One Foot in the Grave: An Almost Zombie Tale (16 page)

I had no idea the church had secret doors, but then again, I’ve never walked all the way around it, either. It’s pretty cool.

“How do
you
know about the door? You said you’ve never been here before.”

His answer shocks me. “Callie told me.”

She did
what
?

“She’s a cat.” Trust me to state the utter obvious. I’m good at that.

“She is a kitten. And I am a hell hound. We understand each other when I wish it.” He quirks an eyebrow at me. “That is not all the time, however. She is young and has a young animal’s mind and interests.”

Like adopting a perfect stranger in a cemetery. “You’ll still come with me, right?”

He nods and gets to his feet. “I gave you my word.”

I’m abnormally relieved. If Maxx is there and something goes wrong-the halves break loose and come after me, for instance-I won’t be alone. I may get blamed, but I won’t get eaten. I hope. “Okay, let’s go.”

We amble around the left side of the church first, the side farthest away from the cemetery. It’s not particularly well-tended, either. Plants and roots grow upward from the ground in a massive tangle that kind of makes sense. It’s vibrant, green, mossy, and so very, very
alive
. I wonder if that’s exactly what Father Moss intended; a place where us undead could wander around and feel what we’ll never be again. The weight of that settles itself in my chest, but it’s not as heavy as it used to be. It’s more like a fact than a burden.

“See, there it is,” Maxx says.

I follow his gaze and yup. There it is. A small door with the biggest padlock and chain I’ve ever seen holding it shut. “How the heck am I supposed to get in there?”

“You have the vampire’s strength,” Maxx states. “Use it.”

“I’ve only got the one hand,” I retort.

“Then pull on it with one hand,” the hell-hound practically sneezes his reply

Oh. Duh. Well, aren’t I a bag of smart? I step forward and take the chain in my hand, feeling a lot like The Incredible Hulk. I yank, expecting it to fly apart like tin foil.

The metal rings groan and squeal, but nothing else happens. The chain stays firmly together. How disappointing. I drop it and reach for the padlock. It looks way old and rusted through. I’m sure I’m in for a fight, so to speak, but the thing lives up to its looks and just disintegrates in my hand. A fine black powder rains down to coat my shoes and the chains sag open. Well, that was easy.

Twenty-Eight:

Something Pissed Off This Way Comes.

I put my hand on the latch to the door, twist and push. It opens reluctantly, with a puff of dust
wooshing
out and all over us. I sneeze three times and it’s not because I’m allergic to Maxx.

“Great googly ooglies,” I swear. Okay, so as far as swear words go, they’re pretty silly, but anything else just sounds wrong to my Southern Baptist, hippie upbringing.

“What is a ‘googly ooglie’?” Maxx asks. “And why is it great?”

“It’s just an expression,” I say.

Maxx’s fur is now coated a light brown. He shakes and the dust flies. “I do not understand. What is it an expression of?”

How am I supposed to explain made up words to a hell hound that has a better grasp of the English language than I do?

“It’s just a better word than an actual swear word.” I brush the dust off. “You know what swear words are, right?”

The hell hound nods. “I do, yes. But I have never seen the purpose of using them. It cheapens the entire conversation.”

“We weren’t having a conversation,” I say. “And I wasn’t really swearing. Just kind of.”

He quirks an eyebrow at me. I sigh.

“Fine. I was swearing because I didn’t expect the dust cloud.”

“Humans are odd,” is his only observation. He sneezes and creates his own dust cloud. “Is this when I should say ‘great googly ooglies’?”

I roll my eyes. “Never mind. Let’s go inside…actually, you lead. Y’know, just in case something decides it’s hungry.”

Maxx sneezes again, but this time I know what it means: he thinks what I just said is stupid. I prefer the term ‘prudent’, myself. Either way, I’m the one following him through the door and down the rabbit hole.

The interior isn’t dark and gloomy, though in all honesty I think it should be. Instead, it’s brightly lit and hospital clean. All the dust seems to have accumulated on the door itself. There certainly isn’t any on the floor or the walls. A vague sense of disappointment fills me. I expected moldering walls and lichen; maybe a drippy sound in the background. Instead, a whining kind of hiss reverberates eerily from the stones below my feet. All the hair on my body stands at attention, as though ready to abandon ship at a second’s notice.

