Skeleton Crew (2 page)

I stayed like that, frozen in place and screaming at the top of my lungs, until Tony's teeth clamped down on my ear. In a zombie movie, flesh would have torn and blood would have sprayed, but fortunately, Tony's teeth weren't exactly designed for chewing ears. Blunt teeth or not, I can say one thing about having someone bite into your ear, and I think
Evander Holyfield would back me up on this: it hurts like a motherfucker.

It hurt enough that it probably saved my life, or at least my profile. When I felt Tony's teeth sink into my flesh, my scream turned into an outraged roar and I twisted, swinging an elbow into his face. I heard a sickening, crunchy, squelching sound as it slammed into his nose, and he staggered back from the blow. I turned to face him and put one hand to my ear. I looked at the hand and there was blood on my fingers. I looked up at Tony, who was staggering toward me again, his arms outstretched and his hands grasping like claws.

“You dirty, dead motherfucker,” I said. “You bit my fucking ear.” Tony made a terrible moaning, mewling sound. His lips curled away from his teeth, like that hideous thing chimpanzees do, and he kept coming.

“Vi Victa Vis,” I said, and my force spell hit Tony in the chest like a wrecking ball taking a shot at a condemned building. His body hurtled through the air away from me and slammed into the side of a family mausoleum, the marble cratering from the impact.

“Terrence,” I called over my shoulder, “your fucking nephew wants to eat me.” I heard sounds of a struggle from the grave behind me and I remembered Terrence was having his own issues.

“Smoke him,” he grunted. “He's family, but that shit only goes so far.”

“A great flame follows a little spark,” I said. A ball of fusion fire appeared in my hand. I flicked my arm and threw it at Tony, and it streaked toward him like a meteor burning through the atmosphere. The fireball exploded when it struck the zombie. I had to shield my eyes from the blast, and the shockwave lifted my hair from my shoulders. When
I looked again all that was left of Tony was a blast shadow on the mausoleum wall.

I turned and looked back toward the other grave just as Terrence leaped back. He flowed a rhyme from a gangster rap and liquid fire poured into the grave. Keshawn screamed as he burned, but the screaming stopped long before the fire did. I walked back to Terrence and stood beside him, and we watched the flames dancing in the grave.

“That was fucked up,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“It must have been Mobley. He must have put a spell on 'em, done a ritual or something.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But what if it wasn't Mobley?”

Terrence looked over at me. “What you mean, Domino?”

“I mean, what if your nephews aren't the only ones?” I looked around the cemetery, and shivered. “What if they're just the first?”

That night, I sat on my bed with my laptop in front of me and searched for Tony and Keshawn on FriendTrace.com. I typed their names in the search box and poured juice into the spell I use to contact the dead.

I got a white screen with the words
No Results Found
on it. I couldn't force Terrence's nephews to take my call, but that's not what my spell was telling me. It was telling me Tony and Keshawn weren't in the Beyond. Since they were dead—again—there was really only one other place they could be.

I shut down the laptop, threw on some clothes and went out to the living room. Honey, my piskie roommate, was on the coffee table with four of her sisters. They were playing Chinese checkers, but the game seemed more about pelting each other with marbles than the strategies I'd learned as a child. There was a fair amount of violence in it, since the marbles were almost as large to the piskies as a bowling ball would have been to me.

“Hi, Domino! Wanna play?”

“I need to cross over for a bit. Hold down the fort while I'm gone.”

“I can come with you.”

“Play your game. I should be in and out.” I sank onto the couch, spun my spirit-walking spell and crossed over to the Between. I grabbed the Colt Peacemaker from the closet and belted the rig around my waist. The weapon had belonged to Wyatt Earp and they called it the Dead Man's Gun in these parts. They also said it was cursed, but it was still a comfort in a place where I couldn't use sorcery.

I left my condo and strolled down the blue-lit nighttime street outside my building. I entered the pale mist that shrouded the streets of the shadow city, and the world seemed to spin around me like a vinyl record on a turntable. When I stepped out of the fog, I was standing at the gates of the cemetery.

This was my first time visiting a cemetery in the Between. I'd expected it to be a happening place, the ghostly equivalent of a busy hotel. Instead, it was deserted, quiet and still. In the real world, it had been designed from the sod up to ooze peacefulness and serenity. It was pleasant enough you could almost forget it had corpses buried in it.

In the Between, that calm and soothing ambiance was replaced by something else entirely. Not danger, exactly—I didn't feel threatened by it. The vibe I got from the place was more like loneliness, regret. The cemetery was the last station at the end of the line. “Everyone gets off here,” it seemed to whisper. “There's no place else to go.”

I went in through the gates and walked down the winding road toward the graves. The ambient blue light of the Between at night was dimmer here. There were no leaves on the trees that flanked the road, and they cast no shadows.

