My Friends Are Dead People (11 page)

Kala slowly lifted himself up. He was
shorter and younger than Dorian, and had short orange hair; he was
wearing a sparkling gray robe and black boots. Katie and I lowered
our heads the second Kala raised his.

“
Jesse and Katie, this is
Kala,” said Jacoby. “He’s not like Dorian. Kala, you don’t need to
hold me.” Kala let go. “What are the tortics doing
here?”

“
O-one’s here to compete.
And I . . .”

“
You signed the
contract?”

Kala nodded.

“
Why?” said Jacoby,
letting Kala hold his hand this time.

“
I didn’t know they would
want to play in the games–” Kala noticed something. “–Dorian! You
got new boots! Where did you get those?”

Dorian kept quiet.

“
Are you absolutely sure
one of them signed?” continued Jacoby.

Kala nodded. “I don’t want to play. It won’t
play fair. Dorian, you can play for me. You can grow hair like
mine. They won’t know the difference.”

“
Kala, you know they won’t
allow it,” said Jacoby.

“
But it’s okay to allow a
. . .” Kala whispered the name, “
tortic
?” He raised his voice again.
“They can’t! An infant could kill me! I’m going to die. Oh, why did
I take his place? He could’ve just continued to play
injured.”

“
They’re not allowed to
kill in the games, Kala,” reminded Jacoby.

“
But it’s their first
game. What if they don’t know the rules?”

“
I’m sure they
do.”

Dorian moved up to Jacoby and stared into
his eyes. Everyone but Jacoby dropped their heads, even Kala.

“
Jack's coming to the
festival,” he whispered. “That's why they are here.”

They were speaking too
quietly for me to make out the rest of the conversation. I did,
however, catch one other muffled bit. "
They are planning to kill Kala
,”
breathed out Dorian in an anxious whisper.

“
The tortics,” Jacoby said
strongly, “could’ve decided to give the games a try. They know it
would be very foolish to kill at a festival. We don’t know if they
killed Dili.”

“
They're going to kill
us?” yelped Kala.

“
Kala, listen. Tortics are
not going to kill you. Nor is Jack. They have no reason
to.”

“
They do!”

“
Then what is
it?”

“
Tortics? They . .
.”

“
They have no agenda here,
Kala.”

“
Then Jack–”

“
Kala, I don’t want to
hear anymore of this. He knows better than to venture onto the
festival grounds.”

“
He doesn’t like how we
look!” blurted Kala.

“
Kala, that’s
enough.”

“
There are only three of
us left! We are being wiped out!” Kala thought for a second. “Maybe
it’s the de-moan demons or . . .” he whispered,
“
the woman
from
Brazil
. We’re goners no matter what! And
if
it’s
here . .
.”

“
If he were, the tortics
would know, Kala.”

“
How would they
know?”

“
You know they have a keen
sense of smell. They could smell Jack’s stench from miles away.
Jack is not here.”

“
Maybe the tortics did
come for the games,” said Dorian, walking away from the
window.

“
What did they look like?”
I asked Katie as they continued to talk.

“
Like huge elves with huge
ears, and as tall as the ceiling.”

Kala was crouched in the corner, shaking his
head. “They’re eight feet tall,” he muttered.

“
Kala, get up,” prompted
Jacoby.

Kala stood up. “What are we going to do
now?”

“
We are going to the
festival.”

“
But . . . that’s where
they’re headed.”

“
Yes.”

Two heavy knocks shook the front door,
shattering the ice. Someone was trying to break in.

CHAPTER NINE

The HEE-HAWING
DONKEY

Without waiting for an answer – not like
anyone was going to answer anyway – the door flew open. A huge dark
gargoyle ducked his head under the doorway and looked inside,
spotting us right away. He was a beast, with twelve-inch claws,
monstrous muscles and giant black wings. His skin was ashy and
covered with rocky scales. He turned sideways and shuffled
awkwardly through the tight entryway, cluttered with flying
costumes.

