by Ryan Conway
The ghoul, still sitting on Spencer’s torso and practically biting down on the metal pipe, stretched down and snatched the medallion off Spencer’s chest, viciously tearing the lace from around his neck. It stood up immediately off Spencer, clasping its prize. Spencer was relieved, at the very least, that the undead corpse wasn’t trying to eat his brains, but was fully aware of their current predicament.
Sean dashed in with the bat, drawn back to swing at the jiangshi’s head, but was unanticipatedly tackled by a third zombie. He instantly twisted around in mid-tackle and cracked the ghoul upside the head. They tumbled and rolled in the same direction but as soon as Sean regained his footing, he pulled a pistol, aimed, and shot the zombie in the head three times. ‘Bang, bang… Bang!’ He had finally equipped himself with the firearms, stashed in the shuttle, and got close enough to the struggle to use it without risking Spencer’s and Tom’s lives.
As the ghoul, that snatched the medallion from Spencer, leapt away, Shin Li helped Spencer get up from the ground. He yelled, pointing at the fleeing ghoul, “He got the medallion!” Spencer noticed the obvious difference between their previous altercations and their most recent scuffle. “Why are the last ones actually running and jumping around so fast?” He asked breathlessly.
“Those are the most recently deceased,” Shin Li said. “The systems in their bodies haven’t deteriorated as much, so the Vetalas, that possess these bodies, get the best use out of them.” Then she took off, chasing after the leaping zombie with the machete in hand.
“But why are they jumping around like animals?” Spencer asked. “I thought zombies were slow or at least walk and run the way we do.”
“They’re possessed by Vetalas,” Sean said. “They’re going to move around the way Vetalas move around, as long as they’re able.”
Tom had been bashing and spearing the ghoul, he had pulled off Spencer, in the head and all over its upper body. He just finished cleaving the zombie’s head all the way through with the end of the shovel. That crimson Vetalic energy finally drifted up out of the lifeless corpse like smoke from an incense burner and dissipated into the air.
The final ghoul, jumping away in the direction of the cemetery, still held the medallion in its clutches. As the startled and shaken gas station attendants returned to the convenience store to clean it up; Spencer, Sean, Tom, and Shin Li all ran after the creature wielding their respective weapons. Mr. Lee took off in the shuttle, its tank already full, to meet everyone else at the cemetery. He arrived at the entrance even before the jiangshi leapt halfway there.
As the zombie was heading in the direction of the parked shuttle, Mr. Lee stepped out of the vehicle to confront the jumping corpse, but he couldn’t start firing his pistol at it with the rest of the group running not too far behind. He opened the back door where he’d stored the duffle bag of assorted weapons and firearms. Mr. Lee pulled out a hand-held firebomb, like the kind Sean had used in New York during their escape from the city. He whipped it into the zombie’s path and it immediately erupted into an enormous ball of flame. The blast from the bomb set the ghoul’s pants on fire at the bottom and momentarily slowed it down enough for the rest of the gang to catch up.
Sean was the first to swing uninterrupted at the zombie’s head and knocked the already stumbling jiangshi to the ground. Soon Spencer flanked the monster on the other side and smashed his metal pipe into the ghoul’s arm. Tom cracked it in the face with the end of the shovel and Shin Li swiped at its neck hoping to decapitate the monster in one move. The blade of the machete went through about half of the corpse’s neck, but it pulled away and kept trying to escape their attacks. Spencer forcefully swung the pipe once more breaking the leaping cadaver’s wrist and it finally released the medallion.
Spencer swiped the medallion off the ground and escaped to the shuttle, to the jiangshi’s dismay. It immediately set its sights on Spencer once again and leapt toward the groups van in pursuit of the medallion. Spencer jumped into the van through its side door and closed it just in time as the fast zombie plastered its face against the door window. Shin Li slashed the zombie with the machete and unintentionally severed its hand at the wrist. The handless monster leapt away as Sean, Shin Li, and Tom fiercely attacked it.
