Death And Darkness

by E. A. Copen

  Kane parked in front of the administration building. My feet dragged over the ground as I pulled myself toward the door. It opened before I got there and Emma stepped out. “Well? What’s the verdict? Are we good to go?”

  I nodded. “I hope you don’t mind if I sleep all the way back. I’m beat.”

  “Same,” Emma answered, her shoulders sagging. “Mind if Grammy drives us home?”

  I winced. Well, I’d survived a Titan. How bad could the crazy old bat’s driving be? “Actually, on second thought, would you mind if Moses did the driving?” I put a hand to my mouth and whispered so only Emma could hear. “I’m a little afraid of your grandma.”

  We piled into Emma’s Escalade shortly after, with Moses in the driver’s seat and Grammy up front next to him. Emma and I stretched out in the back seat. I yawned and put my arm behind her. Smooth. For once, she didn’t comment or push it away, but leaned against me and closed her eyes. We were asleep before the Escalade ever made it off prison grounds.

  I woke up when the Escalade screeched to a stop in front of a Starbucks. The sun was up and it was mid-morning, meaning I’d slept all the way back to New Orleans. I glanced through the tinted window to see a middle-aged guy in a heavy coat standing next to a shopping cart full of junk. He was sipping from a coffee cup, glancing around nervously.

  Baron Samedi leaned against the wall next to the guy, his hands folded over the top of his skull cane. The Baron had put on a purple velvet coat with black fur trim. He looked more like a pimp standing there than the Loa of death.

  Emma sat up and yawned. “Are we there yet?”

  I nodded. “Time for me to become the Pale Horseman again.”

  She followed my gaze through the window and frowned. “You don’t want to do this, do you?”

  I didn’t. I wanted to go back to Emma’s, collect my daughter, and sleep for a week. Then for the next month, I wanted to spend every waking moment with both of them, just enjoying ourselves. I wanted my life to be mine again.

  Don’t get me wrong. Being the Pale Horseman, helping people and saving the world, was an awesome gig. But after seven months of non-stop action, it was wearing me down. I needed a break. That wouldn’t happen anytime soon, not with Loki prowling around. Sooner or later, he’d get his war, and I’d have to be there to stop him.

  “I have to do it,” I said eventually. “For now.” I slid up through the seats and opened the side door, nodding to Moses. “Keep the engine running.”

  He nodded back.

  “About time you got here.” Samedi snapped closed a pocket watch he must’ve pulled out when he saw it was me. “We’ve been here for hours.”

  “You should try three corners down. This neighborhood’s too nice.” I gestured down the street with my thumb.

  “What?”

  “Never mind.” Better not poke the bear. Samedi didn’t seem like he was in the mood for jokes.

  The man in the heavy coat, who I took to be Eugene, walked to the end of the sidewalk. His smell didn’t precede him, so I guessed the Baron had successfully gotten him into a shower. “So, how’d it go?”

  “Titan’s dead as far as I can tell. If not dead, definitely stripped of his power. You won’t have any trouble from him anytime soon.”

  “How?” The Baron demanded, his voice growing deep.

  I shrugged. “Once I knew it fed on magic, it wasn’t that hard to deduce that cutting it off from magic would weaken it. Traveling to the heart of the Titan’s power might’ve been suicide if I hadn’t had the Sandman’s mantle. It gave me god-like powers in the dream realm. Here’s your bag of sand, by the way. Neat stuff, sand. Still nasty to get in your eyes.” I held the plastic baggie out to him. It’d refilled on its own shortly after we left the prison compound.

  Eugene grunted and took the bag. “How’d you keep it from feeding on your body while you were out? The mantle might’ve given you what you needed once you got into the dream, but on the outside, you were still vulnerable.”

  “My friends.” I waved at the Escalade.

  Grammy waved back, and Moses dipped his head.

  “And just in case it somehow got past them, I made this.” I turned back to the pair and pulled the dreamcatcher out of my coat.

  Eugene squinted at it. “That is the ugliest dream catcher I’ve ever seen. You better stick to crystals and tarot.”

  “Any trouble while I was gone?” I asked.