“
I am here for Kala,” the
gargoyle growled in monotone, dipping his head under a pirate
costume.

“
No!” whined Kala, trying
to hide himself inside a cauldron. “Hess, you can never take me!
Dorian, protect me from this piece of coal.”

“
It’s going to be fine,”
said Jacoby. “We’ll be there to support you.”

“
Yeah,” said
Katie.

“
Yeah! You will kill it
dead!” I blurted enthusiastically. That was a stupid thing to
say.

Kala let out a squeal and pushed himself
deeper into the cauldron.

“
Kala, you will not cause
me to be late to my photo shoot,” snarled Hess.

“
You can’t take me,”
repeated Kala.

Hess half-flexed his wings, and Kala came
out of the cauldron.

“
What if something happens
to me?” Kala asked Hess as he followed him through the front
entrance.

“
I’m sure Jacoby has told
you: the festivals are the safest place to be.”

Everyone watched as Hess reached for a hot
red doorknob that Kala had just conjured, but stopped himself just
in time.

“
Stop this werewolf’s
tantrum!” he hissed irately. “You are a grown sixty day old
menala!”

His large claws confidently crushed the
smoking knob and pushed the door open. Kala gave in to his fate and
shambled after Hess.

“
Looks good, Lin,” said
Jacoby, glancing over my corpse makeup.

“
Thanks,” replied Lin, who
had lost the mohawk and was wearing his striped overalls
again.

“
I think I’ll dress up
next–”

“
Really? And you’ll let me
dress you?”

“
Of course.”

Lin headed toward the back of the store
while he talked to himself. “This is going to be so great. Tomorrow
is going to be the best day ever. . . . Jacoby, I’ll meet you
there!”

“
Is Lin okay?” I asked
Jacoby.

“
He is his normal self,
yes. A melflin is prone to frequent personality changes. You’ll
understand it better as you get to know him.”

“
Are we going to the
festival now?”

“
In a few minutes. I need
to speak to Soundrec first.”

I peeked at Katie’s watch while we walked
out the back door.

6:39 PM

There was just over five hours left before
Oz’s routine bedroom check. I didn’t want to make her angry
anymore. I couldn’t wait to tell her I had found her jacket. She’s
going to be so happy. . . .

By the time I stopped daydreaming, Jacoby
and Dorian were already far ahead of us, making their way around a
dark lake, with a thin layer of fog rolling over it. A few ducks
bobbed their heads in the water and washed their broad bills.
Without warning, a claw shot up and pulled the birds under, leaving
but a ripple in its wake.

Exhausted, Katie and I settled comfortably
under a small tree as Jacoby and Dorian stepped out onto a grassy
ridge overlooking the lake.

“
He’ll be here soon, you
two,” Jacoby informed us, listening to the distant sound of
flapping wings. Soon after, Soundrec emerged out of the fog and
landed next to Jacoby.

“
Jacoby, Dorian,” he
greeted and then nodded at Katie and me. “What’s the death
count?”

“
Above average,” said
Jacoby quickly, looking preoccupied with something else. “What do
we know about the murdered girl?”

“
She has the mark of a
Dark Death. But it couldn’t be Jack. There were at least two
hundred halloweens within a mile of her when the murder took place.
You know Jack wouldn’t venture out into a crowd.”

“
Do you know anything
else?”

“
A tortic was spotted
there a few days before.”

Soundrec gazed across the still waters as
his arachnid companion poked its beady eyes out of his branch arm.
“There’s one more interesting bit: the child was the granddaughter
of the eighth Dark Death,” said Soundrec. “Let us hope it’s not
Jack.”

“
Why don’t we want it to
be Jack?” I asked, coming up from behind.

“
Because nothing can be
done if it is.”

