Badass Zombie Road Trip (38 page)

“Then where is Dale’s soul?” Satan asked.

“You mean we have to actually find it?” Dale asked.

Satan just kept on grinning.

“No!” Jonah shouted.

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“No?” Satan asked.

Jonah balled his fists. “That wasn’t the deal. Our deal was that I bring Dale to the hiding spot in seven days and you’d put his soul back.”

“Clever. Very clever. I was wondering if you would catch on to that.”

“Then pay up.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I brought the corpse here.”

“Yes, but though the flesh is willing, the soul isn’t up to the task.”

Jonah’s stomach fell to his balls, which in turn drew up against his groin. “What?”

“It’s not here, boy.”

“It has to be here.”

“Why?”

“Because you said it was here!”

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Satan maintained a blank look of total innocence. “No, I didn’t.”

“But …” Jonah fumbled with the postcard again, shoving it into Satan’s hands.

“Then why did you send me this?”

Satan looked at the postcard with interest, then smiled wider. “Oh, yes. I remember now. That was awful nice of me. Wasn’t it?”

“It wasn’t a message?” Candy asked.

“Of course there’s a message. See.” Satan turned the card out to face them. “Wish you were here. Isn’t that pleasant?”

Jonah furrowed his brow, unsure what all of this meant. “But you said … I thought …”
 

“You thought wrong, son.” Satan clapped his hands together, and the postcard went up in a puff of smoke. “Now think again. Who told you Dale’s soul would be here?”

Jonah rubbed his temples, ignoring his throbbing knee and wracking his brain for answers that weren’t there. Finally, an idea came to him. “Dale’s dad.”

“And you believed him?”

“You’re the one who said to ask him. You said he would know.”

“And he does. He just didn’t tell you.”

“No …” Jonah whispered as he came to the only conclusion that made sense. Dale’s dad lied to them. He lied and set them on the wrong trail. But why?

“Jonah,” Dale asked. “What does this mean?”

“It means we’re fucked,” Jonah said. He limped to the rock that looked least uncomfortable and sat.

“Fucked? But we got here in time.”

“We lost. Your soul isn’t here. You had to go piss off Daddy, and he lied to get back at you, and now we’re fucked.”

The zombie squared his shoulders and stood over Jonah, seething down at him with supreme anger. “For the last time, I told you I didn’t sell my own soul. You little shit!”

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“Not this again,” Jonah groaned. “Not now.”

“What’s he talking about?” Candy asked.

Jonah rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. “He seems to think he didn’t sell his soul to the Devil.”

“He’s right, you know,” Lucifer said. “He didn’t sell his soul to me.”

This came as a surprise to Jonah, who had spent the better part of five days believing the opposite was true. “Wait, now. If he didn’t sell his soul to you, then who did?”

“I did,” said a familiar voice.

The speaker stood across the cavern, on the far end of the walkway. The weak light barely reached him, but even without any illumination, Jonah would have recognized the familiar figure by his voice alone.

The man was familiar, because he was Dale’s father.

****

Linville Caverns, NC

0 hours: 16 minutes: 16 seconds remaining

Mike Jenkins loomed in the archway that connected one cave to another, staring at his son. His shirt and slacks were crumpled, and his face was haggard, worn, and tired, as if he hadn’t seen proper sleep in days. The man looked almost as exhausted as Jonah felt.

“Right on schedule,” Lucifer whispered. Rubbing his hands together, the Devil added, “Well, now. Looks like the gang’s all here. This should be good.” He nudged Jonah.

Mike smirked at Dale and said, “Hello, son.”

“You!” Dale shouted.

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“My word,” Mike said, wrinkling his nose. “You’ve really let yourself go, haven’t you?”

“No worse than you’re gonna look when I get done with you!” The zombie lurched forward, as best his stiff legs and rotting flesh would allow, in an attempt to attack his old man. But Mike was quicker, rushing across the walkway and up to Candy. She turned to run, but before she could move he snatched her by the roots of her red hair and pulled her to him. With a flick of his wrist he produced an impressively sized switchblade, which he proceeded to press against Candy’s exposed neck.

“Watch it,” Mike warned. “Come any closer and I’ll slit her throat.”

Dale ceased his lurch and growled at his father. “What do you want?”

“The same thing you want. Redemption. Freedom. To finally be able to stop looking over my shoulder after all these years.”

Jonah tried to get to his feet to help Candy, but found himself unable to rise. His knee was beyond hurting, well past painful. It screamed so badly with pain that his very eyeballs throbbed. There he remained, flat on his ass against his boulder, staring helplessly at the proceedings.

“You sold my soul?” Dale asked.

Mike nodded.

“Your own son?” Jonah asked.

“Why else would I father a brat in the first place?” Mike asked.

“How could you?” Dale asked.

With a shrug, Mike said, “I was surprised you didn’t mention it at my home. I thought that’s what you guys were there for. It took a little while for me to realize you must have had your memory wiped. Otherwise, you would never have come to see me in person.”

“Why would you do that to me? I’m your son.”

“Do you know how much power there is in the soul of a firstborn son?”

“Bastard,” Candy hissed.

Mike answered her remark by yanking more tightly on her hair and pressing down on the blade. “You have no idea, little girl. No fucking idea.”

Candy grimaced as a small stream of crimson trickled down her neck.

