“I’m coming too,” said Dee.
Jack thought it was touching. His two best friends in the whole world were taking him to a voodoo queen. They cared. He wanted to thank them. He wanted to cry. He got off his barstool, tripped, and tried to catch himself.
His arm fell off again.
His two new best friends screamed and ran away from him.
Chapter Four
The Voodoo Queen
Jack hadn’t known what to expect. But it wasn’t the short, round, grandmotherly woman standing in the middle of a gaily decorated, cozy apartment. The woman was about four feet tall and almost as wide. She had light brown skin and short gray hair, and wore a red silk dress with several colorful aprons and scarves tied around her waist. When she moved her arms, a myriad of silver bracelets tinkled like chimes.
The apartment consisted of a large room with a table, a bookshelf, a bed behind a curtained alcove, and a television set. The kitchen was visible through an open door. One whole wall was windows. It was part of a derelict factory, he realized.
The woman smiled as she watched him take everything in. “Do you like it?” she asked. Her voice was deep and she had an accent he couldn’t place.
“It’s nice,” he admitted. “It’s small but the use of space makes it look bigger than it is. The girders add a lot of atmosphere, and using the old elevator cage to define the kitchen area is a clever touch. I especially like the floor to ceiling windows. Too bad the view isn’t better.”
“You seem to know a lot about architecture,” said the woman. “Maybe you were an architect before you became a zombie?”
If she’d punched him he wouldn’t have been more surprised. “You know I’m a zombie? Does it show that much?” Worry shot through him. He wouldn’t even be able to go out on the streets.
“No, but I’m a voudon m’ambo. You can’t pull the wool over Mamie Hoya’s eyes. My loa, Sally, said you were coming and that you had a problem. I’ve seen zombies before, so I recognized you right away. But don’t worry.” She patted him on the arm. “No one else will be able to tell—unless one of your limbs drops off or something like that.” She gave a chuckle.
“It’s not funny. It scared us to death,” said Brianna.
“Well, come on over here and sit down. Have some tea.” The table was set for four, Jack realized, with a white lacy tablecloth and a silver bowl full of bright yellow candy in the middle.
Mamie Hoya poured tea from a beautiful china teapot into four delicate cups. “It’s Earl Grey. Has a nice bergamot bouquet. You’ll like it. There are some lemon drops in that bowl there. Help yourselves.”
Jack wasn’t sure what a bergamot was, but the tea smelled nice. He sat down, took a lemon drop, and sucked on it. The tart taste almost got through the numb, cardboard sensation he had. For the first time since he’d woken up, he started to feel better. He’d been terrified, angry, hurt, hung over, and achy. And when his arm fell off and scared Dee and Brianna, he’d been afraid he’d lost the only two friends he had. But Brianna had come back when she saw him slumped on the floor and helped him put his arm back in place, and Dee had made him some strong coffee to clear his head. They’d walked through the cold drizzle to Mamie Hoya’s place, and that had cleared his head even more.
He took another sip of tea and sighed. Maybe things were looking up finally.
“Mamie Hoya, is there any cure for me?” he asked her, setting the tea cup down carefully.
“I’m afraid not.” She grimaced. “Probably not what you wanted to hear, was it? But look on the bright side. You’re immortal, like a vampire, but you don’t have the inconvenience of being allergic to sunlight.”
“My arm keeps falling off,” Jack muttered. He was starting to feel awful again. He had not wanted to hear that he was stuck being a zombie forever.
“It could be worse. You’re put together pretty solid. I’m not sure who made you a zombie, but whoever it was had incredible talent.”
“How could it be worse?” Dee asked. He made a face. “Vampires are cool. Zombies are well, kind of gross.”
“Thanks,” said Jack.
“It could be worse. More than his arm could fall off,” Mamie Hoya said. “Some zombies are barely held together. They take a step and their foot falls off. They sneeze and their—”
“All right. I get the picture.” Jack held up his hand.
“I don’t. What happens if they sneeze?” Dee looked interested.
“I don’t want to know!” cried Jack. Chills ran up his spine.