  Eugene and Samedi exchanged glances before the Baron answered, “A bit of a disturbance over at the nunnery. Somehow Abbess Francesca Delane sat up during her own funeral service. The nuns were quite distressed.”

  I winced. So that was where all that necromantic power had gone earlier when Eugene gave me the Sandman mantle.

  “Nothing we couldn’t handle.” Eugene beamed and held his hands out. “But I’m ready to go back to being the Sandman now. Being you is kinda exhausting.”

  I clasped Eugene’s hands so we could trade back. “On that, we agree.”

  A massive ice storm rolled through the middle of the country, causing delays and cancellations in airports all over. Emma’s parents’ flights were canceled, and Curtis got leave from work thanks to his injury. Grammy had nowhere better to be, so the family stayed in town an extra week to drive Emma crazy.

  She coped by sneaking out of the house and crashing at my place as much as possible, which I couldn’t complain about, even if it did mean I had to clean up. She gave me an earful about the mess. It was just a sink full of dishes and a lot of laundry that needed doing, but that happens when you’re busy saving the world.

  My father was laid to rest on a chilly Tuesday morning in Saint Patrick’s Cemetery. We didn’t have a family plot, but I purchased space enough for two with the increased stipend Baron Samedi gave me. The stone wasn’t finished yet, but when it was, it would have both my mother and father’s names on it.

  Like most plots for people of moderate income, he didn’t get a mausoleum, just a patch of dirt set above the ground with stone stairs leading to it. The funeral home covered it with a plastic tent because it was misting that day.

  I sat through the service with Emma at my side and Remy in my arms, a numb and distant feeling taking over. The realization that one day Remy would have to bury me had sunk in and scared the hell out of me. I didn’t want her to feel about me the way I felt about my old man.

  I hadn’t known my father. All I ever saw was one side of a complicated man. He was a frightening figure. In a way, my worst nightmare. A terrifying, mysterious force whose motivations I might never know. I couldn’t do that. No matter what, I had to be there for her, something I might not be able to do if I stayed the Pale Horseman. Eventually, I’d have to give up that role for her sake.

  I stayed in the cemetery long after they’d lowered the coffin and tossed the loose dirt over the top, hiding it from view. Mist turned into rain. It drummed out an unpredictable rhythm on the tarp above my head, and the wind carried some of it in to splash on the back of my neck. Memories paraded through my mind, good and bad. They were all that was left of a life almost no one would miss.

  Emma touched my shoulder gently, telling me it was time to without ever uttering a word.

  With a sigh, I lowered my head. “Bye, Dad. See you later.”

  I walked out of the cemetery with Emma and Remy after rebuilding my mental defenses and stopped on the sidewalk. Grammy stood on the other side of the street, grinning at Moses, who was visibly uncomfortable with all the attention she was giving him. Joyce laughed, and Perry smiled. They were getting along finally. That was good to see. Curtis shifted his arm, which was still in a sling, and gave me a nod.

  They weren’t the perfect family, but it was close enough for me. Nobody’s perfect.

  THE END

  Dark Revel

  Lazarus Codex Book Eight

  Chapter One

  Grandpa’s Louisville slugger cracked against another zombie skull as it dipped low on the Ferris wheel. Brain matter splattered
the seat and the plastic housing of the gondola. His body slumped over, fingers twitching.

  “Home run! Out of the park!” I mimicked the sound of a cheering crowd. “And the crowd goes wild!”

  A single gunshot barked in the distance, over by the abandoned burger café.

  I shouldered the bloodstained bat and turned to call over my shoulder, “Everything okay, baby?”

  “Don’t talk to me when I’m aiming,” Emma shouted back. Her gun barked again, the shot creating a flash of light just long enough to give me a glimpse of her blood-splattered face.

  A zombie, which had just shambled out the door, jerked and went down.

  “Headshot! That makes six in a row.” Emma flashed a grin. “Loser buys dinner.”

  “I’m at seven. Try to keep up, babe.” I winked and turned back to the Ferris wheel. Nothing like killing supernatural nasties with your super-hot girlfriend after dark.

