “There’s a real party atmosphere developing back there.”
“I guess releasing a town from two centuries of gloom tends to have that effect. I think we have a few off-cuts out the back in the yard but I’m not sure how much your friend Jane is counting on.”
“Throw a few packs of fire accelerant in there and we’ll be right.” A distant memory of Dad’s motorbike and the fire accelerant we used as we escaped the zombies on Cemetery Hill floats back to me. We are deja voodoo, we know more than you doo.
“You look sad.”
“Huh?” I shake my pensive mood off. “I’m fine. Can we go a little faster? Jane needs us back as soon as possible.”
Bud falls silent and shortly afterward, we’re turning into the hardware store parking lot. I guess it helps that the roads are empty with everyone gathered at Windfell for the trial and curse lifting. I help Bud to stack up a trailer that he’s dragged across from somewhere, although the best we can find is a mix of blue gum, birch, and cedar off-cuts. Beggars can’t be choosers, as they say. A fire is a fire, right? We toss in a few coils of rope and several packs of fire accelerant as backup and again, I’m taken back to that last terrifying day at Cemetery Hill. Dad’s motorbike, accelerant, and Obidiah. Is the story of my life on a permanent loop or am I getting myself caught up in the details?
Before too long, we’re bouncing and jostling our way along the road again and heading back to Windfell. I like being in the cab with Bud. He’s a comforting presence and he doesn’t talk too much. Plus, he smells nice. Sort of pine-y, sea breezy, and male. It’s not intoxicating like Jack Hemlock but now that I know who that guy really is it makes me ill to remember how much I was pulled in by the false scent of him.
It’s as if Bud has read my mind. “Who’s that Jack guy? He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you all day.”
I go for vague nondisclosure, although I have to admit I feel secretly pleased that Bud noticed Jack noticing me. “I met him on assignment, the same way as I met you.”
‘How’s the assignment going?”
“It’s slowed down.” Which reminds me, I received a text from Elmer Tweek this morning and I haven’t looked at it yet. Perhaps later, after the reversal, I’ll take a look. Elmer is so far from holding any importance in my mind right now that he barely exists to me.
“Okay.” Bud gives me a grin that makes me want to smile straight back at him. “We’re back at Windfell.”
The weirdness of the day continues and I am astonished to see that it’s nearly mid-afternoon. Time is a slippery and uncatchable thing today. Jane is pleased with the load of wood and rapidly assembles a team of men to unpack it and stack it. I look around for Obidiah but I can’t see him. Nor can I see Sheriff Dixie. I feel a strange pang of concern for the man, which makes me worried that I’m losing my mind due to the stress of the moment – why should I ever feel concerned for a small town cop?
“Country boys line up here!” Jane has one of those voices that people automatically obey and the zombies scoot to get in line before she scolds them again. With a grace and ease that raises more questions than I have time to delve into here, Jane ropes the zombies together and stands them in front of the newly built pyre-tunnel. “George, light the fire!”
The z
ombie men gasp and reel back as the wood off-cuts flame and burn, with the fire helped along by liberal splashes of accelerant. Jane hustles the zombies through the archway, telling them it won’t hurt a bit, and off they shuffle.
A frigid voice ices my ear. “You think you’re so clever, Angel.”
Honestly, I’m done with Obidiah and his bullshit. “You just don’t quit, do you?” I don’t care that I’m yelling, I don’t care that the men are turning around to stare at me.
A snakey smile spreads across his faux-handsome face. “You can’t win.”
“And you!” Jane grabs the incredulous Obidiah by the shoulder and spins him around to face her. “It’s high time we put all of your nonsense to bed.”
“Uh.” Obidiah has clearly never been spoken to like this before but he doesn’t have much opportunity to protest. Jane won’t allow it. She looks around and beckons to Oscar. “I think I might make use of you in the absence of real holy soil. Needs must. Come and stand with me, son.”
