A Boy and His Corpse (13 page)

Alan

             
I never thought I’d actually miss this
, Alan thought as his father headed into the forest behind Mandolin Arsenal.
He sat in the passenger seat, his father at the wheel with Mort between them. The clock on the dash read 7:15PM. Back when the Chandlers still lived underground, they came up to the surface every weekend. Mr. Rovas said it was so Alan could get exposure to real life outside of what he watched on TV, which was mostly just wrestling and cartoons. Alan glanced over his shoulder and out the back window. His mom’s car followed close behind. She turned off her headlights and the outline of her car faded into darkness.

              When he was younger, the drive into the woods surrounding the Arsenal had really spooked him. Whenever they left the main road and headed into the trees, Alan would close his eyes, only opening them again when the car stopped moving. He fully expected his old fears to return, but after seeing a man get his heart ripped out (and actually being the force behind it), the dirt road that led to woods no longer held the same fearful hold over him. All the same, Mort wrapped his arm about him. It was comforting.

              The truck rocked back and forth on the uneven ground, but it stopped after only a few minutes. His father hopped out.

“Do you want to wait here?” he asked. His breath was visible in the January air.

              “No,” Alan said, and Mort followed him out the passenger side door.

              His mother parked close behind. James was the first one out and he slammed the door.

Herbert whisper-talked: “We’re only a half mile away from the base, dummy. What are you trying to do? Get us caught?”

              James didn’t lower his volume. “He should be here by now. Where the hell is he?”

              Just then, as if responding to his question, a set of car headlights blinked on and off from the other side of the dirt road. The faint shape of a late-model sedan inched toward them. The dark shadow rocked back and forth as it moved over the bumpy road and the engine purred like a cat. When it finally stopped, Mr. Rovas stepped out and closed his door gently. Herbert lit his hand and turned the pitch black area before them a soft green.

              “I’ve been waiting out here for over 40 minutes,” Mr. Rovas whispered. “What took you so long?”

             
Disposing bodies takes awhile
, Alan thought,
especially with magic, apparently.

              The smell of Agents Covington and Heinzelman in his father’s silent fire was clean like Irish Spring Soap, but it took a while for their entire bodies to evaporate. The other two agents turned their heads as their comrades burned in the basement, but it really wasn’t all that horrific. The magic didn’t spread and engulf them like regular, unpredictable fire. Instead, it stayed contained around their bodies and melted them in stages. All in all, it took about a half an hour to dispose of both of them.

              “Well, we’re here now,” Herbert said to Mr. Rovas. “Let’s go down.”

Herbert knelt by a small rock that jutted out the ground like a right triangle. He flicked it seven times with his middle finger, paused, and then flicked it five more times.

              Herbert crawled back and the ground slid open, revealing a long, rectangle of dull, white light. Stairs led below ground, and Herbert went down first, followed by James.

Alan sent Mort ahead of him. Before he descended all the stairs, he looked up at his mother.

“Aren’t you coming down?” he asked.

              “In a second,” she said with her arms akimbo. “I’m just making sure Mr. Rovas doesn’t pull any funny business.”

              Alan rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said. Like Mr. Rovas could actually do anything to them.

              Once he reached the bottom, his mom and Mr. Rovas followed. They walked down a long corridor to a door with a glass panel beside it. Herbert put his hand to the panel. A bright white light steam scanned his palm. The door slid open, and the overpowering scent of lemon cut through the corridor. Alan heard his mom gag.

              “Uch. I didn’t miss that,” she said.

              The opening to the surface at the top of the stairs closed. A loud clank sounded as it locked into place.

             
Herbert stepped through the door and it shut behind him.

              James was next in line and put his hand to the panel. The same light scanned his palm and the door opened. Before he stepped through the doorway he glanced back over his shoulder and half-smiled at Alan.

              Alan watched his former friend until the door shut behind him, then shook his head. Was James ever really his friend, or had he just been using him the whole time? He didn’t want to know.

