The Conch Shell of Doom (30 page)

I’m sorry, my friend. I let myself become consumed by the fire. I’ll be more careful until we complete Phase Three. Right now, we need to visit an old business associate. Franklin may have the Blade of Hugues de Payens, but he’s not alone. He’ll want to stock up, if you will.

Trenton settled down, and the pain inside Mr. Lovell eased up. “You two leave before someone shows up.”

“Not coming with us?” Deckland asked.

“No. I need to take of other things. Continue with everything while I’m away.”
 

Percy swallowed some Wild Turkey. “Where you off to? I thought we were good to go?”

Mr. Lovell didn’t respond. He spun in place until there was that unmistakable crack and then disappeared.

The kids would not shut up. They bounced from one conversation to the other and then sometimes came back around to a previous conversation. Each of them spoke over the other about different things. It was like listening to a bunch of cokeheads rambling all at once.

Julie drove so fast the RPM odometer redlined. Could it be Franklin wasn’t the only one the kids were driving insane? He’d never really been around teens that much, and when he had, life was so brutal they seemed more like forty than fourteen, but that was a long time ago. Things had changed. Franklin was convinced these teens were the most ADD-riddled group of people in all of recorded history. Their scattered conversations made Franklin’s head hurt. The four of them were so tightly packed into the back seat of Julie’s Camaro that the smaller one, Tim, held his legs as he lay across the other three. Franklin wondered if the close quarters made all the hot air inside them escape through their mouths.

“I hope I get a rocket launcher,” Marshall said from one of the coveted window seats. “So I can blow them back to hell.”

Franklin also deeply regretted the fact that he’d told them they were going to Raleigh to load up on weapons, which ramped the teens’ excitement to eleven. With the exception of the girl, who seemed to have at least a decent head on her shoulders, the others acted like they’d eaten a pound of candy on their way to a party that promised to be an epic combination of every major holiday.

“That’s not what you’d blow them with.” Bailey could’ve sat in the other window seat, but he let Alexis have it and sit in the middle. The gesture wasn’t lost on Franklin.

“Keep it up,” Marshall said. “See what happens.”

Bailey laughed. “Do you really think after the last couple of days that I’d be afraid of
you
?”

“You should always be afraid of me.”
 

Tim’s head lay in his sister’s lap. He glanced up at her. “You comfortable?”

“Packed in between three boys, one of whom is my brother, and I can’t move? Couldn’t be happier.”
 

Franklin rubbed his temples, the yapping making him entertain the idea of resurrecting Trenton. He’d lose his patience in two seconds and then melt their mouths shut, or something to that extent.

Julie glanced at Franklin out of the corner of her eye. “Not a kid person, I take it?”

“It’s all white noise to me. I don’t know how they can keep it up.”

“My mom always said don’t worry if they’re talking. Worry if they’re not.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because that’s usually when they’re up to something,” Julie clucked.

Franklin grinned. Julie’s mom had a good point. It didn’t help at the moment, but still. Food for thought.

The group made it to Raleigh in a little under ninety minutes, putting them an hour ahead of schedule. Franklin gave Julie the address of the House of the Rising Sun once they reached the city limits, and ten minutes later they’d arrived. He could’ve kissed her for driving so fast.

Julie parked between two cars that were already at the Rising Sun. A black Jeep with a New Orleans Saints license plate—definitely Remy’s ride–and a brand new Mercedes SUV, complete with temporary tags, which had to have cost someone a nice mint.

“Oh, sweet merciful Lord. Look at this.” Marshall’s hand hovered an inch over the Mercedes. “Do you have any idea how much tail you could get with this?”

“Tail?” Alexis raised an eyebrow. “Referring to women as tail won’t get you any tail, even if you had a car that nice.”

Marshall stopped. “Wanna bet?”

“You have nothing
to
bet.”

“That you know of.” A devilish smile broke out across Marshall’s face.

Alexis stuck out her tongue. “Gross, dude.”

Franklin shook his head. He didn’t hate kids. Before meeting Bailey and his friends, Franklin even dreamed of having a few every now and then. Having met Bailey and his friends, it was all Franklin could do not to strangle each and every one of those cretins.

