Acheron Highway: A Jonathan Shade Novel (14 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Von called me as I drove and told me they’d liquefied all the bodies in the Denver metro area.
 
She started to go back into how they were going to send me a bill for it, but I’d heard that song before, so when I pulled into the parking lot at Monaco Lanes, I pretended to lose the signal.

The distinctive sound of rolling balls striking pins hit me as I entered the bowling alley.
 
The place was packed.
 
I scanned the lanes for Walter and his teammates.
 
They practiced at the far end.
 
I walked down to them.
 
The table behind the lane was buried in coats, and their street shoes sat beneath it.
 
Bowling balls lined the ball rack around the return.

Walter stood on the approach, holding the ball and staring at the pins.
 
Then he looked down and adjusted his stance.
 
He pushed the ball out from his chest as he approached the line, let the ball swing back, then swung forward and released.
 
The ball hit the lane over the second arrow and curved quickly right between the head pin and the three pin.
 
It struck hard and the pins flew every which way but left the ten pin standing.

“Oh, the widow won’t go down.
 
You got robbed!” Lou said.

Walter walked back to the rack and held his hand over the air vent.
 
He glanced back at me.
 
“With you in a second.”

“No worries,” I said and sat down next to Fred and Cynthia.

I glanced up at the score, which lit up on the panel at their table.
 
They were in the fifth frame.
 
Looked like Walter was the anchor, playing last.
 
He was also the best bowler.

I heard the
chunk
chunk
of the ball coming up the return.
 
Walter spun it around so he could slip his fingers into the holes then stood on the far left of the approach.
 
He looked at the ten pin then lowered his gaze.
 
He walked toward it, pushing out and swinging.
 
He released the ball over the center arrow, and the ball shot straight down the lane and smacked the ten straight on.

“Nice pickup,” Lou said.

“You a bowler, Jonathan?” Walter asked me as the pins reset behind him and Lou rose to take his turn.

“Not really,” I said.
 
“I played in a league back in college mostly to spend time with a girl who liked to play.”

Walter sat down beside me.
 
“I’m not sure what you’re after, but it’s in the basement of Zach’s house.”

“Interesting.”

We watched Fred roll a three.

“I wondered if you were trying to find Zach specifically, but I didn’t see him there.
 
On a whim, I thought I’d see if I could locate him for you too.”

“And?”

Walter sighed.
 
“I think he’s underground.”

Fred tossed a gutter ball, and Cynthia shook her head as she went to find her ball.
 
Walter watched her, so I knew we’d have to wait until she took her shot to resume the conversation.

Cynthia rolled a seven.

“You can pick that up,” Walter said.

She nodded.
 
“I know.”

“Underground?” I asked.

“Oh yeah.
 
He’s buried in his own backyard.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

“Dead?”

“He wouldn’t be alive down there.”

“You sure it was him?”

“Pretty sure.
 
May have to dig him up to verify it, though.”

“That won’t be possible.”

“Nonsense.
 
I have a shovel in the garage.”

Cynthia picked up the spare with no trouble.

She high-fived everyone as she stepped off the lane.

“Nice,” I said.
 
I turned back to Walter and lowered my voice.
 
“His body won’t be there now.”

“He’s up and about already?
 
I just checked on him half an hour ago.”

“Nobody will be up and about anymore.
 
That
Zevon
song has reached its end.”

Lou took his shot down the alley and rolled an easy strike.
 
He took a bow as he stepped off the lane.

“Just throw money,” he said.

“Be right back,” Walter said.
 
“Nice shot.
 
My turn.”

Walter took his ball and stepped onto the lane.
 
He looked back at the group, grinned, then walked up and threw a strike pretty as you please.

He did the high-five routine then sat down again.
 
“So why won’t Zach be getting up?
 
I mean, aside from being dead and all.”

“His body won’t be there because it was liquefied about ten minutes ago.”

“So he’s a skeleton?”

“I’d think the skeleton would be liquefied too…or crumbled to dust.”

“I think you’re wrong about that.”

“Why?”

“Because
they’re
not liquefied or crumbling,” Walter said and pointed toward the bowling alley entrance.

Somebody screamed.

I stood and turned toward the entrance and saw an army of walking skeletons pushing through the doors.
 
One of them shoved a big man aside.
 
It looked left and right then focused on me and pointed.
 
The skeletons marched toward us, their bones clacking on the tiles.

I pushed Walter behind me.
 
“Well, shit.”

“I think I just did,” Walter said.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The skeletons split up and formed two rows as they moved toward us.

I heard more people scream, and the bowlers all rose and raced toward the exits that weren’t blocked by the skeletons.
 
