New Title 4 (19 page)

Lucas brought in about half the zombies to form a loose perimeter around the central pavilion as the final guests were sighted on their way through the park. He needed the space to look secure without spooking any of the guests, and he d long ago decided zombies would be the best for this stage of his plan. Once he had begun researching which items Caleb would probably have, research that consisted mostly of seeking out the most outrageous stories and legends revolving around the clerk, it had been clear that the Flute of All Flesh would be essential to the setup of his plan. He had made the cyborg trio round up most of the zombies earlier in the week, leaving only enough loose that it wouldn t seem suspicious to anyone inclined to ask questions about that sort of thing. He d never played the flute before in his life, but while planning he had learned just enough to play a few key songs. After he d left the OneStop he d gone to the places where he d been keeping all the zombies and got them under his control. Now that it was done he didn t need the flute anymore, and it could wait on the tables right along with all the others.

Unfortunately, the zombie standing right next to him as he watched the guests from the pavilion was proof that he should have practiced more. Phil s undead whore had proved to be a problem so far, so he didn t want the bitch just roaming around with all the other zombies. But he didn t want to kill her just yet either. There was always still the possibility he might need her as leverage. She stood just behind Fluffy as the cyborg guarded the artifacts, occasionally shaking as she tried to do something outside of Lucas s wishes. Lucas didn t like that, but as long as he kept her within sight she shouldn t be a problem.

Lucas stepped out from the pavilion and started walking among all the guests. Some of them had probably guessed that he was the one in charge here and the one who had called them all, but most of them didn t know him from Adam. The OneStop smock probably gave some of them the impression that he would be here as a friend of Caleb, and that was enough to make some keep their distance from him. For someone who lived such a sad and pathetic life, Caleb had some peculiar amounts of respect on the Hill. Lucas had been watching and researching Caleb for some time, almost since Caleb had first started at the OneStop Mart. How that guy became what he had was a complete mystery to Lucas, but at least Caleb s presumption had made it easy to learn where he kept his trophies.

Few of the guests conversed with each other. That wasn t too surprising, considering how many of the people here were open enemies. Mary McPhisto and Moorealan kept their distance from one another, and occasionally Lucas could see crackles of energy in the air between them as though they were magically testing one another. They wouldn t break out into open hostilities with the threat of so many artifacts that could be used to keep the peace, though. George the Hedgehog kept his distance from everyone as well, but that was probably more because he was afraid people would step on him. George had a bodyguard with him to keep people away in any case, although no one in their right mind would have intentionally stepped on a sentient hedgehog whose quills were poisoned to cause people to vomit their stomachs out. He wasn t the only one who needed a bodyguard by necessity. A robot, built to look human except for a few conspicuous bolts and gears, carried around a glass jar with a man s head suspended in green fluid. The head s eyes were open and alert, looking around at all the other guests with interest. The Senator Park Lunatics hadn t arrived at the pavilion yet, since they had just entered Leechman Park a minute or so ago, but the Walnut Creek Werebunnies already had several representatives present. Seven or eight more people stood around, some human and others not. Every single one of them was a person of great power or influence on the Hill.

Lucas approached one person that he didn t recognize, though. He was an average looking older white man in a non-descript suit, but he wore sunglasses despite the nighttime and held a briefcase in his hand similar to the one Mary McPhisto had brought. The only difference was that this man had the briefcase handcuffed to himself.

The man shook Lucas s hand and responded in a monotone. My name is Hamilton Baxter. And no, you wouldn t have met me.

Did I invite you tonight? Lucas asked. Because this is a very exclusive event.
Yes, I understand. Your shall I call them your security people? They attempted to stop me at the edge of the park. But I have a way with people.
They re not people. They re zombies. No one is supposed to have a way with them except me.
Of course. Forgive me. But I was forced to find a way into the park anyway, as while you may not have invited me specifically I am in fact here on behalf of my employer, who was indeed invited. With his free hand Mr. Baxter reached into his suit pocket, pulled out a business card, and then handed it to Lucas. It bore the distinct and instantly recognizable logo of Qwark Telecommunications.
My instructions to Mr. Qwark said specifically that he was to come himself, Lucas said.
Of course. Indeed. But Mr. Qwark is not in the habit of following instructions given by anybody other than himself.
Lucas resisted saying anything angry. His wanted to attack the man and try ripping his throat out, but he knew that to be more a remnant of the extract than anything else. The whole purpose of inviting all of these people here had been to make sure he got rid of all the purveyors of filth and indecency that made the Hill so horrible, but in truth he hadn t been sure about inviting the head of Qwark Telecommunications in the first place. There were many stories about Mr. Qwark, but all of them were vague. He had been the only one smart enough to request a demonstration and pictures of the artifacts to prove they were real, which was why Lucas had used the cube the second time and brought the penny along as well, so Qwark had to know a lot about these things. In the end Lucas had wanted him here simply to be thorough, but if he wasn t here Lucas could live with that. If Qwark was a threat then Lucas was could take care of the man at a later date.
Lucas did his best to politely dismiss himself from Mr. Baxter and checked his watch. The Senator Park Lunatics were still not within the immediate vicinity, but it was now three o clock. All of these people would expect the auction to be starting now. He had hoped he could ignore the charade of actually having an auction, but he didn t want everyone to get restless before the last people arrived. He wanted to make sure everyone was in range when it mattered.
Lucas reached into the pocket of his cargo pants and caressed the Confused Amulet of Water. It was warm to his touch, like it already knew exactly what it needed to do tonight and was already preparing. When everyone was here, that was when he would put the cord of the amulet around his neck.
And that would be when all the evil was finally punished.