Just as previously, the hand dropped away from the zombie and fell onto the ground near the back of the van. It jumped up onto its fingertips and scurried around to the back of the van like a cockroach. Mr. Lee jumped into the van and started freaking out over the lively hand running around toward the back of the shuttle. He pulled the hatch closed as quickly as he could, but the running hand jumped up into the back of the shuttle before Mr. Lee got the door closed and latched. He freaked out even more intensely at the severed hand running around inside the van, certainly in pursuit of the medallion. It wasn’t even about it being a supernatural phenomenon or the severed limb of a jiangshi. Mr. Lee just hated anything small that crawled around on more than four legs - or in this case, fingers! Spencer was disturbed by the phenomenon too, but he was also just as mystified, and his curiosity certainly had the better of him in this particular case. “You have to kill the brains inside the skulls,” Sean explained, climbing in the driver seat. Tom jumped into the passenger side as the side door opened again and Shin Li climbed into the backseat.
“B-b-but how can the hands… by themselves?” Spencer stammered.
“That’s the power of the Vetala,” Sean said.
“But the limbs aren’t even attached!” Spencer shouted.
“That’s what he’s trying to tell you,” Tom added.
“Vetalas don’t need the central nervous system to control every part of the body,” Sean explained. “They only need a seat within the brain, or at least what’s left of it, and they can control every part of the body remotely, even if it’s been severed.”
“What?” Spencer yelled.“How?”
“Vetalas are spiritual beings like jinn or demons,” Shin Li said, following up on Sean’s explanation. “They control electrical fields. That’s why they can control the body’s limbs remotely.”
“But as long as you can destroy the brain… You’ll unseat the vetala!” Sean said.
“Then everything stops.”
“Mr. Lee, Now’s a good time for us to switch out!” Sean yelled from the driver seat.
Shin Li found a survival knife among their arsenal and held it securely scanning the inside of the shuttle, knowing the hand was still hiding somewhere among their luggage. All of a sudden the hand jumped out and attacked Spencer like a creature from an alien movie. Spencer yelled, smacked it out of midair, and watched it hit the seat. Shin Li swiftly thrusted the knife through the top of the run-a-way hand without warning. She pinned it to the seat cushion like a pesky, writhing tarantula. For her small stature and meek appearance, Shin Li sure knew how to take care of urgent business and certainly showed a lot more grit than Mr. Lee, who was stumbling backward over the luggage, squeamishly backing himself into the corner, and yelling - practically screaming.
Unaware that the hand had climbed into the shuttle at first, Sean, Shin Li, and Tom hadn’t finished off the lively zombie, which had proven to be too arduous of a fight and too quick of a creature. Eventually the ghoul returned from its temporary retreat, coming back for more. It jumped up onto the windshield, probably trying to get both Spencer’s medallion and its own hand back.
“Everyone, buckle up now!” Sean yelled. He pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor and raced down the road at full speed with the zombie sill hanging onto the windshield. When he knew everyone was buckled, he slammed on the breaks, throwing everyone forward in their seatbelts, and launching the zombie forward onto the road, rapidly tumbling across the pavement and breaking the bones of its limbs. It landed, laying sideways on the street in the shuttle’s headlights in full view for the whole gang to see. The possessed corpse stared back at the van with an ever intensifying red glow burning from the pupils of its eyes. Sean watched with the van’s engine idling for
about ten seconds before pushing the gas to the floor one last time. Everyone felt the shuttle thump and rattle with the instant explosion of the final Vetala, being violently unseated from the obliteration of the corpse’s head. In that same instant the wriggling hand, pinned down to the seat, ceased moving and lost its slight reddish glow, as it reverted back into a dead, bleeding hand laying in its little puddle of blood. Shin Li immediately lowered the window and flicked it off the end of the survival knife while whispering another chant. “Mithbi Ashak,” She said concluding her prayer.
Before continuing on their journey, Sean stopped by the gas station one last time to check up on the lady and the older man. Spencer and Tom bought the snacks and drinks, they had been looking at earlier but had not gotten the chance to purchase. Shin Li made sure the two workers were alright and informed them, that the last of the jiangshi was destroyed, hopefully putting their minds a little more at ease about the ordeal. They returned the tools, they had just used as weapons against the small platoon of undead and thanked the couple for handing them out. The old clerk and the lady were not only surprised, but also extremely grateful, after Sean provided them with the funds to help repair the damages and renovate the gas station. After making sure everything was better, Sean and the group returned to the van and got back underway. Even though Mr. Lee was buckled in, he was already fast asleep in the back seat.