Tony's grave was still open, a stark, black shape like a doorway in the ground. I walked to the edge and knelt beside it. “Tony?” I whispered. No response. I tightened my
jaw, lay down on my stomach and reached into the grave. It was empty—even the coffin was missing. I hastily stood up and brushed the grave dirt from my clothes. I looked around, and seeing nothing, I walked over to the mausoleum where I'd torched Tony with the fireball spell.

The blast shadow was still there. As I approached, it rippled and flowed away from the wall, and then floated toward me. I jumped back and drew Ned, pointing the pistol more or less at the center of the shifting shadow.

The apparition raised its hands. “Yo, Domino, it's me, Antoine.”

“What the fuck, Tony, you scared the shit out of me.”

The uppermost part of the shadow—presumably Tony's head—swirled around, like he was checking himself out. “Yeah, kinda creepy. Sorry 'bout that. You nuked me, guess this is the best I can do.”

“You tried to eat me, Tony.”

“Yeah, I got to apologize for that. Your ear okay?”

I nodded. Honey had dusted up a nice healing glam our for me and my ear was good as new. I'd have to get it pierced again, though. “So what was up with that? Why'd you bite me?”

“I don't know what got into me, Domino. I just needed it, you know? It's like when you're real thirsty and you see some water and you just got to have it.”

“Like an instinct.”

“Yeah, that's what I'm saying. I didn't decide to eat you, my body just needed it. I guess it's a zombie thing, like in the movies.”

“That fucking bite better not turn me into a zombie, Tony, or I'll come back and kill you again. I'll come in with a plan and take my fucking time about it.”

“I don't think it works that way, Domino. I didn't get bit by a zombie and I still turned into one.”

“So what now, you're a ghost?”

“Yeah, I guess, but I'm stuck here.” Tony floated toward me again and then stopped abruptly. “See? This is as far as I can go from where you lit me up. It's like I'm chained to the fucking muslim.”

“Mausoleum.”

“What?”

“It's a mausoleum, not a Muslim. So you're trapped in the place where your body was destroyed.”

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Keshawn still over there, too. We was talking earlier, before you showed up. He can't leave his hole.”

I had a spell that bound ghosts and I thought I might be able to reverse it to free Tony. I even had a spell that could banish a ghost to the Beyond. Problem was, I couldn't cast either spell in this place. I could try to summon Tony into the mortal world but the odds didn't seem good with him tied down in the Between. “Have you tried to manifest in the physical world, Tony? If you can, I might be able to cut you loose.”

“Nah, Domino, I can't go nowhere. Like I said, I'm stuck.”

“I could shoot you. If I destroy your ghost form or what ever, maybe it would set you free.”

Tony didn't say anything for a few moments and I got the feeling he was looking at Ned. “Maybe we could try something else.”

“I can't really think of anything else, Tony.”

“I can wait. Maybe something will come to you.”

I nodded and was about to respond when a writhing mass of fleshy tentacles flashed down from above and coiled
around the shadow. Tony screamed as the tentacles lifted him into the air. I looked up.

A severed head hovered in the air about ten feet above us. It looked male and mostly human, though the skin was a mottled gray and the features were twisted hideously. Long, black hair hung in greasy strands from the head, and the thin, glistening lips were drawn back to reveal a mouthful of pointed teeth. I realized the “tentacles” were actually flayed strands of muscle and tendon, impossibly long, extending from the severed neck. The tentacles were lifting Tony toward the toothy maw, and drool spattered down on the helpless shade.

All of this was enough to bump zombies down to Number Two on the list of things I just can't tolerate. I brought Ned up and aimed, but just before I squeezed the trigger I saw the thing's yellowed, bloodshot eyes snap to me. I fired, but the severed head dived with dizzying speed and the shot missed. Tony fell to the ground again and the tentacles released him. The creature turned its attention to me.

It zigged and zagged in the air as I tried to draw a bead with Ned. I fired and missed again, and then one of the tentacles flashed out and wrapped around my arm, immobilizing it. I struggled against it, but the tentacle was like a meaty vise and I couldn't bring Ned up to take another shot. More tentacles shot out and wrapped around my legs and my waist, and the creature laughed. It sounded wet and diseased. Blood and saliva sprayed from the thing's mouth and neck.

I reached for the fairy magic inside me, but I suddenly didn't have the strength. I could feel my magic being drawn from me, into those tentacles, and they throbbed like bulging veins as my juice pumped into them.

The creature extended yet another tentacle, slowly this time, and it coiled around my throat, almost gently, like a lover's caress. Tony finally picked himself up and flew at the monster, but its head snapped around, its mouth opened and Tony was swallowed up like smoke being sucked into an air cleaner. The creature made a vile gulping sound and licked its lips. Then it turned back to me. It drew close and its jaws stretched wide. Its hot breath smelled like rotten meat.

An arrow burst from the thing's throat, just above its Adam's apple, and blood and pus spattered my face. It was in my eyes and my mouth, and somewhere deep inside I started screaming.