“So much power. So much potential.” The mad man lowered his nose to her hairline and drew a deep breath. A lascivious leer consumed his face. “I could have been anyone I wanted after that kind of offering. Had anyone I wanted. I could have had everything. I deserved everything. But it all went to waste when Kathy found out.”

“Mom?” Dale asked, his voice dipping into a preteen whimper.

“After she found out, she got in my way.” Mike yanked on Candy’s hair again before he said through gritted teeth, “And no one gets in my way.”

Dale shook his head and stared at his dad, obviously having trouble understanding his father’s words. “Clare said mom hung herself.”

“Oh, she hung herself, all right. At least that’s what the coroner’s report said. And considering I’ve known Bill since we were kids, that was real easy to fix.” Mike chuckled with a sound eerily similar to the Devil’s own laughter. “But it was all for shit in the end. Turns out the soul of a mouthy wife is no substitute for the soul of a mouthy son.”

“Murderer!” Dale screamed.

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The zombie lurched forward again, only to stop at a pain-filled scream from Candy. Mike had whipped the blade across her collarbone, cutting her to the quick and leaving a wide gash. Jonah tried to rise again, but Lucifer took him by the shoulder and held him still.

“Let them have their little father-son moment,” Satan whispered.

“Next time it will be her throat!” Mike yelled as he positioned the blade under Candy’s chin again. “I swear it!”

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“Go ahead, hun,” Candy said. “I’d gladly give my life to see you kick this joker’s ass.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Mike sneered.

“You killed my mom,” Dale said. “You fucker.”

“I hated to lose an asset like that,” Mike said. “She was good for my image. Smart, pretty face, nice body … that is, until you came along. But she didn’t agree with the way I did business, so I had to deal with her. What I didn’t plan on was her cunt of a sister stealing you out from under me during the funeral. After that, I was as good as fucked. And not in the nice way.”

Jonah smirked. Way to go, Clare!

“I’ve waited fifteen years for this moment,” Mike said. “Fifteen extra years to cash in on your damn soul. Fifteen years of trying not to die before you finally found me.”

“Or you would have gone to Hell instead,” Jonah said.

Mike nodded at Jonah. “Someone had to lose a soul, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me.”

And all at once, Jonah understood. This time, he understood everything. Well, almost everything. “The original contract required the soul of a firstborn son, which I’m guessing you are, as well?”

“Yeah. Satan is right; you are clever.”

“I don’t get it,” Dale said.

“He renegotiated the terms of the contract,” Jonah said.

“Being a lawyer does have its privileges,” Mike said.

“Which is why I try not to work with them,” Satan said.

Jonah ignored the comments and continued, explaining as much for his own benefit as for that of the soft-minded zombie. “Your father set a trap for you. The new deal declared that Lucifer couldn’t get his soul until he died naturally or you crossed the California state line, whichever came first. Then all he had to do was stay alive until you came looking for your estranged father. After which your soul would be forfeit, and he would be off the hook.”

Shooting Satan a nasty look, Mike added, “But Clare found out. Someone warned her.”

“So sue me,” Lucifer said. “Oh yeah, you already tried that. Didn’t you?”

“Then you,” Mike said, throwing the word like a poison dart at Jonah. “You come along with your little sob story about your best fucking friend and go and make a new deal with his highness here. When he came and told me what was going on … how the rules had changed because of your little act of martyrdom … I thought I would—well, let’s just say it took a tremendous amount of restraint not to just slip some rat poison into your fucking coffee when you showed up on my doorstep.”

In the midst of this drama, a loud beep sounded. An alarm. From the Devil’s timer.

Jonah pressed the only button on the damned thing and announced, “Five minutes left.”

“You still have time?” Mike asked. “What the fuck, Lucifer? You said they were done hours ago.”

“Last time we talked, they were,” Satan said. “But Team Jonah added a new player and extended their innings.”

Mike curled his hand in Candy’s hair, ever tighter, with a wince and grimace from her. “I see. Well, then. We will just sit here for the next five minutes and wait. Shall we? After all, no one has anywhere to go but down.”

“I won’t let you take my friends,” Dale said.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

Dale turned and dropped on one knee in front of Lucifer, lowering his head in submission. “Just take me. I forfeit. I quit. Whatever. Just call this off.”

Lucifer was impressed. “A soulless man with morals? This is new. Your little pal must have rubbed off on you.”

“You wanted me from the beginning. This is all about me. Just take me and let them go.”

But Jonah wouldn’t hear of it. “No. It’s my fault he came to California. Just take me.”

Satan rolled his eyes. “Oh for shit’s sake. Not this again. Look, son, it wasn’t your fault. Okay?”

“But I drove him there after he asked me—”

“At my recommendation.” For the flash of an instant, Satan was replaced by the full-bodied waitress from the restaurant. The same waitress who convinced Jonah that helping Dale face his demons was a great idea. Then the image shifted back to Lucifer once more. “And I would like to point out that that little bit of manipulation occurred before our verbal contract. So don’t whine about breaking the rules to me, because you’re one to talk.”

Just when Jonah thought he’d figured everything out, it seemed Satan still had a few aces up his devilish sleeves. “I’ll be damned.”

“Soon enough, kid.” Lucifer winked. “Soon enough.”

“I still deserve to go to Hell after I lied to Dale. I’ll forfeit and you can take just me.”

“No,” Dale said. “Take me.”

“Hey!” Mike cried. “No one is going anywhere until that fucking watch counts down to zero!”

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