One Foot in the Grave: An Almost Zombie Tale (22 page)

“Some of us live here, some of us live there. As I said, it’s all about free will. There will always be angels in both places, just like there will always be demons to balance us out both here and in Hell.”

And just like that, my mind is blown. I think I’m done with this conversation. I definitely don’t want any information on how many demons are roaming the streets of Atlanta. I’d never sleep again. I open the door. The sidewalk in front of the club is hoppin’. The bouncer is trying to turn the milling crowd into something resembling a straight line. I close the cab door and walk to the front of the nebulous demarcation.

“Hey, that’s not fair, cutting in line!” “Why does she get in first??”

The protests rise, but I ignore them. Explaining I’m not going to the club when I’m walking in the front doors would just be an exercise in futility. The bouncer lets me in. Good memory, I guess.

The noise hits me square in the face. Good thing I love swing music. All the tables are full and it’s standing room only close to the stage. It doesn’t take me long, even in my distracted state, to notice why. The woman onstage is breathtaking, and it’s not just her voice, which sounds like a chorus of angels. It’s the freakin’
wings of fire
that flow off her back and trail sparks as she paces from one side of the stage to the other. I want to watch her, but I have the sneaking suspicion Nacelles would
not
understand my fascination. I navigate the undulating sea of people, skirting the edges of the crowd, heading straight for the secret door and Nacelles’ staircase. No-one pays any attention to me and I reach the door at the bottom in record time. It stands open, almost like an invitation. Tucker is nowhere in sight. Instead, Maxx is waiting on me. I can’t help myself. I smile.

“Hey, Maxx, are you here to escort me to my cell?” I try to joke about it, but I can hear the nervousness in my own voice.

“Nacelles thought it might be easier if I was here,” the hell hound replies. He looks at me. “It will be all right, Isisss. His experiment will not harm you.”

I wish I could be as sure as he is, but I just nod and follow him down the hall that never ends. Until, y’know, it ends in the cell, which is weird but down here we’re playing by Nacelles’s rules. The cell takes up the entire width of the hall and it’s got a bed that looks more comfy than the one currently in my apartment. That’s not what I expected, and not so bad. I’m pretty sure I can deal with it.

“So how does this work?” I turn around to speak to Maxx and find myself facing Nacelles instead. That’s relatively disconcerting.

“Once you’re settled in, I’ll array a sample of raw brains on covered plates just outside the cell,” the lich explains. “When I uncover each plate, you’ll smell the brains and tell me what, if any, reaction you have.”

“I thought I had to eat them…” I trail off when I realize I sound kind of disappointed. Yuck.

Nacelles laughs; it’s like he knows what I’m feeling. Who knows, maybe he does. “I considered it for a time, but if you’re dreaming of eating humans, I’d rather not risk it.”

I look around. “So what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Twiddle my thumbs?” It’s snarky; I know it is, but my nerves have gotten the better of me. “Can I go back upstairs and listen to the singer?”

The lich shakes his head. “I’m afraid our experiments can’t wait, and Phoenix is only in town for a short while. Besides, it’s past time I fed the ghouls, and you would not be able to return. I’ll come back once that is done, and we can get started.”

“Is she an actual phoenix, or is that just a stage name?”

“Her story is…complicated,” Nacelles replies, “and doesn’t get us any closer to your brain conundrum. The cell, if you please.”

I walk inside and close the door. “Do I get something to eat, too?”

“You didn’t eat before you came?” The lich asks.

“Well, no. I kind of thought the point was to come hungry, so I could taste test…” I trail off when I realize how weird that sounds.

“I will ensure you’re brought some pork brains,” he replies. “Since we already know you can stomach those.”

Gee, he sounds so magnanimous, allowing me to eat before subjecting me to his experiments. I almost feel warm and fuzzy.

“I will keep you company,” Maxx offers.

Nacelles raises his almost invisible eyebrows as he looks at first Maxx, then me. “It appears my companion has taken a liking to you.”

“She introduced me to chicken.” Maxx licks his chops.

“I took him to KFC
once
,” I sound defensive even to myself.

“I see,” Nacelles replies. “Stay if you wish, Maxx. I don’t need your services tonight.”

The enormous hound lies down in front of the cell door and rests his giant head on his paws.