The lake became silent. A frightening deep
growl was moving through the fog. Everyone stared anxiously at the
lake. But the growl soon ceased, and a family of ducks waddled back
into the water.

“
It’s funny what legends
can have on an entire race,” commented Jacoby. “Alright, that’ll be
it, Soundrec. Give my hateful regards to your friends.”

“
I will,” grinned
Soundrec. “Going to the festival? It’s been a while for you
both.”

“
Yes.”

“
Thanks for helping us,”
put in Katie.

“
It’s my pleasure. There
was a premonition by a stranger an hour before the event. . . . I
saw how you defended Jesse. You’re a brave girl.”

I lowered my head, ashamed of myself.

“
Soundrec?” said Jacoby.
“Keep a close eye on the games. One of the tortics
entered.”

“
They’re letting one
play?” asked Soundrec, genuinely startled. He pondered it for just
a moment and then placed a friendly hand on Dorian’s shoulders.
“There’s a position opening up tomorrow – next Halloween. Everyone
has decided to let you in. This can help you prove to halloweens
you’re not dangerous.”

“
Thanks, Soundrec,” Dorian
said politely, “but I like what I do.”

“
Yes, digging graves. The
legendary gravediggers from somewhere in the south.”

Soundrec’s wings flung open to span the
length of a school bus, and in just a few mighty strokes he was
high up in the sky. He turned to me. “That’s a much better costume,
my friend! Don’t hesitate to scream for help.”

“
What is that spider that
lives in your arm?” I shouted back.

“
A parasite . . . and a
good friend.”

Soundrec gave Katie a quick nod, and
vanished into the fog. As we headed back to the city we saw Lin
dragging his feet out of a lantern-lit alley.

“
I’m going to die–” he
sniveled.

“
You’re not going to die,”
said Jacoby calmly.

“
I need to go see my mom.
Do you think heaven will accept someone like me?”

Jacoby placed his hand on Lin’s head and
quickly recited something under his breath.

“
Hey, I thought we were
going to the festival?!” reeled Lin, regaining his glee. “Let’s go
before we miss everything! Who cares about death!”

“
We’re heading over there
right now,” said Jacoby.

“
Oh, boy, shrubby head,
this is going to be fun! You should come, Dorian! It will be great!
This is the best Halloween day ever!”

“
I am coming along,” said
Dorian.

Lin spun around, almost looking up at
Dorian’s eyes. “Really, really, really?”

“
Yes.”

“
Your first festival! You
won’t be disappointed! What are we waiting for? Let’s go! Let’s
move our feet!”

“
Lin, stop yelling,” said
Jacoby. “We are walking, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Lin looked down at his own feet to see them
moving, then at ours. “Oh. Sometimes I just can’t tell.”

The alley was crawling with tiny samhains
that looked like hairless werewolves. Lin said they were called
spectacalons. They didn’t do much – just squeaked and fired
minuscule light beams at us – as Lin kept accidentally trampling on
their teeny homes. We walked onto a wider street. A few young
witches on their brooms flew by, heading toward a pitch-black
alley.

“
Where did you get the
tickets?” said the taller witch.

“
I stole them from Murlie.
Come on, we’re going to miss it. A tortic has signed the
Beneficiary.”

“
Do we need tickets?” I
asked.

“
Don’t worry about that,”
said Jacoby.

“
Same as last year?” said
Lin excitedly.

Jacoby nodded.

“
We always get in for
free,” Lin told me.

“
How?” asked Katie
distractedly, eyeing a check-in counter at the entrance to the dark
alley. Sitting on top were a pair of thin scarecrows, a glowing
pumpkin and a shrilling crow.

“
It’s them, Vince,” said
the scarecrow with no arms. “Sorry, Jacoby, you can’t scare us this
time. Bringing a posse is not going to help you get in. We’ll stay
put like . . . that pebble over there.”

We all turned to see where he was looking
and saw a pebble lying on a bench. Just then, a gust of wind blew
it off.