Oscar, looking sheepish, walks around the burning pyre filled with slowly reversing zombies and shyly approaches, while Obidiah looks as if there are plenty of other places he’d rather be. Jane squints up at the sky before grabbing Oscar and manhandling him into the spot she has selected. “As Confucius once said, before you embark on a journey of revenge you need to dig two graves.” She holds Oscar’s hand and raises both their hands above their heads. “Goodbye, Obidiah. Your time has come. Good riddance to a demon who is well past his use by date.”
It’s as if he hasn’t heard her. Instead of reacting to her speech, he stares at me with those red eyes and for the first time I see the deep sadness held within, a heart-deep sorrow that could almost match mine over the loss of my Dad. I feel it strongly, that moment of kinship, that instant when two souls recognize the same traits in one another.
And do you know what?
I don’t give a fuck about how sad he is. He deserves everything he gets. I spit my words at him. “You were wrong, Obidiah. I can win, and I will win. The vital point you’ve missed is that I have friends to help me and you don’t.”
“Now!” yells Jane.
The assembled crowd shrieks and scatters as an orange lightning bolt flashes from the sky, engulfing Obidiah in a sheet of flame. I imagine I can see his eyes still on mine for a single heartbeat longer before the flames obliterate him entirely. By the time the smoke clears, only a black gaping black hole remains where just seconds ago Obidiah stood in all of his arrogant Jack glory. The acrid smell of burnt hair and singed paisley shirts pinches at my nostrils and burns the back of my throat.
“What the devil?” roars Sheriff Dixie as he shoulders his way through the awestruck crowd of men. “That man was a suspect! What have you done with him?”
“I’ve done nothing.” Jane smooths down the front of her gown with her hands, the expression on her face serene and satisfied. “He bought it all on himself, although your ‘what the devil’ comment was remarkably close to the truth.”
“He’s gone,” Reece says sadly. “And this time I know he won’t ever be back. I’m going to miss him so much.”
The first of the now un-zombied men stagger backward out of the pyre, slightly burned around the edges but otherwise none the worse for the wear. Sid Kenworth, cataract and limp-free, starts up a neighborly conversation with Mom while Organza slides in close to introduce herself to his son Matt.
My heart is still racing. Shit-a-roonie, this has to have been one of the craziest days of my life and there’s been a few of them to choose from. “What happens now?”
“Cider,” says Myrtle firmly. “I think it’s time we had a cider. Can someone point me in the direction of the nearest tavern?”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Despite the fact it’s a school night, we all have a wonderful time down at the local tavern. The Inn Keeper’s Daughter is one of those mock-vintage places with brass wall lamps, old-timey photos in gilded frames, and cozy red vinyl booth seats. Myrtle turns out to be an absolute riot when she’s tipsy and she soon has us all in stitches with her hilarious impressions of Presidents through the ages.
Jane strikes up a conversation with Sheriff Dixie but Mom, displaying a quick flash of the old green eye, quickly hauls him away. Jane doesn’t seem bothered; she’s an attractive and magnetic woman and there are plenty of other men queuing up to buy her a drink and talk to her.
It’s cute to see Agnes and Reece head to head in a corner, sipping glasses of lemonade while Reece shows Agnes how to play a game on his phone. Matt and Organza have formed a mutual admiration society, and Maisie and Myrtle are soon holding court with their own circle of admirers. It’s amazing to see the town and country men now talking and laughing with each other as if they’ve been friends forever.
And then there’s Bud. He’s scarcely left my side since we unassembled what was left of the charred zombie pyre before joining the others here at The Inn Keeper’s Daughter. He’s just on his way back from buying me another drink and I love the way he’s focused on me as if I’m the only person in the room. He hands me my drink and we do a corny clink together of our glasses.
“You told me you’ve never had a girlfriend. I guess that means you’re…”
He jumps in to finish my sentence. “Vergin’ on the ridiculous? Yeah, definitely so. I’m 31 years old and it’s all still intact.”