I don’t want to see those skinny, shark toothed ghouls that’ll be wandering around down here. The idea is terrifying, since I’m at least somewhat alive and they eat flesh. I have no idea how strong they are and if they can get in the cell, I’m so screwed. But I do trust Maxx and I think that’s enough to keep me safe. I sit on the bed, lean back against the wall and close my eyes.

“What are you doing, Isisss?”

I open my eyes. The hallway is empty, except for Maxx. “I’m willing the ghouls not to come in here,” I admit. It sounds stupid now that I’m saying it out loud.

He tilts his giant head to look at me. “There are no ghouls here,” he states. “However, Nacelles has not released them yet, and even if he had, you would not be able to will them away with the power of your mind. You are flesh and they are hungry.”

Great. I can’t wait ‘til they get here, then.

“I can keep you safe.” Maxx understands my apprehension, though I can’t imagine anything big enough to scare him.

“Thanks,” I say, right as the weird growling moans I’ve heard before echo down the hall. Oh yay. It’s dinner time.

Thirty-Eight:

Feed Me, Seymour!

It’s said dogs can smell fear, and I guess that applies to hell-hounds too, because Maxx’s nostrils flair as he scents the air. I’m not sure if he smells me or the ghouls. I think it’s me, since the idea of the ghouls scares me silly and I’m pretty sure those monsters aren’t scared of anything.

“Move to the back of the cage,” Maxx instructs.

I’m already sitting against the wall, but I squish further back. I definitely don’t want them reaching through the bars and grabbing me. “Can they…are they strong enough to break the bars?”

Maxx coughs. I think it’s his version of laughing. “They were human,” is his only response.

That’s not comforting and it becomes even less so when I can hear the tapping of men’s dress shoes on the concrete floor, heading in our direction. It’s not long before I see them, marching towards me in neat rows. They almost look human, if not for the bared teeth and the drool snaking down their chins.

Maxx rumbles low in his throat. “This food is not meant for you.”

“All the food is ours,” one of the ghouls says. I’m pretty sure it’s the same one who threatened me before, but I’m not sure. They all look alike.

Maxx lumbers to his feet, hackles rising across his back in rows. It’d look impressive on an extra- large dog. On an eighteen hundred pound hell hound ‘impressive’ seems like a super shallow word to use. I wonder if he’s going to turn into lava, I mean magma, again. “Not this food.”

The lead ghoul narrows its eyes. “We answer to the lich, not to you.” Its tongue snakes across its lips. “And we’re hungry.”

“Then go find the meat Nacelles left for you,” Maxx growls. Saliva drips from his jowls to the concrete and steams in puddles the size of my palm.

The ghoul bares its teeth and turns to its companions. They huddle together; I can only assume mumbling and plotting.

“Hey, Maxx,” I whisper, hoping they don’t hear me. His ear flicks back in response. “I wonder if they taste like chicken.”

“Mmmmm…chicken…” he rumbles, so low I feel it more with my skull than hear it with my ears.

It’s mean, I know it is…but hey, they want to eat me. I think sic’ing Maxx on them is fair, though Nacelles might not agree. Maxx’s ears flatten and he rushes the bunched up ghouls. Oops. To their credit, they don’t scatter. I know I would. I mean, he’s eighteen hundred pounds and freakin’
huge.
Even though I can see the writing on the wall, I don’t close my eyes. It’s like watching a train wreck; you know it’s going to be bad, but you can’t look away.

It’s way worse than bad. Maxx doesn’t change shape, but it’s still a massacre. The ghouls don’t stand a chance. I almost feel sorry for them. Almost, but not quite, all things considered. I change my mind and squinch my eyes tight when the lead ghoul screams. Turns out I’m not that interested in watching the blood-bath, after all. The sounds are bad enough. Maxx’s growls rise above the higher pitched screams of the undead. A continuous wet tearing makes me shudder.

“Thish,” Maxx says. I crack open one eye. He drops an arm, an entire freakin’ arm, at my feet. What is it with him and arms, anyway? “Does not taste like chicken, either.” His tone is accusing and I stifle a totally inappropriate laugh.

“Did you kill them all?”

He shakes his head. “They are ghouls. After a time, they ran.”

“Do you think they’ll be back?” I refuse to look beyond Maxx. I’m sure I’ll see bodies. I can live without that.

“Maxx, come here.”

Maxx’s ears flatten against his head at the sound of Nacelles’ voice. He shrinks down to the size of a baby elephant and almost oozes across the floor to where the lich stands, foot tapping.

