Zombie Raccoons & Killer Bunnies

by Martin H. Greenberg

  I frowned, looking at the sunlight pouring through the windows. “How long was I out?”

  Wan darted a glance at the doctor. “Doctor McDougall saw fit to cast—”

  “I bespelled you. We needed to move fast, and I didn’t have time for arguments. More coffee?” Doctor McDougall rose, supreme in his overblown confidence, and disappeared behind the couch.

  Wan stood there, clutching his tail.

  I relented and patted the cushion next to me.

  Wan removed his sword and set it on the coffee table. He sat next to me, his tail reaching out to wrap around my wrist. I was never going to get used to that. But he’d spent a thousand years practicing.

  “I feared for you, honorable lady.” Wan’s warm fur rubbed against my arm. “This man removed the spell on you, then scooped you up in his arms, demanding I follow.”

  “What about the possum?” I asked. “Did you get him?”

  Wan shook his head. “He escaped, along with the remaining rats.” He leaned closer, his ear twitching. “Can we trust this man?”

  “Do you have a choice?” Doctor McDougall stood over us, coffee pot in hand. I opened my mouth, but he shook his head as he poured. “Drink first. Argue later.”

  I glared at him over the rim of my mug. “Shower first. I can drink and argue at the same time.”

  “I’m not surprised,” the doctor replied mildly.

  “I will assist you, Kate.” Wan sprang up, taking his sword and pulling the strap over his head.

  I let him help me up, still clutching my precious caffeine and the blanket. The doctor preceded us, turning on lights and getting towels. What a surprise—the bathroom was huge, with a walk-in shower and spa tub. I leaned against the sink for a minute, just taking in the glory of the room, trying not to drool.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” MacDougall said as he left.

  “Kate,” Wan said softly.

  I turned, setting the mug down by the sink, the blanket twisting around my legs. I smiled at him. “It seems so odd, to look you in the eye.”

  “The spell will not last much longer, or so he said.” Wan hesitated, then gave me a deep bow. “I wish to offer my humble apologies. I have brought danger upon you, honorable lady, and I am deeply shamed.”

  “Wan,” I reached out and touched his shoulder. “I don’t know what MacDougall said to you, but this is not your fault.”

  He straightened, shaking his head to negate my words. I could see the pain in his eyes, beady though they might be. On impulse, I reached out and hugged him, sliding my hands under the sheath of his sword.

  Wan hesitated for a moment, then wrapped his paws . . . arms . . . around me and buried his face in my hair. His fur was warm and soft, and I could feel the strength in his arms. Paws. Whatever.

  “I will defend you with my life,” he whispered.

  I tightened my arms around him, then released, making sure my blanket stayed up. “Go eat. I’ll be quick, and maybe then we will get answers.”

  “Take your time, Kate.” Wan said. “We are safe within this home.”

  I closed the door behind him and turned to look at myself in the mirror. Lord, I looked like hell. I started the shower and sank down on the toilet to let it warm.

  Could we trust McDougall? Hell if I knew. I mean, points for saving my life and all, but . . .

  On the other hand, we didn’t have a lot of alternatives. Seems the public library was a tad short on information about “possums, the use of magic by.” We had to get some information from somewhere. McDougall was a place to start.

  But as I shed my blanket and stepped into the shower, I reminded myself of one thing. Wan had some explaining to do of his own. He hadn’t come clean, and apologies aside, he damn well better.

  To hell with it. For the next few minutes all I was going to think about was soap and hot water. I poured half a bottle of shampoo in my hand and started scrubbing.

  I was enjoying the second rinse when the door of the bathroom opened.

  I froze, as the cold air swirled around the hot steam and made me shiver. “Wan?”

  “The spell wore off,” McDougall said quietly. His voice echoed in the tiled room. “I found some clothes for you.”

  I couldn’t see him through the shower wall, but I knew he was there. I covered myself, feeling very naked and vulnerable, suddenly convinced that he had x-ray vision. It occurred to me that I was naked in a stranger’s house, a stranger who threw lightning and had talked about mucking with my head. With only a mouse-sized mouse as a protector.