              Alan touched the scanner next. It was cool under his fingers. He watched the sensor as it trailed up and down his palm. He and Mort stepped through. Within a few minutes his mother and Mr. Rovas were inside with the rest of them.

              The tables were the first thing Alan saw. He loathed the bad memories they brought back. His mother squeezed her nose.

              “Oh, God, it’s even worse than I remember,” she said.

              There were five visible corpses on the tables, and all of them had their brains exposed.

              Alan looked from the corpses to Mr. Rovas.

              “Okay, so how do you want me to do this?” He asked. “Do you want me to lift two at a time? Which ones?”

              Mr. Rovas smiled and walked toward Alan, who backed up. There was something off about Mr. Rovas. He seemed…hot.

              “Hey! What’s going on?”Alan asked.

              “Mr. Rovas,” his father said.

His mother ran in front of Mr. Rovas, but in one sudden motion, his hand flew out. A loud slap echoed in the open space as he backhanded her.

She spun to the floor.

              “What the hell!” Herbert shouted, running to the rescue, but Mr. Rovas was too fast. He lunged in and grabbed Alan by the shoulders. His mouth shot open, and a fine red mist sprayed out from between his lips into Alan’s face.

Alan screamed. He felt the mist rush into his mouth, causing him to heave and cough spasmodically. The moment he closed his mouth, an electrical current surged from his head to his toes, and then back to his head again. His limbs stiffened and his brain froze, and the last thing he saw was Mr. Rovas’ collapsing. Smoke wafted out of the man’s clothes as he fell sideways. Alan heard a slow scream in the distance. Everything felt like it moved a tenth of its speed.

Alan blinked three times, and on the third blink, his eyes stayed open. When he tried to move his arms, they wouldn’t budge. Alan understood the sick new truth of the matter.

His body had been invaded. He was now a prisoner inside his own skin.

Lorraine

              Lorraine rubbed her jaw and watched from the hard cement floor as Herbert leapt over Mr. Rovas’ body to get to their son, but Alan shot a green blast at him. Herbert blocked it and slid back, but almost tripped over Mr. Rovas downed body.

              “I can’t believe that actually worked,” Alan said, holding out his arms and looking at them as if he were trying on new clothes.

Lorraine searched her son’s face but saw no trace of her sweet, awkward boy. She screamed.

              “Shut up,” her Alan said. He waved a circle over his mouth with his finger, and then pointed at her. Lorraine’s face began to burn. She opened her mouth to scream but the skin of her lips knitted together. She clawed at her mouth, but touching her own skin made her cry in pain. The sharpest of the pain lasted only a few seconds, but when it finally dissipated, a smooth layer of unbroken skin covered the lower half of her face.

              “Mmmmmm MMmmm Mmmmmnnn,” she said, tearing at her cheeks.

              Herbert rushed to her aid, but just as quickly, Alan stuck out his hand and Herbert’s arms and legs clamped together as if he was wrapped up in invisible rope. Alan raised his hand and Herbert levitated until he was about a foot off the ground.

              “Now now, don’t try anything stupid,” Alan said. “I don’t want to have to kill you if I don’t have to. I may still need you.”

              “Whatever you are, get out of my son!” Herbert spat.

              “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. It all depends on your cooperation. We have a lot to get done,” Alan said. Lorraine’s stomach lurched in her throat. What did Mr. Rovas do to her son?

              James darted across the room and dove under one of the steel tables.

              Alan smiled. “There’s no need to be worried, James,” Alan said, spreading out his arms. The tables parted like the Red Sea, leaving James exposed. “I’m not going to hurt you. In fact, I have a proposition for you.”

              “Who…who are you?” James asked.

              In that instant, Lorraine knew the truth. She covered her ears in hopes that failing to hear it would mean it wasn’t true. Her ex-husband had always been elliptic about where he obtained his powers.

              “
I’m just different,”
he used to say.
“I was born like this.
”

              But it never jived with her, and if she had known when they had first started dating that he could necromance, she never would have gotten involved with him in the first place. She squeezed her eyes shut as if that would help block out the sound, but she still heard the shell of her son say, “James, it’s me, Alan.”