This makes me laugh harder than it should. Bud is easy company, plus he’s fun to be around. He catches my eye again and I find myself blushing as I hastily look away. Where am I going with this?
Luckily, before Ellie Friedlander forgets how bad ass she really is and makes a fool of herself, my phone rumbles with a text from where it’s tucked inside my pocket. I remember I never checked Elmer’s earlier text and I excuse myself so I can see what the bald old coot wants. This second text is also from Elmer and he doesn’t sound happy. WHERE THE HELL R U? CALL ME.
I point at the door to tell Bud that I’m stepping out to make a call. I take my drink with me as something tells me I might need it. Elmer isn’t the most courteous of men and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting when he’s talking business. I find a quiet spot just past the open door of the tavern and dial Elmer’s number.
“Ellie! I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day.”
“Yeah, I know. I had a busy day. What’s up? Ow!” Someone bumps rudely into me as he passes by on the street and I glare furiously after him. I’m disconcerted to see it’s a dark-haired man wearing a paisley shirt and he’s hurrying away without looking back. Obidiah? Could it possibly be him? My fingers turn to blocks of ice and I can barely hold the phone. “Elmer, I’ll call you back.”
Without stopping to think, I run after the man just as he disappears around the corner. “Hey! Hey you! Wait!”
A guy I’ve never seen before but who looks vaguely familiar turns and frowns at me. “Are you talking to me?”
“Sorry, I thought you were someone else. The shirt was a distraction.”
“Yeah, a friend of mine mailed it to me for my birthday. I’m not sure if it’s really me.” He plucks distastefully at his shirtsleeve. “It’ll probably end up as a cleaning rag. We have quite a mess to deal with back at the farm.”
I now know who he reminds me of. Ronnie Kay and Matt. “Are you one of the Kenworth boys?”
“Yeah, I’m Phil.” He smiles at me and I’m relieved to see there’s no trace of zombie-ism in his eyes.
“Did you walk through the pyre with the other men?”
“I did.” He scratches his head and a thin veil of confusion briefly flutters down to mask his features. “I’m not sure what happened back there but I feel so clear-headed. Like my brain was removed, detoxed, flushed out, and replaced. I also have a strong urge to try vegetarianism.”
“Good to hear, although it’s a pity your new and improved brain doesn’t come with manners.”
“Huh?”
“You bumped into me back there and you didn’t apologize.”
“Don’t worry about it. Are you coming in for a drink?”
“I’ve already had one. Hey, I might see you around.” He’s already walking away, no doubt heading home to the farm explore the wonders of an unzombie-fied brain and cancel the latest shipment of cows.
“Yeah, see ya.” It’s good to know that Jane’s plan worked so well. I wander back to my spot by the tavern door and redial Elmer’s number.
“Stop messing around with me, Ellie!”
“What? I had an emergency. I called you straight back, didn’t I?” I can picture him now, spitting salvia all over his desk and scratching his groin while he talks to me.
“We’re pulling your assignment. As of now.”
“Why? Because I didn’t call you back as soon as you wanted me to? Don’t be such a baby. Besides, I’ve barely got started! Elmer, there’s an amazing sub story here but I just haven’t got around to talking to you about it yet.” The guy’s clearly an idiot. This story could set him up for life.
“The station’s been sold.”
“What? Who to? Why is this the first I’ve heard of it?”
“We were working through the finer details. You’ll be paid out until the end of the month as per the terms of your contract.”
“So the new owners don’t want to keep any of the current staff?” I’m struggling to make sense of this. I did not expect to lose my job today.
“No. They’re restructuring and plan to focus on reality TV rather than news reports. That’s where the dollar is.”
“So that’s it.”
“That’s it. All the best, Ellie. You have my phone number and you can use me for a reference for a new job if you need to.”
Nothing Town Page 15