Okay everybody, Caleb said. Phil could tell from his voice that he was starting to panic but didn t want it heard. Phil could understand that completely right now. I m going to say your name and then count to three and then you re going to tell me the first idea for an escape attempt that comes to your mind.

The zombies had set their chairs down in a line in the eastern pavilion and now were just shambling about with no apparent rhyme or reason. They stayed close to the three captives but made no sign that any of them heard what the three of them were saying. It was more like being surrounded by guard dogs than people. Rotting, festering guard dogs that stank to high heaven, but guard dogs nonetheless. There were probably better things Phil could be thinking of right now, but it suddenly occurred to him how little Sue usually stank. Maybe she used some special zombie hygiene products that her peers weren t unaware of. It was funny how a person s mind started dwelling on such things when he was about to be blown away in the magical equivalent of a nuclear explosion.

Caleb, Gloria said, I don t think that s going to help much.
I guess that means you re the first one to volunteer, Caleb said. Ready? One two three go! Phil was sure from the movement of her shoulders that she would have thrown her hands up in exasperation if they weren t duct taped behind the chair s back. You can t just expect us to come up with some brilliant escape plan like that!
I don t expect it to be brilliant at all, Caleb said. But an idiotic escape plan made up at the spur of the moment with no real chance of succeeding would still be better than just sitting here waiting to die. Try it again. One two three go!
Gloria sighed and shrugged. Fine. We, uh grease ourselves up with Crisco to help us slide out of the tape.
And where the hell would we get Crisco? Phil asked.
Hey, Caleb said it didn t have to be a good plan.
Yep, at least we re getting our brains going, Caleb said. You re turn, Phil. One two three go!
Man, this is stupid. It s not going to do anything, Phil said. They probably all had to face the truth. He wished, though, that Sue were here. Not just because he might be able to get her to fight Lucas s control long enough to free him, but because if he really was going to die he would rather it would be with her. Maybe no one else knew what it was that he saw in Sue, but he always kept going back to what he knew about how she had died, how she had done her best to save people, how she had fought off the
Oh.
Hey, Gloria said. If I had to play his idiotic game then you do too. So do it already. One two three go.
Phil turned to look at them both on his right. We dance our way out.
Both Caleb and Gloria stared at him for a moment before they turned to look at each other. Okay, your turn for a hopelessly ill thought out plan, Gloria said to him. One two three go.
No wait, Phil said. I m serious here.
No fair jumping on my turn, Caleb said. I was going to suggest something involving pigs and broken pieces of G.I. Joe action figures.
Just listen, all right? Phil said. Or even better yet. Watch for a second. He looked down at himself, unsure exactly how he was going to do this. His legs were taped to the wooden chair legs at the calves, giving him just a little bit of room to move his ankles and feet. Better yet, the chair was just a little too short for his larger height. That meant that his feet, when completely flat against the cement floor of the pavilion, pushed the front chair legs up off the ground several inches. He looked up and surveyed the zombies. There were six now. The rest had apparently been called back by Lucas's will to watch over the auction. None of the remaining zombies were facing their captives, and most of them weren t even under the roof of the pavilion. Pushing off a little with his feet, he moved the chair a little to the left. Then he moved it a little to the right. He added in just a hint of rhythmic movement to his shoulders and bobbed his head to the time of music that didn t actually exist.
The nearest zombie groaned and turned toward him. Phil continued the movements as a second zombie looked at him, then a third. The first zombie took a wobbly step toward him, and the noise that came from its mouth didn t sound happy.
Phil stopped moving. The second and third zombies went back to their aimless moving back and forth right away. The first one continued to stare at Phil for several seconds before he seemed to loose interest and followed his cohorts examples.
Okay, Gloria said. So just what the hell was that?
Rhythmic movement. The closest I can come to dancing while I m tied up in a freaking chair.
I don t get it, Gloria said.
Didn t I ever tell you how Sue died? Phil asked.
No. Not that I can remember.
But you told me, Caleb said. Gloria looked at him and he explained. There was this famous music video in the eighties. You know, the one with the dancing zombies?
Um, yeah, everyone s seen that one.
Well, long story short, Phil said. Sue died while they were making it all because real zombies hate it when people dance in front of them. The dead can t dance, so they re jealous.
Ooookay. Whatever, Gloria said. So just how is that going to get us out of these chairs?
Ever see an angry zombie? Phil asked. They can get vicious, and they re a whole lot stronger than they look. Strong enough that they can rip apart, oh, say for example a wooden chair.
Yeah, sure, Caleb said. Because they would really destroy the chairs we re sitting in before they would destroy us.
Maybe they would, Phil said. You know, if right as they re about to attack we throw ourselves to the ground and get the chairs between us and them. Then with the chairs gone we can get up and make a run for the center pavilion.