“Well?” Nacelles doesn’t sound particularly angry at Maxx. He doesn’t sound like anything. His voice is just flat. And he’s got a bowl of what I hope are brains in one hand. My stomach growls in response.

“She said they would taste like chicken,” Maxx mumbles.

I flush. “I didn’t exactly say that…and they wanted to attack me!” I protest. I refuse to let Nacelles make me feel bad for what I said. Darn it.

“You’re caged,” the lich points out. “And the ghouls would not have attacked unprovoked. Maxx, you are becoming quite attached to our zombie, it seems.”

Maxx nods. “She entertains me. And I like her church.”

“Then I believe it’s time for us to part ways. At least for a time,” Nacelles says. “You seem to be able to keep Isis alive, and I think remaining her companion would benefit both of you.”

I want to cheer, but instead bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw my sluggishly running blood to the surface. I swallow the copper tasting stuff with not even a shiver. Maxx is going to live with me. How cool is that?

Maxx sneezes a couple of times. Usually that’s a sure sign of ‘Isis, you’re being stupid!’ but in this case I have no idea if that stands for ‘Okay, this is awesome!’ or ‘Crap, I’m stuck with her.’

“Are you mad at him?” I ask Nacelles. “Is that why you’re punishing him?”

The lich raises one leathery eyebrow. “I’m not punishing him. He’s taken a liking to you, and hell hounds don’t make friends without a lot of thought. Besides, this way he can eat chicken as much as he wishes, and the burden of it will be on you, not me.”

“How much longer do I need to stay in here?” I rattle the bars.

“We can begin our experiment now, if you wish.”

“Do I get to eat first?”

The lich tilts the covered Tupperware through the cage and I take it, popping the lid open and tilting the bowl upward. So I’m hungry.

Nacelles ignores my non-existent manners and waves one hand in a shooing motion. The ghoul bodies, which I still refuse to look directly at, melt into the floor at the same time a table with five covered dishes appears. “There are five different types of raw brains,” the lich informs me. “There’s deer, goat, monkey, human and dog.”

Maxx barks more than once. I think he’s a bit concerned, so I try to reassure him. “I’m pretty sure hell-hounds aren’t on the menu.”

He sneezes again. It’s all I’m going to get. I put the now empty bowl on the floor and wipe my hand across my mouth, staring at the covered dishes. “So all I have to do is smell the brains?”

The lich nods. “When I direct you, close your eyes and breathe, as though smelling your favorite steak.”

Sounds simple enough, even if the steak I’ll be thinking of is a slab of raw meat that oozes blood when pushed. “Why don’t you have any cow brains?”

“We don’t want to propagate Mad Cow Disease, do we?”

Well, I hadn’t thought of that. Huh.

Maxx strolls back to me, full size once more. He sits close to the cell; his back pressed near enough that I can stretch my hands through the bars and touch him. I do exactly that, combing my fingers through his fur over and over. It’s almost like rubbing a worry stone. I feel the nervousness slide off me.

Nacelles nods at me and I close my eyes, trying not to think of the fact that I’m inhaling brain stench.

“How do you feel?” The lich asks. He reaches up and pulls a small black notebook out of thin air, complete with a pen. I guess he’s planning on taking notes.

If not for the utter ridiculousness of the whole situation I’d almost believe he was the count from The Princess Bride book. Unlike Westley, though, I don’t cry. I open my eyes and shrug. “Fine, I guess. How should I feel?”

Instead of answering me, he continues with the interrogation. “What does it smell like?”

My nostrils flare as I breathe deep. “It smells sweet and citrusy.” I close my eyes. “Like pineapples coated in oranges.”

“Anything else?” He scribbles something in the notebook. Makes sense; he did say he’s a researcher. And I’m the current research.

I’m not sure what he’s asking, but I take another breath. And a rush of saliva fills my mouth. I swallow. “It’s…good.”

He frowns. “Do you want to eat them?”

I open my mouth to deny it, but pause instead. “Yeah, I do.” I open my eyes. “Should I?”

“There isn’t any wrong answer to this, Isis.” He covers the plate again. “It’s interesting to note that those were monkey brains, which are closer to human than any other brains on the table. Are you ready to try another one?”

Not really, but what else can I say? This is what I’m here for, right? I nod and he lifts the lid on another dish.