  “How do you like your eggs?”

  Er . . . it took a moment to wrap my head around that question. “Scrambled.”

  “Cheese?”

  Okay, it was hard to be suspicious of a man offering to cook for me. “Sure.” I paused for a minute, but he didn’t move. “Thank you, Doctor McDougall.”

  There was a longer pause. “My name is Sean. But I go by ‘Mac’.”

  That seemed to require a response. “Thank you, Mac.”

  The door closed, and the steam started to build back up again. I turned off the water and stood there dripping for a moment, feeling as though I’d somehow missed an important part of that conversation.

  * * *

  “Magic exists.” Mac said.

  My fork full of eggs paused in midair as I glared at him. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell us?”

  “Yes. More toast?”

  I stuffed the eggs in my mouth and glared at him. They were perfect, light and fluffy with just the right amount of cheese. I can’t cook an egg to save my life.

  “That seems unfair.” Wan was sitting on a small chair in the center of the table, sipping tea from a tiny cup. His sword hung on the back of the chair. “We need to know—”

  “You don’t need to know,” Mac said. “Kate is mundane. Normally I’d be telling her that she’d had a fever dream or was hallucinating—”

  “Lovely,” I muttered through my eggs.

  “I need to know more,” Mac replied. “And consult with my colleagues. I will take you home and ward the house. That will keep you safe for now.”

  I rolled my eyes and slipped Itty and Bitty each a piece of toast. They were at my feet, taking anything they could get and begging for more.

  “But first,” Mac said, “I need to know what you protect.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking—”

  “Not you,” Mac said, staring down at Wan.

  Wan tilted his head to the side and set his cup down. “How is it that I must speak when you remain silent?”

  “I came when you called.” Mac said.

  Wan studied him for a moment, then gave him a nod. “So be it.” He stood and pulled a white paper napkin from the holder. He spread it out on the table and then turned to retrieve his sword.

  Mac and I reached out to clear away the butter, jam, and other items, leaving the table clear. Wan walked to the middle of the napkin and knelt down. He set the sword down in front of him and then bowed, knocking his head three times three, moving with great dignity.

  He lifted the sword then and removed the red tassel at the base of the hilt. He set that to one side and rapped the sword down three times on the table.

  The hilt sprung open.

  Mac and I leaned forward to watch, almost bumping heads.

  Wan removed a small bundle wrapped in white silk from the hilt and set the sword aside. He placed the bundle before him and again prostrated himself before it. Normally I would have been impatient, but I was caught up in his approach to that bundle. To Wan, it was worth his life.

  Wan raised his head, reached out, and pulled the cloth back. There, on the white silk, lay a necklace. Putting his hands under the silk, he arranged it in an oval.

  It was lovely, with heavy jade pieces, bright green against the white. The pendant that hung from the necklace was almost circular and an odd color. It looked rough, like the inside of an oyster, yet it seemed to sparkle with all colors in its
depths.

  For just a moment, I seemed to feel the necklace around my neck, resting cool against my collarbones, then warming against my skin. The pendant would lay upon my breast, heavy yet light, with . . .

  “It’s lovely, Wan.” I whispered.

  “You look upon—”

  I could barely hear him. The necklace seemed to call to me, and on impulse I reached out and brushed the pendant with my finger, just wanting to feel—

  “Kate, NO!” Wan shouted.

  My finger touched the jade, and the world went white.

  I was floating, suspended between earth and the heavens, hanging freely as if underwater, clouds all around me.

  I gasped at the change, then gasped again when cool air rushed into my lungs, with a taste of rain and spring in the air. I breathed again, filling my body with energy and light, lost in the sensation.

  The clouds eddied around me, heavy with mist, white and intangible. I started to try to tread the air, to see if I could turn, but my hands passed through the clouds, collecting the heavy drops within. I couldn’t move.