That s a completely stupid idea, Gloria said. The zombies are still more likely to kill us than anything else.
Do either of you have a better idea? I mean I m all for using Crisco and pigs instead, but I forgot to bring mine with me.
And I left mine in my duffel bag, Caleb said. Or at least the Crisco. I didn t have any pigs in there.
Please tell me you re joking, Gloria said.
Maybe I am and maybe I m not. I can think of a whole lot of great uses for Crisco.
Right, Phil said, before we take this conversation to its destined place in the gutter, maybe we should get a move on our only existing plan? You know, with the inevitable end of the world coming up on us any minute now?
Caleb looked first at Phil then at Gloria, then shrugged. What the hell. I can think of worse ways to die than while dancing, right? He shifted all his weight in the chair to one side then the other. Gloria did something similar, followed by Phil. He again moved the rest of his body in rhythm to his feet. He was sure what he was doing would never get him any respect on any stage or dance floor, but it didn t have to resemble a good dance. It just had to be recognizable as any sort of dance at all.
The same zombie that had reacted before turned to look at them again. His moan this time was much louder than earlier, and all five of the other zombies heard it and turned to where the first was looking. With a complete lack of rhythm of its own, the first zombie started coming towards them. The rest fell in closely behind it.
Okay, so we ve got their attention, Caleb said. Now what?
Actually it looks like only me and Phil have their attention, Gloria said. They re coming towards both of us, not you.
Well why the hell not? Caleb said. He was banging his head furiously and it was hard to hear his words.
Because just banging your head and stumbling your chair back and forth is not dancing, Phil said. You have no freaking rhythm whatsoever.
I do so!
Then try following a beat, white boy, Gloria said.
I am!
The zombies were all grouping together now and getting closer, but more importantly they seemed to be getting angrier. They were all moaning now, and the volume was getting very loud. Although they all still moved slowly they did at least seem to be trying to move quicker. Their legs were going a little higher and their arms were swaying a little more, and their heads seemed to be bobbing in a much slower version of what Phil was doing.
No, he realized. They weren t trying to move faster at all. They were trying to dance along with their captives, and they were failing. And boy was it making them pissed.
I think it s working, Phil said.
Oh yay, the pack of zombies now wants to kill us, Caleb said. We ve succeeded. Go us.
The zombies were only a few more feet away, their swaying hands reaching out for the captives, and Phil could feel the wind from their moving fingertips against his face. Okay, they re close enough. On three, everyone try to tip yourselves over, and try to roll enough that the chair is between you and the zombies. Ready? One, two
Caleb got a little over-zealous in his attempts at rhythm and fell to his right, hitting Gloria and knocking her over with him. Or we could go now, Phil said. He pushed off with his right foot as hard as he could, and his chair tipped over to the left. He let out a grunt as he landed hard with his arm against the solid concrete floor, but he didn t waste any time dwelling on the pain. He tried to roll himself over so the chair legs were sticking out in the direction of the zombies, but it was more difficult than he had thought it would be. He also couldn t really see the zombies from this angle.
Are they still coming? Phil said. He could barely hear his own words over the zombies groans.
I think so, Gloria said. But I can t really see where they oh shiiiiit! Phil tried to turn his head to see what was happening, but it sounded like Gloria s voice was now several feet in the air. Instead of just attacking her, it sounded like the zombies had actually lifted her into the air. Phil, I think your plan is officially a fail!
Phil felt a jerk from behind as the zombies grabbed the chair and lifted it. For a brief moment he got a glimpse of three zombies picking him up, and then he was on his back over their heads. From what he had seen of their posture, it appeared that they were getting ready to throw him. He doubted that being thrown across the pavilion onto a concrete floor when he couldn t break his fall would be a fun thing. He closed his eyes tight and waited for the impact.
It came a second later, but from a completely different direction than he had expected. He heard the growling first, then there was a thump as the zombies seemed to drop out from underneath him. His stomach lurched as the chair dropped beneath him, but something caught it before it hit the ground. There were some more angry groans from the zombies, but they were cut short by the sounds of their decayed flesh ripping, followed by more frenzied growls. As his chair was dropped to the floor, although much more gently than he had originally expected, Phil finally opened his eyes.
And stared right up into the drooling mouth of a half-transformed werewolf. He stifled a scream as the werewolf moved out of his vision, and Phil turned his head to see four other wolves nearby. Three of them were ripping apart the zombies just a few feet away, but the last one, a woman, was gently setting Gloria s chair down in its proper position on the floor.
And now, this time, the werewolf said to her, you really do owe me.
Yes, Gloria said with a smile. I guess I do.