“So, what just happened back there?” Spencer asked in shock, “I thought zombies were just movie magic!” He exclaimed.
“They were ghouls,” Shin Li said.
“So, what are Vetalas exactly?” Spencer asked.
“They’re like demons?” Sean stated, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove through the night.
“Yeah, they’re an entity from the fire realm,” Tom added, “You know, beings made of smokeless fire.”
“But why did that just happen?” Spencer shakily asked, staring back in the direction of the gas station. “Why were they after the amulet?”
“They were definitely sent,” Tom answered. “But the question now is, who sent them?”
“Do you think the Tamisichians sent them?” Spencer asked, “And how did they know where to find us?”
“This is exactly the reason we’re not overnighting in a hotel,” Sean reminded everyone.
“The Tamisichians must’ve known we’d be taking this route,” Shin Li stated. “But I can’t figure out, how they could know, we would stop at that particular gas station.”
“Maybe they didn’t have to know,” Tom responded. “They could be following us the whole way.”
“But where are they then?” Spencer asked. “Why wouldn’t we be able to see them if they’re following us? Are they invisible like those beings that attacked Drake at my house?”
“No, they don’t have chameleon forces like we do,” Sean insisted. “But they could be hiding out in the shadows or using some otherworldly forces to conceal themselves… but it’s more likely that they’re watching us from afar.”
Then another possibility dawned on Spencer. “Could it be those guys, who were watching us at the airport? Spencer asked, “Could they’ve followed us without our knowledge?”
“That’s a good question,” Sean commented.
“And if it is, who are they?” Spencer asked, pondering out loud. “Mr. Wong and you guys have been telling me about the evil membership in Tiandihui. Could it be them?”
“But even if there were a cult within Tiandihui, that dabbled in the kind of black magic we witnessed tonight,” Shin Li started to explain, “they would most likely be Tamisichian forces.”
“Yeah, even the most malicious cults with connections to Tiandihui, wouldn’t be able to summon the dead.” Tom insisted. “Not unless they’ve got otherworldly help like Tamisichians.”
Chapter Thirteen
Wudang and Chinese Medicine
I t was already later the next morning as the shuttle finally reached the foot of Wudang Mountain. A steep, rocky staircase, like something out of a movie about a Himalayan Buddhist temple, wound its way along the mountainside and cut through scenic rock formations and small aromatic groves of blossoming trees. The air became misty as they continued their march skyward. Their trek upward was exhilarating and wonderfully picturesque, but the path was quite long; at one point, Spencer found himself wishing for a ski-lift or something of the sort. Under normal circumstances, he’d be energized and full of pep, to take on such a physical challenge, but the encounter with the undead left Spencer more shaken up and exhausted than usual. After an arduous climb, though, the group finally arrived in a fantasy world with a magnificent view. The staircase passed through what Spencer thought was just fog, to surface on a tranquil sea of low-drifting clouds, punctuated by mountaintops that rose above the clouds like forested islands.
Multiple red buildings of various sizes, all with green, ribbed, steeply inclined roofs, adorned Wudang Mountain. They all bore decorative crests, with mostly dragon and bird motifs, and were connected by a continuous series of staircases and steps that ascended to the temple structures at the summit of the mountain. Droves of tourists from all over the world climbed the long flights of stairs, took photos, and walked around marveling at both the architecture and the heavenly scenery.
The group reached the last few steps, coming to rest on a wide courtyard occupying a manmade plateau. On the other side of the courtyard stood what Shin Li told them was the Purple Cloud Temple, a large structure at the top of a steep flight of stairs. Its red exterior matched the rest of the buildings and temple complexes, wrapping around Wudang Mountain, and like the rest, it was topped with a green, ridged roof. The rather ornate building bore a gold fringe lining the ridges of the roof and the matching awning that surrounded the complex like a belt. Signs written in traditional Chinese calligraphy hung above red lattice windows, and high up on the face of the temple just below the overhang of the roof. Halfway up the staircase leading to the Purple Cloud Temple stood a tall, solid, pagoda-shaped pot, emitting fragrant smoke that rose from the embers of burning incense.