  The next gondola held a live one; he growled, spat, and struggled against the seatbelt that held him in place, reaching for me. Well, live was a relative term with zombies. Technically, none of them were undead. That was the one thing the movies never quite got right about zombies. Oh, they were dead where it counted. No pulse, no breathing, but the brain didn’t quit thanks to the spell that held them in its power. A spell only a necromancer could use. Seeing as how I was the only necromancer in New Orleans I knew of and I hadn’t made these guys, that meant… I wasn’t sure what it meant just yet. Only that it wasn’t good. I’d deal with it once the zombies themselves were taken care of.

  I wiggled the bat on my shoulder, took aim, and swung it as hard as I could. It hit off-center with a loud crack and his head slumped to the side, but he didn’t stop trying to get to me. Damn. Broke his neck. Not enough to put one of them down. I took another swing and caved in the face. That worked, but my bat got stuck. The gondola kept moving, pulling me along with it.

  “Um, hey, Em? A little help here?”

  “Let go of the bat, Lazarus.” Her voice was closer. She must’ve finished with the zombies in the burger joint and come to poach mine. The nerve.

  I gave the bat a tug, but it was in there good. “Are you kidding? Hank Aaron signed this thing! I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some zombie freak—” I grunted, still trying to pull it free. The edge of the platform loomed. A few more feet.

  Emma’s soft body pressed against my back. Her hands shot out and gripped the bat below mine. With a well-timed yank from both of us, it popped free, leaving gooey red strings of gore dripping onto the metal loading platform. “You almost fell and broke your neck over an autographed bat? Are you crazy?”

  “Certifiable.” I dropped the bat and turned to kiss her. “Call me crazy again.”

  “Later.” Emma knelt to pick up the bat and thrust it at me. “There are still two more zombies.”

  I glanced back at the Ferris wheel on its slow spin. Bloodstains and bodies decorated most of the cars. The rest were empty. No more easy kills here.

  Emma’s boots tapped against the metal stairs as she made her way down from the platform, moving her gun in both directions. There were moments I forgot she was a cop. Homicide detective who’d almost run me in when she thought I’d killed a girl. Funny how times change.

  “Next time, bring something other than a bat, Laz,” she said, lowering her gun. “That thing’s probably worth money. Or was before you coated it in zombie blood.”

  I put my hand on the railing and stepped down from the platform. “Like what exactly? Gun? Ex-con, Emma. Remember? That means no guns without a governor’s pardon, even in Louisiana.”

  “Whatever happened to your staff?”

  I’d broken it in Hell when I went to rescue her. Well, the Egyptian version of Hell. Too bad. I liked that staff. A dryad in the Summer Court had given it to me, and the thing was practically alive. It’d been months and I still hadn’t found a suitable replacement, despite looking all over. I’d picked up all kinds of them, but nothing felt right in my hands.

  I shrugged. “I still need to replace it.”

  “Isn’t that like your badge of office? Not a very proper Death without a big stick.”

  I grinned and picked a tooth out of the end of my bat. “Hey, you didn’t have any complaints about the stick last night.”

  Emma raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re going to turn this into a dick joke?”

  “You walked into it. Besides, I’m really three twelve-year-old boys in a trench coat. Or hadn’t you noticed?”

  She lifted her gun and fired it into the dark. A zombie stopped mid-shamble and fell over, sans a head. “Eight. We’re all tied up.”

  Shit, one zombie left somewhere in a giant, abandoned theme park, and if I didn’t find it, I’d have to buy her dinner, probably at that sushi place she liked again. If I had to eat another ball of rice-covered seaweed with raw fish, I’d throw myself into the Mississippi. I was getting a hamburger, and that was that.

  But first, I had to find the last zombie.

  An old, wooden roller coaster creaked as we walked by it. I paused, glancing up into the beams in search of my last kill. No zombies in sight, but the old Zydeco Scream was the tallest ride here. If I climbed to the top, I’d be able to spot him for sure.

  Unfortunately, those old beams weren’t in good condition. Katrina had swept in and wrecked most of the old Six Flags. With high floodwaters and years of neglect, chances were good that the support beams were rotten. They might not hold my weight.