Of course, we didn’t have an exit anywhere near us.
 
In fact, our only way out was behind the approaching army.
 
I stopped counting at twenty-five, so there had to be at least thirty-five or forty skeletons clicking and rattling their way toward us.

The people on the lane next to us ran onto the alley and tried to go around the attackers, but the skeletons blocked their path.
 
They didn’t speak, probably because they didn’t have vocal cords.
 
Their mandibles champed and clicked.
 
One of them seemed to be the leader.
 
He (or she—it was hard to tell) turned his skull toward the fleeing bowlers, and several skeletons leaped at them, swinging fists and driving femurs into flesh, but didn’t pursue them.
 
The people might have a few bruises, but they managed to make it to the exit and get away.
 
A wave of relief swept over me.
 
I didn’t want to get anyone hurt or killed.

The leader pointed at me and lowered his skull as if he were preparing to charge.

“What do we do?” Walter asked.

“Get as far away from them as you can.
 
I’ll try to create an exit for you.”

I grabbed a bowling ball from the ball rack and jumped off the lane onto the tiled floor that led to the concession stand and the exit.
 
Several skeletons were in range, so I rolled the ball hard and fast at them.
 
The ball struck their feet and sent them skulls first into the floor.
 
When they hit, the skeletons shattered, bones flying every which way.

“Strike!” Walter yelled.

“They’re not really after you,” I said, grabbing another ball.
 
“I’ll clear them out, and you get everyone out of here.”
 
I rolled another ball and knocked over a few more attackers, but they were gaining ground.

Walter and his team grabbed bowling balls and followed my lead, rolling them toward the skeletons.

I appreciated their efforts, but I wanted them to just run away.
 
I knew these guys were after me.

“Walter, at least get Cynthia out of here,” I said.

Cynthia stood transfixed, staring at the skeletal army.
 
I worried she might have a heart attack, but she glared and reached for a bowling ball to roll at them herself.

I grabbed another ball and threw it.
 
Then, without waiting to see how it went, I vaulted over the counter to the table and raced onto the alley itself.
 
The skeletons followed me, as I knew they would, which cleared out space for everyone else to escape.
 
I grabbed another ball from the rack around the ball return.
 
I rolled it hard across the boards.
 
The ball rolled across the approach toward several skeletons.
 
The first one jumped over the ball, but the guy behind him wasn’t so lucky.
 
He hit the boards with a loud crash.
 
His arms went one way, and his skull bounced up and hit another skeleton in the femur.

“You can’t go on the lanes; you’re wearing street shoes,” Fred said.

I ignored him, pulled off my coat, twisted it, and moved toward the approaching army.
 
When the closest guy reached for me, I quickly wrapped my coat around his arm, twisted, and sent him to the floor.
 
He slid over the foul line, and the buzzer went off.

Skeletal fingers grabbed me and pulled me, but I jerked free, planted, spun, and kicked the guy in the sternum.
 
He flew back and sent bones flying and crashing to the floor.
 
I used a roundhouse kick on the next guy then shoved another guy hard into several more.

I didn’t want to punch them because I worried that I’d break my hands on the bones, so I elbowed another guy in the jaw, and the skull popped off the neck, bounced along the boards, hit the lane, and slid into the gutter.

A skeleton grabbed me and threw me down the alley.
 
The lane was slick, and I slid halfway down before I was able to stop myself and clamber to my feet.

“Get out of here!” I yelled to Walter and the others.

As I rose, another skeleton jumped across from the next lane but tripped in the gutter.
 
As he fell, he hit me and took me to the floor again.
 
He landed on top of me, so I kicked him away and pushed myself up.
 
Unfortunately he got up too.
 
I kicked him hard, and he fell on his back and slid into the pins, knocking them all down.

“Another strike,” I said, though I doubt anyone was close enough to hear me.
 
I couldn’t turn to check on the team.
 
I had my hands full.
 
I hoped they were safely out the exit by now.

The guy in the pit started crawling out, but the gate dropped and swept him back, knocking him apart.
 
As I backed toward the next lane, I saw his skull drop down the return and heard an awful
ka-chunk, ka-chunk
sound moving up the covered ball return toward the front of the alley.

Sure enough, the skull came up the ball return and clattered around the ball rack until it hit one of the bowling balls, where it came to a stop and tipped over, the mandibles clacking open in accusation.

Two skeletons closed on me, so I dropped to the floor and swept their feet out from under them.
 
They crashed to the alley, and their bones bounced around me.

Two more skeletons reached for me, but I grabbed a fallen bone and used it like a baseball bat to knock their hands off.
 
One raised its forearm and rotated the radius to see that the hand was gone.
 