A formation of people engaged in tai chi were performing slow movements of their arms and legs in unison, all following an elderly man standing in front of the formation, facing the same direction. As he watched, it was hard for Spencer to believe that tai chi had begun as a martial art. As they walked past the practitioners, he heard the sweet melody of a flute, and stopped abruptly. "Where's that music coming from?" he asked.
"That would be Master Yan, I suspect," Sean replied.
Spencer looked to the side of the courtyard, where a robed, elderly man sat with folded legs on a smooth rock in the shade of a small tree, a wooden flute to his lips. He looked almost too picturesque to be real, and a small group of tourists were snapping pictures of him. As they moved away, Spencer and his group approached, drawn by the music. Without changing his position or turning his head, Master Yan opened his eyes and looked up at his newly arrived visitors. He immediately stopped playing, and grinned widely before lowering the flute to his lap. Sean stood before the old man, cupped a fist, and gave a slight bow. "We've arrived on orders from Master Xin," he announced.
"I am so glad you all are here now," Master Yan said. "Brother Galloway, it is very good to see you again."
"Thank you, Master Yan. It's good to see you again too."
Then Master Yan turned to Spencer and Tom. "And you must be Spencer Callaghan and Thomas Englewood, is this correct?"
"Yes sir, I'm Tom Englewood and this is Spencer," Tom answered for them both.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Welcome to Wudang Mountain," Master Yan said, nodding at Shin Li. In one fluid movement, he stood and tucked his flute into his sash, before walking toward a steep staircase on the other side of the courtyard. "Please, follow me."
"That was a beautiful melody," Spencer said. "Was it a traditional accompaniment for the people doing tai chi?"
"Actually, it was a down-tempo version of a Sixties pop song called
'Love is Blue,'" the Master chortled, eyes sparkling. "Before your time, I suppose. But it is a lovely tune, is it not? And it does help create a peaceful atmosphere to perform and practice qigong and tai chi," Master Yan replied. "But most of all, it creates an atmosphere of harmony. Human happiness comes from perfect harmony with one's fellow beings, and the source of divine happiness is complete accord with God. So, to be good is to truly be happy."
"I wish it were that easy for me," Spencer said wistfully.
"It can be, brother. You must learn to find balance in your life and in your perception of the world around you, because the Tao of heaven is forever with the good."
They trudged up the stairs, following Master Yan, as he continued, "Allow me to show all of you your accommodations first. And then I'll show you around Wudang, if you would like."
Spencer wasn't sure he'd be able to handle all that, given the stair-climbing involved.
After leading them through the large, red doors of the Purple Cloud temple complex, Master Yan led the group through the tourist area, where Buddhist monks could be observed sitting in meditation. They continued back to a private room in the back, and were allowed the special privilege of accompanying Master Yan into his small office. The walls of the room appeared to be made up entirely of rolled-up scrolls and ancient texts.
In the privacy of the office, Master Yan strolled over to a row of ceremonial bells hanging from the wall. He pulled down on five ropes in a particular order, so the bells rang in a distinctive a melody. A few seconds after ringing the last bell, one of the bookshelves receded into the wall and slid behind the bookcase next to it, revealing yet another stone staircase that appeared to descend into the temple's tall base, and perhaps even further down into the mountain. The flight of stairs was illuminated by an array of equidistant lanterns.
They followed Master Yan down in the steps in single file, and the wall closed up behind Shin Li, the last member of the group to enter the passageway. When they reached the bottom of the staircase, they found themselves in a hall surrounded by doors. Each led to a Shanzenian guest room furnished with a bed, a nightstand, a dresser, a closet, a desk, a table, and a few chairs. Master Yan introduced each member of the group to his or her individual room, and they all stowed away their belongings. Each room was like a miniature library, with small bookcases against every wall containing scrolls, manuscripts, and regular books, both ancient and modern.