  “You’re not thinking of climbing up that thing?” Emma said. “It’s a death trap.”

  I shrugged. “You got any better ideas about how to find the missing zombie?”

  “What about your magic? Can’t you… You know?” She waved her hands.

  I shook my head. “Not zombies. They don’t register as dead. All I’d get is a general sense of direction. And he’d be able to sense me back.” He being whoever created the zombies. I was trying not to think too hard about that until after we’d dealt with the immediate threat.

  So far, I was counting on him not knowing who he was screwing with. I could hunt him down and take him by surprise. If I were just another necromancer, it’d be a tough fight, pitting magic against magic. I didn’t want to wade through hordes of zombies and ghosts just to get to the guy. But as the Pale Horseman, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, I had the edge. I could rip out his soul and he’d never see me coming.

  Emma frowned and clicked on her flashlight, flashing it up into the beams. “I think I see a viable way up, but I don’t know. Don’t break your neck, Laz.”

  I gave her a quick peck on the lips. “Be right back.”

  Planks of old, stained wood lined the side of the roller coaster, just far enough that they could serve as a ladder. I gripped the highest rung I could reach and tried it. Solid. Next, I tried the highest one I could get my foot on. It gave under my weight with a loud crack, but the next one down held. Just to be sure, I stayed there a minute, making sure it would hold me. When I was certain, I climbed up.

  At its highest point, the Zydeco Scream was over a hundred feet tall. My aim wasn’t to reach that point, but the bottom of a loop. From there, I could look out over the theme park and try to spot movement. We had to get the last zombie before it left the theme park and got into the population, or there’d be mass panic and paperwork. Emma didn’t want to deal with paperwork, and I’d do anything to keep her happy. Anything except eat one more tuna roll.

  Once I got halfway up, the wind pulled at me. I started to regret the climb. As a kid, I’d climbed my fair share of trees and rooftops. I wasn’t afraid of heights, not in the least. Still, a two-story house was a far cry from a hundred-foot hurricane-damaged roller coaster.

  Keep it together, Laz. You’ve been to Hell and back. You’ve survived the Walk of Punishment in Naraka, and killed the Devil and a handful of gods. You rode a bloodthirsty unicorn into battle against a Titan and came out okay. You can climb a giant wooden ladder.


  I threw my hand up to grip the next beam, and it crumbled in my hand. The sudden lack of something to hold onto sent me scrambling and I momentarily lost my balance, tipping backward. Flailing, I tried to grab onto a beam but tipped back too far. My foot hooked on the beam as I fell, and the world turned upside down.

  So, there I was, dangling upside down from the frame of a rotten roller coaster sixty feet in the air with the wind in my ears and my coat flapping in my face. That was when the last zombie shambled onto the main thoroughfare below. He was a big guy, too. Easily four hundred pounds of pissed-off mindless hunger dressed in a white tank top two sizes too small and baggy sweats. He stumbled toward Emma. She had her back to him, staring wide-eyed up at me.

  “Behind you!” I tried to call, but the board holding my foot cracked. It didn’t give completely, but I was on borrowed time. If I didn’t want to be a smear on the ground below, I’d have to get upright.

  I’m not a gym rat. I do one sit-up a day, half when I get up in the morning and the other half when I lie down. Ninety percent of my cardio came from outrunning things trying to kill me, but I wasn’t much of a runner either. I was just a skinny necromancer with a slight beer gut and a butt that didn’t look half bad in dad jeans. Great for Netflix and chill, not so great for upside-down sit-ups sixty feet in the air.

  I grunted and tried to pull myself up enough to grab one of the wooden rails, but the beam cracked, and I fell through. My foot hit the next one, which also broke, as did the next. Somehow, that got me turned around and my face hit the wooden rail, cracking it with my chin. I slid down the side of the roller coaster face first, watching the ground quickly get closer.

  Meanwhile, the ginormous zombie grabbed Emma’s shoulder and crushed it under his oversized hand. She tried to turn and raise her gun, but he flung her to the ground where she’d be zombie chow.