Its mandible dropped as if in confusion, but by then I cracked him in the face with what was left of the bone.

The cacophony of clacking metatarsals on the polyurethane kept me from hearing the skeleton behind me.
 
I felt the fingers dig into my throat.
 
I twisted around, feeling my flesh rip.
 
I smacked the son of a bitch with the broken femur, shattering his clavicle.

I touched my throat, and my fingers came away covered with blood.
 
I saw crimson dripping onto the approach runway of the lane.
 
At first it didn’t hurt that bad, but a moment later, it throbbed and I felt blood pouring down my shirt.

I threw the femur at the closest skeleton then raced down the lane.
 
I slid like a baseball player going for home and crashed through the pins but left the widow standing.
 
Skeletons tried to follow me, but the gate dropped on the first guy, decapitating him.
 
I found myself in the pit.
 
The cushion gave way, and I managed to squeeze through to the back room.

I didn’t see anyone back there as I crawled through the complex web of metal.
 
I pulled off my shirt and held it to my throat to try to stop the bleeding.
 
I felt like I was ready to pass out, but I had to keep going.

Leaning against the metal bars at the end of the lane, I pulled air into my lungs and felt a multitude of aches and pains from where the skeletons had pounded on me.
 
I staggered toward the back wall.
 
A push broom leaned against it.
 
I grabbed the broom with my right hand while using my left to hold my shirt to my throat.

A clanking noise behind me caught my attention.
 
I spun and saw several skeletons crawling through the back of the lanes.
 
Skeletal fingers gripped the metal bars, and the skull popped up, empty eye sockets directed right at me.

How could the bastards see?
 
It didn’t really matter, but I was curious.
 
They didn’t have eyes, but they seemed to be looking at me anyway.
 
I had to laugh about my life.
 
How many people faced with animated skeletons would be wondering how they could see?
 
Most folks would be wondering how they were even upright and mobile.
 
Of course, I knew that was just a question of magic, so the sight had to be a magic thing too.

I laughed so hard, I had to drop to one knee.
 
Naturally I knew I’d lost a lot of blood, and I was already feeling the effects.
 
I tied the shirt around my neck as tightly as I felt I could handle then, still laughing, pushed myself back to my feet and held the broom in front of me.
 
If these bastards were going to kill me, I was going to take as many of them with me as I could.
 
Go down fighting.

“Bring it on,” I said, but really, it was all I could do to stay on my feet.

I glanced down and saw that my shoes were covered in blood.
 
My jeans were ruined too.
 
I sighed.
 
They were new jeans.
 
Forty bucks on sale.
 
What a waste.

About that time, the air shimmered, then everything started fading to black.

I shook my head.
 
I knew I needed to keep my wits about me or these boney bastards would kill me for sure.
 
I backed away from where the skeleton struggled to get free of the lane.
 
An exit sign glowed on the wall behind me.

Keeping the broom in hand, I moved as quickly as I could to the exit door.
 
The metal bar had a sign that read,
Emergency Exit Only.
 
Alarm Will Sound.

Somehow this seemed like an emergency, so I pushed through it, and the alarm screeched like a pterodactyl in heat.
 
I staggered into the frigid air.

My teeth started chattering, and I hugged myself.
 
Going outside in twenty-degree weather without a shirt or jacket is not something I’d recommend.
 
Fortunately there were no skeletons on the side of the bowling alley.

Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer, and the alarm kept screeching behind me.
 
I staggered, bumped into a Dumpster, and slid to the ground.

My sight grew dim.
 
I felt the cold, but I didn’t care.
 
Nothing but rest mattered right now.
 
If I could just sit here for a few minutes.
 
My eyes drooped but I forced them back open.
 
Sleep wouldn’t be a bad thing.
 
Just go to sleep.
 
It could all be over.
 
I’d given enough, hadn’t I?
 
I deserved a permanent vacation.
 
I felt myself fading, and I let my eyes slide shut again.
 
The cold no longer mattered.
 
I barely felt it.

Good-bye, world.
 
Not so nice knowing you.

The crunching of tires on gravel made me open my eyes.
 
A car approached.
 
It stopped beside me, and I tried to look up, but it took too much effort.

“Need a ride?” Walter asked as he stepped out of the car.

“Go away,” I said but didn’t move.

“Damn, you’re in a bad way.
 
Lou, help me get him in the car.”

Lou and Walter picked me up and helped me into the backseat.

“Cynthia and Fred took their own cars,” Walter said.
 
“I’ll crank up the heat.
 
Lou, hook up the GPS.
 
Let’s find the nearest hospital.”

“No,” I said.
 
“Just tell Kelly it’s all right.”

“You need a doctor.”