I reached out with my free hand and grabbed a tentacle, pulling the creature to me. I took hold of the arrow and twisted it, grinding it against the raw edges of the angry wound, and then I head-butted the thing in the face. The creature shrieked and recoiled from me, and the tentacles withdrew.

“Big mistake, motherfucker.” I brought Ned up and fanned the hammer with my left hand. The monster jerked around in the air like a kite in a gale, but it couldn't dodge all the ethereal lead the weapon threw its way. One shot pierced the wrinkled gray skin of its cheek and the other took it just above the eye. Black blood trickled down its face and sprayed from the exit wound in the back of its skull.

I heard a sharp snap and another arrow slammed into the side of the creature's head. The arrow penetrated the monster's temple and burst out the other side. It looked just like the arrow-through-the-head party gag, and I couldn't hold back the giggle that bubbled up from the part of me that had gone a little mad.

The creature remained in the air for a few moments, bobbing like a cork in a pool. Then its eyes rolled up in its head
and it collapsed in a twitching mass of tentacles. I stepped up to it, stuck the Peacemaker's barrel in its ear and pulled the trigger a couple times. Maybe more than a couple.

I felt a hand on my wrist, pressing firmly but gently. “That's enough, miss. It's over.”

I looked up and saw a ghost. He was wearing a long leather coat and a wide-brimmed hat. Brown hair shot with gray spilled down from the hat to his collar. He looked to be in his fifties, and his face had a seamed and weathered appearance that suited him. He was holding an antique wooden crossbow in one hand and a large leather pack was slung over his shoulder. I nodded and reluctantly holstered Ned.

“That was a disembodied head that eats ghosts,” I said.

“The Karen tribesmen of Burma call it the kephn.”

“Around here we call it Pac-Man.”

The ghost shrugged and extended his hand. “I'm Abe,” he said. “Abe Warren.”

I shook his hand. “Thanks for your help, Abe. I'm Domino.”

Abe nodded and then squinted at me. “You're alive.”

“Yeah, barely. Like I said, thanks.”

“What I meant was, you're not dead. You're not a spirit.”

“Right on.”

“So you're a witch.”

“I prefer sorcerer. Or sorceress, if you have to be gender-specific about it.”

“A witch spirit-walking in a boneyard at night…I probably don't want to know what you're doing here.”

Abe didn't seem too fond of witches but at least he was polite about it. “Well, why are you here?”

“I'm a ghost-hunter.”

“You're a ghost yourself, Abe.”

“Well, yes, I was a ghost-hunter in life. I never saw the
point in changing vocations just because I died. Matter of fact, it's a lot easier to find the bastards this way.”

“What do you have against ghosts?”

“Oh, nothing against most of them, just the troublesome ones. The haunts, revenants and vengeful spirits—those are my prey.”

“Well, I don't think there's any ghosts like that here. Tony got eaten and Keshawn can't leave his grave.”

“I'm glad to hear it. I'm on patrol, you see. It's my job to make sure there aren't any malevolent entities on the prowl.” He drew a gold watch from his vest pocket and snapped it open. “Since there aren't, I should be on my way.”

“Yeah, just the head. Thanks again for that.”

“My pleasure. Well, there's plenty more graveyards to visit before the dawn.” He smiled and tugged on the brim of his hat. “Good evening, miss.”

He turned away and I watched as he walked across the cemetery toward the edge of the mist.

“Say, Abe,” I called. He stopped and turned back to me.

“Yes, Miss Domino?”

“You got any idea why Tony and Keshawn were trapped here? It's like their ghosts were chained to the place where their bodies were destroyed.”

Abe looked down at his feet and rubbed his chin. He looked back up at me and shook his head. “No, I'm afraid I don't know anything about that,” he said. “But I reckon a powerful witch such as yourself will get to the bottom of it.” Then he turned and disappeared into the fog.

I didn't want to chase him into the mist but I thought about going after him. Not because I needed the company, but because I was pretty sure the son of a bitch was lying.

 

“Why didn't you tell me the Koreans were making noise about Terrence's outfit?”

I was meeting with Adan in the second-floor office of his father's strip club, the Men's Room. It was early afternoon and there was a light lunchtime crowd in the club below. The girls danced onstage and gossiped in back of it. The men paid their money and pretended they weren't lonely for a while.

“It's a political matter, not directly related to the war effort. I figured you had more important things to worry about, and besides, Dad left this kind of thing to me. Anyway, I'm telling you now.”

“Terrence is our ally, Adan. Supporting our alliances is critical to the war effort, and you damn well know it.”

Adan's voice softened. “I'm not trying to undercut your authority, Domino. Really, I'm not. I just think you're being soft on Cole because you feel like you owe him something.”

“Yeah, he saved my life.”

“And we're all grateful for that. I'm grateful.” Adan smiled and looked at me with his dark, soulful eyes. I'd gotten lost in those eyes once before. I didn't plan on doing it again.