“You all wait outside. Remy doesn’t like kids in his store.” Franklin didn’t know if it was the case or not, but it would give him a few minutes’ reprieve from their yapping.

Julie stopped at the door and turned to Franklin, a concerned look on her face. “Anything in here I need to worry about?”

“You’ll be fine.” Franklin opened the door for her. “Just follow my lead to be safe.”

Franklin walked in behind Julie. They were greeted by the sound of Remy arguing with a couple of teenagers. Franklin rolled his eyes.

You have got to be kidding me!
More high school drama
?
Shoot me now.

The boy wore a very nice, very expensive black suit and had strawberry-blond hair that looked like it’d been styled with a gallon of product so every strand stayed perfectly in place. His girlfriend had short, curly blonde hair that went in whichever direction it felt like. Franklin wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t bother him as much as the guy.

“We’re just asking for a couple of days,” the boy said. “After that, we’ll do whatever you want.”

Remy stood behind the counter, steaming. “That’s not how this works, and you know it. Either you do this for me now, or we’re through. Period.”

“Is there any way we can persuade you to give us an extension?” The girl had an unusually sweet voice. “We wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really important.”

The more he listened, the more Franklin got a weird vibe. The girl was definitely lovely, but the guy gave off a completely different attitude, like the two were polar opposites.

“No extensions.” Remy seemed more annoyed than usual. Franklin laughed to himself, happy that he wasn’t the only one being driven crazy by kids tonight.

The guy threw his hands up. “Fine. When the world ends in the next few days because of your demanding Creole ass, don’t come crying to us.”

“Please,” Remy huffed. “As if I’ve never heard that before.”

“Not from me, you haven’t!”

The pair moved past Franklin, who exchanged a glance with the one in the suit. A weird, sinking feeling collected in his stomach, but as soon as they broke eye contact, it went away. Strange.

“Oh.” The guy turned to face Remy. “One more thing.”

“Bartholomew,” Remy said. “You know the rules.”

“Leave it alone.” The girl wrapped a hand around Bartholomew’s arm. “Please?”

Ignoring her, Bartholomew flashed a big grin, showing off a mouth full of surgically whitened teeth. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and popped one in his mouth.

“That’s enough,” Remy said. “You’ll damage the potions.”

“Like love potions?” Julie whispered.

“Can’t control love,” Remy said, picking up on her comment. “But we do have a batch of liquid courage.”

“Or, you could just buy a bottle of booze. It
was
created to help ugly people get laid.” Bartholomew flicked the lighter on and held the cigarette in the flame, igniting the end. He took a long drag and then exhaled through his nose.

“Out.” Remy pointed at the door.

The girl pulled Bartholomew outside, chastising him for always having to cause a scene. The door closed before Franklin could hear Bartholomew respond. Just as well. Those two were weird.

“Sounds like your night is going as well as ours,” Franklin said.

“They owe me a favor, and it’s time to pay up.” Remy dismissed the notion of them with his hand.
 

“It sounded like whatever they were up to was pretty important.”

“There’s always someone in here talking about preventing the end of the world, which I’m guessing is why you’re here.”

“It happens that often?” Julie sounded alarmed.

“You wouldn’t believe.” Remy winked. “So? Am I right? You want to save the world?”

Franklin clapped. “Gold star for you.”

Remy looked unimpressed. “I’ll add it to the collection.”

Bailey, Alexis, Tim, and Marshall burst through the door, catching Franklin off guard. Even Julie jumped a little.

“What the hell?” Marshall asked as he barged in. “You said kids weren’t allowed. Imagine my surprise when two preppy kids come waltzing out of the same place you said we couldn’t go into.”

Bailey moved toward a rack of potions, scanning each of the labels. “Cool.”

Franklin glanced back at Remy and shrugged. “Sorry.”

Remy’s eyes narrowed, giving the kids a suspicious look. “Don’t touch anything. You touch it, I erase your memory and make sure you join a traveling circus, cleaning up elephant shit the rest of your life.”

Alexis stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Whatever you say.”

“You got it.” Bailey moved back a step. Any other day, none of them would’ve believed the threat. They’d have just called Remy a hairy crackpot and moved on, but it wasn’t any other day.