“
You might want to find out more about your new body,” said Brianna.
That was good advice. Jack closed his eyes, thought for a minute, then opened them and asked Mamie Hoya, “Will I turn green?” He had to know.
“Not if you take care of yourself. It’s simple. The zombies you see in films or books who are all decrepit and falling apart—”
“With flies buzzing around them,” said Dee helpfully.
“Hush. They are decrepit because they weren’t made by magic, they were made by chemistry. There are two different kinds of zombies; those who were made by a necromancer who uses magic, real magic. It’s a magic that defeats death and the result is something like a vampire. And there are those who are made by a zombie master who are nothing but slaves.” Mamie Hoya reached over and patted Jack’s hand. “What we have to know is who made you. Tell me something, how did you die?”
“The Heart Taker killed him last October.” Brianna spoke up.
Mamie Hoya flinched. “No heart left? That’s very bad news. There were more victims, weren’t there?”
Brianna nodded.
“How many, including Jack?”
“Four, no, five, and I believe Jack was the first one.” Brianna looked at Dee who nodded.
“And so the Heart Taker started killing a year ago.” Mamie Hoya murmured to herself.
“Does this mean there are more zombies? Did the Heart Taker make Jack a zombie?”
Jack thought Brianna’s questions were good so he leaned forward to listen to the answer.
Mamie Hoya folded her hands beneath her chin and thought. “We might want to find out where the other victims are buried. If they’re zombies too, we’ll have a better idea of what’s going on. But the Heart Taker didn’t make Jack, I’m sure of that.”
“More zombies?” Jack wasn’t sure if he were horrified or interested. Could zombies marry and have kids? He took another sip of his tea, wishing that his head would clear and the dreamlike state leave him. He still felt curiously numb. He eyed Mamie Hoya. Maybe she could help with that. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but I was wondering if you could ...”
Mamie Hoya raised her hand. “Quiet. Sally is here.”
****
Mamie Hoya had mentioned Sally earlier. Her loa, she’d called her. A loa was a spirit. Sometimes they were nice, and other times they were spiteful and malicious. Brianna knew all about voodoo and loas. You don’t live in the south and ignore the old beliefs and religions. When Mamie Hoya announced her loa was near, an icy trickle ran down her back. Almost like someone had run their cold fingers along her spine.
“Sally, leave the lady alone.” Mamie Hoya glared at a spot just above her right shoulder.
Brianna held her breath. And then a whispery breath of chilled air touched her ear.
“She likes you,” Mamie Hoya chuckled.
“Where is she?” Brianna looked around but didn't see a thing.
“She’s standing right behind you.” Jack said.
“You can see her?” Brianna’s eyebrow’s shot up.
“Well of course he can child. He’s dead. Just like Sally. The dead can see the dead. Now, let’s try to solve this mystery, all right?”
Brianna didn’t dare move until the unpleasantly cold tingle had stopped. This was turning out to be the strangest day of her life. First her boyfriend becomes a zombie comes back to life. And then they all go see a voodoo queen, and a loa with icy fingertips t
akes a shine to her. And even as a zombie, Jack was hot.
She had to stop thinking that.
****
Jack watched as the loa sashayed into the room and tickled Brianna’s back. Then she stood and stared at Jack. Jack stared back. She was a small black girl with many little braids on her head, each sticking straight out so that it looked almost comical. Almost, but not quite. There was something sad about the young girl.
“Sally, come here, dear.” Mamie Hoya pointed to the floor, where Jack suddenly noticed an intricate symbol drawn with white chalk or paint.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“A vévé. It will help Sally concentrate on the task at hand,” replied Mamie Hoya.
The slim girl flounced over to the vévé and sat down in it, taking care to smooth her long skirt over her bony knees. She was dressed in a white dress and a starched apron, both far too big for her slender frame. Her skin was very dark, and her eyes were long and slanted like a cat’s, suggesting Oriental blood. She was perfectly gorgeous. She winked at Jack and stuck out her tongue.