“What the heck was
that
?” I don’t even realize I said the words out loud until Maxx replies.

“A were of some sort, though I have never heard that particular sound from one.”

The next hiss nearly stops my heart. It rolls up from the bowels of the church and sounds entirely too much like a tormented soul from the depths of Hell for my liking. Maxx doesn’t even flinch; just keeps on walking. Maybe he’s used to it, considering where he’s from and all, but it completely freaks me out.

“Maxx, I don’t think this is such a hot idea.” I know I’m a coward for saying it, but those sounds are terrifying. I don’t think I want to meet the monster they belong to.

The big dog stops and turns his head to look at me. “We can leave if you like, but your curiosity will never be satisfied if we do.”

“I know.” I
know
, but the thing below us is scary. “It’s locked up, right?”

Maxx’s answer does nothing to reassure me. “If it was roaming free, it would already be up here, tearing you apart. Do you wish to continue or not?”

Sure, let’s go see the insane half. That sounds like a thrill a minute. I nod yes, because I’m stupid like that. And because it was my idea and I do have a sense of pride, misplaced as it is.

The hallway winds itself downward, much like a spiral staircase, but without any stairs or railings of any kind. I rapidly lose all sense of direction, or how deeply underground we are. I just know I’m entirely dependent upon Maxx-so it’s a really good thing I trust him. Somewhere underneath our feet, a door splinters; accompanied by scrabbling, as though claws are fighting to gain purchase.

“Uhhh, Maxx?”

His ears swivel back. “I hear it.”

“Is that the were? Did it get loose?” Oh my Gawd, Father Moss is going to kill me. He seriously is. I’m so screwed.

“Stay behind me.” The hair on Maxx’s back bristles and he’s suddenly, completely, full sized.

I shrink backward as the scrabbling claw sounds get louder. This is going to be bad. I know I shouldn’t shut my eyes, but I do…and say a quick, silent prayer to whatever God exists that I won’t get eaten. And that Maxx won’t die.

The half-creature comes into view and I shrink backwards in anticipation of the coming fight between Maxx and it. The hell hound is already growling, low and rumbling; a steady sound I can feel deep in my chest.

Maxx launches himself at the thing and I only get a glimpse of a vague man-shape before the two are tangled together so completely it’s hard to tell them apart. It’s over almost before it begins. After the initial jump towards the creature, Maxx backs off. I mean, he backs
way
off. The thing doesn’t pursue him at all, which gives me all the time in the world to study it. And I kind of want to do exactly that. I mean, it’s cool. Other than the fact that it’s not even breathing heavily after its tussle with Maxx. That’s kind of definitely horrifying.

“It’s a…were- lizard?” I’d laugh if I wasn’t terrified of it. The thing is beautiful, but it’s also around six feet tall and standing on human-like legs. It’s covered in deep silver scales that look like they’ve been spray painted a light gold. The light gold deepens into a more solid color around its eyes. And its eyes are gorgeous in a flat reptilian way. I’m not close enough to see its pupils, but the irises are lava red flecked with the same gold as its scales. It’s amazing. I take a step toward it before I even realize what I’m doing.

“That thing is
not
a were, Isisss. It is a half-dragon,” Maxx growls. “Stay away from it.”

I blink. “You’re kidding me. It looks like a lizard.”

“It is a half-Komodo dragon. They are giant lizards from Indonesia.” He moves closer to me, until I can feel the heat emanating from him. “Are you sure you wish to pursue this further? We can turn around. It does not appear to be hungry at the moment.”

I’ve never heard of Komodo dragons before, so I’m not sure what the big deal is. “Can’t we walk around it?” After all, it’s hunched against the wall, just squatting there, staring at us.

Maxx sits. “I am not sure it would allow us to move past it.”

The Komodo thing’s tongue flicks out. It’s thin and forked, like a snake. I catch a brief glimpse of shark-like teeth before its mouth snaps shut. Maybe there’s a very good reason why Maxx is acting so cautious. I should take a page out of his book and stop acting as stupid as I feel.

“We can go back, Maxx. I’m okay with that, honest.” I step backward, and the lizard man hisses at me. I freeze. So.
Not
going back, then. “If it’s not hungry, why won’t it let me leave?”

It blinks. Sideways. I mean, its eyelids open and shut from left to right. Rapidly. That’s a blink, right?