Franklin felt uneasy. He’d spent enough time with the kids to know if they were told not to do something, they’d do it in a heartbeat.
 

“Especially back here.” Remy gave them a careful eye and then stepped through the beaded curtain into the back, where he kept items for the more serious collector.

The House of the Rising Sun was the coolest place Bailey had ever seen in his life. He didn’t know if all the vials with labels like
Duck Mucus: Great for Acne Removal!
and
Dance Mix 1874
were real, but they looked it. There was even a weird, swamp-like smell to the place. If nothing else, the store
felt
like a voodoo shop, and they were going into the “VIP section,” as Remy put it.

Bailey tapped Remy on the shoulder. “Do you guys have a website?”

“No. I serve a very niche market. If everybody knew about this place, I’d never have time to have any fun.”

“Yeah, I hate making money too,” Marshall said.

“Remy here doesn’t have what you’d call good business acumen,” Franklin said.

“Like that’ll get you anywhere these days.” Remy laughed. “I get by. That’s all that matters.”

Bailey smiled. Yep, it was definitely the coolest place in the history of the known universe. He reminded himself to come back and do some serious shopping. After the world was saved, of course. Even Alexis grabbed his arm, a
wow
look on her face.
 

“Do you have something that can un-zombify people?” Bailey asked.

Remy rested his arm on a mushroom the size of a football. “Possibly. How long have they been zombies?”

“A day? A few hours? I’m not completely sure.”

Remy nodded, thinking to himself. “How gooey are they?”

“Gooey?”

“You’re seriously asking that? Awesome.” Tim’s lips curled back. Guess the conversation got his attention.
 

“Yeah. How gooey are they?” Remy’s face remained straight. “You know, the level of decomposition. Are they charred? Juicy? Something in between?”

Alexis
ughed
. “That’s disgusting.”
 

Bailey glanced over at her, unsure if she meant the conversation or the green brain in the jar next to her.

“Not that kind of zombie,” Franklin said. “Mr. Lovell worked his magic on them. They’re more cursed, I’d say. Under his spell.”

“Ah, so not zombified at all. That changes things.” Remy rubbed his chin. “I’ll think about that one, but I'm not sure I have what you’re looking for. Your best bet is to kill the source of the magic, which in this case is your old friend Mr. Lovell.”

Remy took a keychain out of his pocket, with a small silver key attached, which unlocked a large, dusty, black cabinet in the far corner. Before opening it, he turned to glance at everyone, counting to himself.

“There’s six of you,” Remy said. “That many items won’t come cheap.”

Franklin held up four fingers. “Four items. We’re good with our weapons.”

“Still. Money doesn’t buy happiness when it comes to what’s in here.”

“You
really
hate success, don’t you?” Marshall asked.

“Mouth off again, and I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life thinking you’re a frog. You’ll live in a swamp, and even try to catch mosquitoes with your tongue.”

Marshall gulped. “Sorry.”

“We can’t pay you, but we can trade,” Franklin said.

Remy’s eyebrows raised. “I’m listening.”

“The Blade of Hugues de Payens for whatever we need.” Franklin noticed Julie’s confused glance. “What? We won’t need it after, unless you feel like slicing your meat with a mythical weapon.”

“You really have it?” Remy leaned back against the locker, eyes moving between Franklin and Julie. “Show me.”

“See, the funniest thing happened.” Franklin chuckled and nudged Julie with his elbow. She joined in the nervous laughter. “I don’t have it on me.”

“Should’ve known.” Remy started to move past them.

“Wait.” Franklin grabbed his arm. “I have it, just not on me. I swear. I’ll even return whatever we take.”

“Consider it a rental,” Julie said. “You get everything back, plus a priceless weapon.”

“I can jive with that.” Remy pulled the unlocked door open. “Though most everything in here is priceless until I name a price for them.”

Bailey imagined what kind of weapons Remy stored in the cabinet. A sword that could cut through a boulder? A poison-tipped whip? Perhaps an axe that granted the holder superhuman strength? Mr. Lovell was
so
screwed.
 

“Be very, very careful with the stuff in here,” Remy said. “Only touch it if you want it.”