“Sally, tell us about Jack, darling.” Mamie Hoya pointed at Jack, and the loa tilted her head.
“He’s dead.” She sounded bored.
Brianna and Dee leaned forward. “Did she answer?” asked Dee.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Brianna said.
“Shhhh. Sally said he was dead, that’s all,” said Mamie Hoya.
Jack felt something snap inside him, and he stood up, nearly tipping the table over, and yelled, “Will everyone stop rubbing it in? I know I’m dead! Just drop it, all right?”
Mamie Hoya clapped her hands. “You’re so good Sally. Just the thing to jar him out of his apathy.” She tugged on Jack’s hand. “Sit down, sugar. Sally is just doing her job.”
“Which is to hurt me?” he said sulkily.
“No, which is to help you.” Mamie Hoya shook her head. “It’s gonna hurt something wicked. But at least you’ll start to feel things again and get rid of that veil that’s covering you.”
“Veil? What veil?”
“Your caul, if you prefer. The zombie master affixed it to you. The one wrapping you up to protect you. It’s a veil between two worlds. You don’t need it anymore. You know you’re dead. That’s the most important thing. Now you need your memories. Sally. Can you rip that veil off him?”
“Yessum.” Sally gave a little sniff. “I ain’t done it in a while though. Where’d you find that zombie? He’s the first one I’ve seen in over a century!” As she spoke she got up and leaned forward. Her feet never left the pentagon, but her hands touched Jack’s face and a stabbing pain shot from her fingertips straight down to his toes.
He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even cry out. The pain was so intense it took all his concentration just to stay conscious.
“No, let yourself go. Dive into the pain. Come on. It hurts, but if you let it take you, it will be over soon. Don’t fight it,” Sally crooned.
“What’s happening?” Dee and Brianna stared at him, their eyes wide. A cloud of gold and silver sparks suddenly filled the air around Jack. Dee and Brianna uttered twin screams and lurched away from the table. Mamie Hoya seemed prepared for that and seized them each by the wrist. “Sit down, it’s not over yet.”
“But he’s covered with light!” Brianna gasped.
“It’s magic.” Mamie Hoya sounded almost euphoric. “Magic of the highest kind. Jack, you were made by a master.”
Jack couldn’t answer. The light blinded him, and the pain was like a thousand knives boring into him. How could he not fight the pain? For a minute he tried, but then his defenses collapsed. He stopped resisting. A terrible jolt shook him, and for a second he thought he’d been struck by lightning. His skull seemed to crack open, and he remembered.
It wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. After all, they were his memories and they didn’t all wash over him at once, drowning him. Rather they simply appeared where they should be—in his mind, in their proper places, ready to be called forth if need be. And what was wonderful was the feeling of looseness, of relaxation, as his muscles finally unknotted and his head stopped hurting. Sounds became clearer, and paradoxically, Sally grew fainter. Her outlines blurred.
“You’ve come back to the land of the living,” said Mamie Hoya, satisfaction in her voice. “You’re still dead, but you’re in this world now. Your mind and body have become one again.”
“Is that why I can’t see Sally so well anymore?” Jack peered at the loa, who stuck her tongue at him again. But she was grinning. “Thank you,” he said to her.
The loa looked surprised.
“That’s right. Brianna and Dee can’t see her at all. I can see her because I was born a spirit talker. I see the dead. You can see her because you are dead. You can go now Sally. You’ve done a good deed.”
The loa curtseyed and stepped out of the vévé. She hung around Dee and seemed to admire his long, blond hair before vanishing.
“He’s still covered with light,” Brianna said, her voice wavering.
“It will fade. It’s because he was made by a necromancer with high magic. I told you so.” Mamie Hoya pointed her finger at Brianna and shook it sternly. “Pay attention. Remember. There are two sorts of zombies. The kind made with chemicals, the common ones, the ones you see on television. They are made by a Bokor, their soul has been captured and held against its will, usually in a clay jar. And then there are the lucky ones, held to life with magic, like the vampires or the necromancers. The gold you saw, the light and the sparks, are all part of Jack’s soul.”