“Can you understand me?” I ask. Hey, if it’s half dragon, that means half of it’s human, too. And if it’s human, it can reason. Theoretically.

It opens its mouth. “Ehhhhh…ehhhhh.” It doesn’t sound like anything close to human. I’m not sure why I expected something else; I can see the shape of its mouth, after all. It’s not designed for human speech.

The creature levers itself to its feet, using its front claws? Pads? Hands? For support. Maxx begins to steam. His fearsome jaws open wide and those fun strings of lavaesque saliva make their sizzling way to the ground. This is going to get real ugly real fast. I press myself back against the wall. The last place I want to be is between the giant hell hound and the massive lizard.

Twenty-Nine:

Fight! Fight! Fight!

The lizard opens its mouth wide and I see the rows of serrated teeth, each as long as the first joint of my pinky. Then it flings itself at Maxx, who is standing sideways, protecting me. The half-Komodo’s claws grip him around the middle and rip him away. His body slams into the other wall. Bits of granite rain down from the ceiling to coat us in its dust, but I’m the only one who notices. I sneeze. Maxx finds his footing just as the half-dragon turns its attention towards me. He springs at the lizard, teeth bared. The creature meets him in mid-air, mouth still gaping open. It snaps shut, getting nothing but a mouthful of air. And then Maxx shows me exactly what being a hell hound really means. His eyes begin to glow; his normally black fur burns, orange flames racing across each other before turning to black and repeating the process. My mouth drops open in amazement as my friend sheds his form all together and turns into pure magma. The stones above our heads groan in protest at the heat.

“Uhhh…Maxx?” I don’t even know if he can hear me, let alone answer. He’s too busy burning the Komodo, who is screaming…ummm…hissing its outrage, but seems otherwise unaffected. Maybe it takes longer to burn a lizard than it does a human. I’m no expert. Its claws try to dig into the hell hound, but it can’t get a hold on him. Maxx crackles as the flames leap upward from his back and lick at the ceiling. It’s so noisy I can’t hear myself think. I hunch down and away, resisting the urge to ‘stop, drop and roll’.

“Lydia
told
you to never come down here!”

At the sound of Father Moss’s distinctive voice, everyone stops in mid-fight. The half-Komodo backs away from Maxx, one stumbling step at a time, its skin charred and blackened. Maxx doesn’t regain his shape, but he sits and tilts what looks like his head up at the gargoyle, which is hovering above us like a very pissed off, and avenging, angel. Minus the flaming sword.

“Ra’kul,” he says, then starts hissing and clicking. The half bares its teeth and Father Moss flies directly into its face. It throws its arms above its head, backing away from the stone wings until it vanishes back down the hallway and, presumably, into the bowels of Hell it came from.

Then it’s our turn.

“You disobeyed Lydia, Isis, and could have been seriously injured in the process.” Father Moss lands at my feet. “Not only that, but Ra’kul was hurt and it’s difficult enough to treat wounds when the one bearing them is…” he trails off.

“Crazy? Insane? Wacked out of his head?” I say.

“That’s unkind, Isis,” the gargoyle replies. “Ra’kul was bitten many years ago, but instead of dying, she turned. She’s the only one in existence, and her mind snapped shortly after it happened.”

Oh. The lizard thing is a girl. Oops. “She
was
trying to kill me.”

“Why do you think I had her locked up? Down here, where
no-one
was supposed to go?” He clatters his wings at me. “Why do you new ones never
listen
?”

I’m not sure which question I’m supposed to answer first, so I just do what I do best; try to justify my actions. “Lydia told me I couldn’t come down here without a powerful escort. And I didn’t. I had Maxx.”

How exactly a gargoyle can glare, I’m not really sure, but Father Moss does it. “
You
are ultimately responsible for Maxx’s actions, which caused Ra’kul’s burns. The entirety of this mess is on your head, Isis, and it is up to you to repair it.”

Well, how in the world am I supposed to do
that
?

“To that end,” Father Moss continues, “if you wish to continue to come here, you will help Lydia tend to Ra’kul’s injuries.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he growls at me. I didn’t know he could do that, either. Boy, my education is just increasing by leaps and bounds. My mouth snaps shut.

“It’s called personal responsibility, Isis, and you need to take some. You are
not
allowed to run rampant, doing whatever you wish, and if you continue to do so, the next cell you see will be your own.”