  Something else could, though. I caught the movement out of the corner of my eye. There was a rumble, as of far distant thunder on a sunny day. I saw a huge form moving in and out of the clouds, flowing like a snake. I had a quick glimpse of scales that glittered all colors of the spectrum. Then a huge head reared up before me.

  I’d seen enough to know a dragon. No wings, just a fierce, lovely face and huge teeth and claws. A museum print come to life, the only source of color in the white billowing clouds.

  It saw me. Not just me, it saw through me somehow, right down to my soul, and I shook as I hung there, pierced by its gaze. Then it threw its head back, shook its mane, and laughed.

  The heavens resounded, and the earth trembled with the sound, as if all of creation shared the joy of this being. For it did not mock, nor was it threatening. It was a joyful sound, and my heart shared in its delight.

  It coiled around me, massive and powerful. It’s . . . no . . . his eyes were warm and bright, considering me as if part of a series of endless possibilities. The laugh came again, and I felt it in my chest, as if it delighted in this strange happening.

  “Let it be so,” a voice thundered, and I was thrown back, pitched into a body of flesh and muscle.

  “Kate, Kate, speak to me.” Wan’s voice sounded odd in my ear. He was on my shoulder, tugging at my earlobe.

  Mac kneeled by my chair, one hand at my wrist, the other on my chest. I blinked at him and took a breath, feeling so very odd.

  “What happened?” Mac demanded.

  “I don’t—” I licked my lips and swallowed. How the hell did you explain . . . ?

  “Oh, Kate.” Wan’s voice was sorrowful. “You should not have done that.”

  What had I done?

  Itty and Bitty raced ahead of us into the house as we walked in. Mac went first. Wan was on my shoulder, alert and ready for trouble.

  Nothing had been touched. Even the computer room and Wan’s library were intact.

  “I’ll go out and cast the wards. You’ll be safe within the house.” Mac said.

  “The dogs,” I started.

  Mac nodded.“I’ll do the backyard as well.” He slipped out the sliding door.

  I turned to the kitchen, determined to make a pot of coffee. Wan stayed silent as I worked. He’d been babbling in the car, about sacred guardians and destiny, until I had a headache and Mac’s eyebrows had climbed into his hairline. I’d told Wan to shut up in no uncertain terms.

  Yes, I knew he had things to tell me, but it could damn well wait until I’d had more coffee. About a gallon should do it.

  Wan seemed to think that I’d offended the gods by my actions, but I remembered the joy in the dragon’s laugh. I might have upset the balance of things, but I don’t think he minded that much. In fact, I rather thought he’d delighted in it, truth be told.

  I offered Mac some coffee when he came back inside, but he just shook his head. “I need to contact people. Don’t leave this house until you hear from me. The possum is still out there.”

  Swell.

  Mac turned to Wan. “Guard her with your life. Whatever has happened, Kate is extraordinary now. See to her safety.”

  Wan bowed. Mac gave me a nod and left.

  I sighed, taking a long sip of my coffee. Hell of a few days. I dreaded checking e-mail and messages, but that could wait. Poor Wan was about to burst with talk, and I needed to hear it. “All right, Wan. Tell me what this all means.”

  I figure he’d burst right out, but he just jumped down to the counter and stood looking at me, his sword over his shoulder. “Kate, I thought you were extraordinary before you touched the sacred necklace.”

  I hid a smile in the rim of my mug. “So what did I do, exactly?”

  Wan drew himself up and took a deep breath—

  Someone knocked on the front door. Itty and Bitty raced for the entryway, farting like crazy and barking their fool heads off.

  I sighed. Wan leaped for my arm and climbed up. “Careful, Kate. The doctor’s wards are strong but we should have a care.”

  “It’s probably the mailman.” I put the cup down and headed for the door, only to find a small army of guys with tattoos and leathers on the other side, staring at me grimly.

  “Uh . . .”

  “Lady, your van was found with our stolen hogs alongside I-75. WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?”

  Uh-oh.

  The End—or is it?