“It’s … beautiful,” said Brianna. Her face was still pale but bright patches of pink washed her cheeks. “I never imagined anything like it.”
“You can even say he glows,” Dee quipped. He coughed. “Sorry.”
Jack held his hand out and flexed it. It didn’t tremble anymore. Warmth and awareness flowed through him, instead of that icy numbness. He had the impression he’d just woken up from a dream. Only the nightmare still continued. He was still dead. His arm would still pop off if pulled, and he was immortal, but not as debonair chic as a vampire. Some people have all the luck.
“You’ll get used to it,” said Mamie Hoya. She smiled at him. “Now, I have a book around here somewhere about taking care of your new body.” She got up and rummaged through a drawer in her commode. “Ah, here it is. It’s a journal, but the author wrote it almost like a handbook. Rather old and worn, but interesting reading.”
“Thank you.” Jack took the booklet, careful of the brittle pages, and peered at the leather cover. “It looks like someone’s diary,” he said. He opened it. It had been written in an old-fashioned, spidery script, but he could read it.
Dee leaned over and read aloud, “Care and Treatment of Zombies by Frank N. Stein.”
Brianna shot tea out of her nose and choked. “Let me see that.”
“Just kidding.” Dee handed her a napkin. “It says ‘The Journal of a New Zombie.’ No author.”
Jack opened the diary. On the first page was an introduction by someone who had become a zombie, and after there were chapters.
Introduction. Today is my one hundred and fiftieth anniversary as a zombie and I have decided to write this journal to help those who may need it. I was lucky to have a good, caring master, but others may not have that chance and this book is for them. The things I learned or found out by myself will be carefully compiled here. You will see that with a little care and good sense, you can keep healthy and fit.
Jack thought it was rather dry and skipped ahead to the chapter that said, Keeping it all Together.
As a necromancer’s zombie, I have found that a zombie’s body is only as good as the spell that binds it. The stronger the spell the stronger the force holding everything together. But even with a weak force, certain exercises can help.” He skipped to another section. “Diet. Vitally important is a good diet. We zombies burn calories at a fast rate, and yet they have very fragile stomachs
. Things I know now to avoid at all cost: vinegar, alcohol, strawberries ...
“Is it helpful?” Dee wanted to know.
Jack looked up. “Yes, it is. He was made by a necromancer, the same way I was made, but he doesn’t say how it happened.”
Mamie Hoya pushed her teacup aside and leaned her arms on the table. “I can tell you how, that’s easy. With magic. What interests me is who made you? I say we visit the morgue.”
“Why couldn’t it have been the Heart Taker?” Brianna wanted to know.
“Because he stole Jack’s heart. A zombie master doesn’t do things like that if he has any pride in his work. And Jack was well made, I can assure you.”
Well, that made him feel a little better. “I’d like to meet the person who made me,” said Jack. “I need to ask him why he did it.”
“Most of the time zombies are made for a specific purpose. Which makes me wonder if Jack truly was …” Mamie Hoya stopped and pursed her mouth. “Let’s not say any more until we meet your maker. Do you remember which morgue you were in?” she asked Jack.
“Er, no. I was dead.”
Chapter Five
The Heart Taker
Brianna pulled her agenda out of her purse and looked at it. If she didn’t hurry she’d be late. She stood up. “I have to be going. I have an appointment on the other side of the city this evening.”
“We’re going to the morgue. Don’t you want to come with us?” Jack asked her.
“I can’t. My client is expecting me.” Brianna stuck her agenda back in her purse. She hesitated and then blurted, “There’s room in my apartment if you want to stay with me.” She hadn’t meant to invite him, but the words had just popped out of her mouth. And once out, it felt right, somehow.
Jack blinked. “That’s awfully nice of you.”
“Well, we did go out for a while.”
“I know.” He nodded. “I remember your place.”
Brianna felt her cheeks get hot. They’d been so happy for those three months. And now it was over. He was dead, and she … well, she couldn’t seem to let go.
Jack the Stripper Page 3