              “Don’t listen to him, James! That’s not him!” Herbert said, and Lorraine wanted to smack him clear across the face. Of course it wasn’t their son. This…thing was practically strutting. But Herbert didn’t have to say it wasn’t him. He didn’t have to make the thing inside their son angry.

              “Mmmmm, MMMmmn mmnnnn,” she said to him with wide, frantic eyes.

              “Listen to your wife, Herbert,” Alan said, and Lorraine’s heart froze. “You might just learn something for once.”

             
Your wife?

              Alan turned back to James. “Okay, so this is how it’s going to work. We’re going to go overseas and kill Armand Raad.”

              “What?” Herbert asked.

              “But…how?” James asked, trying to back up even further, but wound up backing up into another table.

              “How what?” Alan asked. “How are we going to get to Armand Raad?”

              James remained quiet.

              “There’s actually a plane hidden down here,” Alan said. “I saw it in Mr. Rovas head.”

              Lorraine saw both James and Herbert stare at her son with trepidation.

“Who in the hell are you,” James asked, shaking his head. “You are
not
Alan.”

Alan threw his head back and laughed.

Lorraine shivered as goosebumps rose on her breasts and arms at the sound of the sharp, punctuated barks of laughter that come from her son’s mouth. The awful sound faded and she watched him as he wiped the tears from his eyes with his wrist.

              “Oh,” he said, sniffing, “You should see your faces. They’re all like—” and he imitated their slack jaws before laughing some more. “Well, Herbert” and he turned to face the magician, “It looks like we meet again then, huh?”

              “No,” he said. For the first time since they met, Lorraine heard the sound of fear in Herbert’s voice

              “Oh, come on, Herbert. You really shouldn’t be so surprised. I know you felt my presence as of late. I mean, there’s only one me, right?”

              Lorraine covered her ears again and hummed to herself. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t be. She wouldn’t allow it.

              “Why are you back?” Herbert asked and his face tightened. “And why are you inside my son?”

              “Long story short, I need him, just like I once needed you.”

             
That bastard.
“Mmmmm Mmmnnnn Mnnnnn!” Lorraine said, pulling her hands off her ears.

              “What she said,” the imposter said, chuckling.

              “What’s going on?” James asked. “Who is this, Herbert?”

              “I’ll be with you in a minute,” he said to James before turning to Herbert. “The fact of the matter is, I have your son and I’m going to use him.”

              “But why him? Why not go inside me?”

The imposter swiped the air. Your body is too weak now, so I’ve taken your son hostage,” he smiled. “It’s nothing personal.”

              Lorraine wanted to thrash her husband. She didn’t need the imposter to name himself. She already knew who he was. Hot tears clung to her eyes.

              “As for you, James, I have a test,” the devil said. He raised a finger and all five corpses on the tables got up simultaneously. “Let’s see just how good you really are. It seems Alan has a lot of respect for your abilities.”

              James put one leg behind the other and both fists up in a martial arts stance. The corpses came at him two at a time, but James took them out as if they were nothing. He uppercut one, slid to the right, swept the legs of another, and got up to close line two more. He roundhouse kicked the last one without even breaking a sweat.

              “Interesting,” the imposter said, crossing his arms. “You passed with flying colors.”

              James stood erect, kicked one heel to the other, and put his hands behind his back like a soldier. He looked comfortable now and at peace. His broad chest lightly rose and fell.

              “Tell me about yourself, James,” the devil said. “I only really know you from the thoughts in Alan’s head.”

              “I was five when my father gave my life to the military,” James said. “I don’t remember much of the proceedings since I was so young. I only remember this underground facility, which I’ve lived in practically my entire life until two years ago, when I went to the surface along with the Chandlers. I was given a fake history.”

“But your dad’s a real cop.” Herbert said. “I looked it up.”

James turned to him.

“That man you met
was
a cop, but he was only acting as my father to go along with the narrative Mr. Rovas set up. His thinking was that Alan would think I was just some normal teen when he met me, which he did. And so did you.”