  BATS IN THEBAYOU

  By Steven H Silver

  Steven H Silver is a science fiction writer, reviewer, and editor who has written several articles for fanzines, as well as publishing his own annual fanzine Argentus, and the monthly APA-zine Plata. In 2003, he edited three anthologies, Wondrous Beginnings, Magical Beginnings, and Horrible Beginnings, which reprinted the first published stories of authors in the science fiction, fantasy, and horror genres. In addition to his writing and editing activities, Silver is involved in running science fiction conventions. He has chaired Windycon twice, founded Midfan and chaired the first Midwest Construction, and ran programming for Chicon 2000, the World Science Fiction Convention. Since 1998, he has sat on the board of Illinois Science Fiction in Chicago and is also the publisher of ISFiC Press. In 1995, he founded the Sidewise Award for Alternate History and has served as a judge ever since. He has been nominated for the Hugo Award in the Best Fan Writer category nine times.

  The swamp was filled with the alluring buzz of mosquitoes. N’ctath swooped through the teeming swarms, the thick, humid air providing an updraft beneath her wings, as she scooped up the succulent morsels. The taste of the insects was unlike anything N’ctath had experienced before her arrival on Earth, five years earlier.

  Earth, especially the part she had settled in, which the natives called Thebayou, was a paradise. The air was warm and thick, the smells were reminiscent of her home planet, Tseekah, and even the plants resembled the trees back home. It was the animals that lived in Thebayou, however, that really made Earth worth the travel. And the fact that the sentient natives rarely encroached on N’ctath’s hunting ground.

  She swooped through another swarm of mosquitoes, relishing the way blood filled her mouth as the insects exploded with each bite. The tiny bodies provided a satisfying snap, but they didn’t have any real taste of their own. In many ways, they were the greatest thing N’ctath had ever tasted.

  A strange purple light caught her attention, and she glided over to see a strange glowing tube encased in a fine mesh hanging from a tree. N’ctath knew instantly that it meant the humans had come into the swamps.

  Originally, the Tseekahn had planned a traditional invasion of the Earth, but shortly before the first landing, the final reconnaissance of the planet revealed that an alternative might be possible. In light of the new information, the Tseekahn launched what might be the strangest invasion in the known universe.

  A junior member of the intelligence team had come to the
admiral with his observations. The primary species on Earth lived in great manufactured concrete habitats, which were not entirely suitable for the Tseekahn. The Tseekahn preferred caves, swamps, and forests, which were often either free of the humans or only lightly populated. Even more important, the junior intelligence officer pointed out, although many of the areas the Tseekahn preferred were already populated by animals, they were populated by animals who bore an uncanny resemblance to the Tseekahn.

  Plans were immediately made for the Tseekahn to invade only those areas where their terrestrial cousins, creatures called “bats,” already lived. Five years later, aside from a few notes about strange bats, the humans still had no idea that their planet had been invaded by the Tseekahn.

  Moonlight glistened off the scales on her broad wings, one of the differences between bats and Tseekahn. As she neared the glowing rod, she noticed a swarm of mosquitoes around the device. One of the mosquitoes got too close, and the air was filled with a loud buzz, a flash of light, and a burning smell as the mosquito was annihilated.

  N’ctath saw a small house, its sides and roof made of a shiny fabric. It didn’t look like the wood and metal structures the humans usually lived in. N’ctath flew closer to get a better look just as one of the humans emerged from the house.

  “A bat!” the creature cried out as it ducked back into its shelter. A moment later, the human emerged clutching a shovel. When it saw N’ctath, it swung at her. She easily dodged the blow and flew up into the trees to keep an eye on the human without being within range of its weapon.

  A few moments later, another human emerged from the tent. The two spoke quickly, and it was clear they were looking for N’ctath in the trees. She waited until both of their backs were turned and then flew off.

  We had just gotten the tent pitched and hung a bug zapper from a tree. Jack was in the tent, and I went out to start a fire when I saw a large bat flying around the clearing. I was shocked and leaped back into the tent. Schooner started barking up a storm.