Vegas Knights (36 page)

  "We can't just leave them there," Walter said. "What can we do?"

  I opened my eyes and saw that he was talking to me. "Nothing," I said.

  I took Powi's hand and walked back into the penthouse. Houdini was waiting for us there.

  "Are you ready to get started?" he asked. "With your help, I should be breathing as easily as your man Walter in no time at all."

  Powi slapped him in the face. Dust rose from his skin.

  "What about Andy, Robbie, and Danny? What about Jackson's mother? What about Mamaci?" Her voice rose with every word until it came just short of a fullout scream.

  Unruffled, Houdini smoothed the skin of his cheek back into place. "The discomfort of a few is a small price to pay to kill death, I think."

  "What about all the people buried in graves around the world?" I looked back at Dad laying Mom to her final rest. He still cradled her in his arms.

  She was trying to push him away.

  Although life had left her, it seemed that the unlife that Houdini had given all corpses had returned. I shivered with revulsion.

  "No, Luke," Mom said to Dad. "This is wrong. Wrong. I don't want to go on like this. I don't want Jackson to see me like this."

  Of course, it was too late for that. Blood covered Mom's face and chest, and her eyes had rolled back into her head, showing nothing but whites. The pallor of death had already returned to her skin, and anguish had once again twisted her beautiful features into something desperate and ugly.

  I clutched at my stomach and wondered how long I could last without being sick.

  At that moment, Hardeen walked into the room from behind the elevator shaft, red faced and breathing hard. "It's over, Harry," he said. "You won. Let these people go."

  "Dash!" A wide and honest grin spread on Houdini's face, and he flung his arms wide to greet his estranged brother. "It's damned good to see you. I'd long since given up on having any family around to share my triumph."

  Hardeen did not respond in kind. "This isn't a social visit, Harry. I'm not here to congratulate you. I just ran up sixty-six flights of stairs to get here, and I'm too tired to make nice."

  Hardeen glared down at his shorter brother. "It's time to see what your grand plot here was all about, Harry. You always claimed you only wanted to bring yourself back to life. What are you waiting for?"

  Houdini looked down at his cold, wrinkled hands. Then he looked over at my mother, still in my father's arms, now weeping tears of blood over her own death.

  "Do you mean something like 'Now that I have power over death, would I prefer to become the zombie king?' You know the magic doesn't work like that." He spoke to Hardeen but never took his eyes off my mom.

  "Even if it did, I don't know that I could bear it." Houdini turned back to Hardeen now. "I felt horrible about every one of those experiments of mine that went bad. I wanted them all to live."

  "But you didn't let that stop you," Hardeen said in a hard voice.

  "I know," Houdini said. "But if anything, the failures spurred me on even harder. I hoped that if I could solve my own predicament I could save them too." He winced at another moan from my mother. "I regret to say it appears I was wrong about that too. I – I only sent those failures of mine to keep you away from me because you were so damned hardheaded about it. I knew they wouldn't hurt you."

  "Not for any lack of trying."

  "I'm sure. I–" Houdini's voice faltered. "I'm sorry."

  Hardeen's face softened. "What's it going to be then, Harry? Now that you've succeeded, what's keeping you from collecting your prize?"

  Harry glanced over at my mother again. "Would it be all right if I admitted I was scared?"

  Hardeen scoffed. "You, scared? The great daredevil Harry Houdini? The man who defied death countless times, sheerly for the entertainment of others?"

  Houdini mustered a weak but game smile. "I haven't been able to feel much of anything over eighty-three years, Dash. I've been dead longer than I've been alive."

  "That's fine," Hardeen said, "but you can't let it stop you." He reached over and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. It was glowing.

  As the golden glow moved into Houdini from his brother, Houdini cried out and crumpled to his knees. Hardeen followed him down, never taking his hands off him for an instant. Houdini howled in agony, but he never once tried to get away or asked Hardeen to stop.

  The glow crept along until it covered every inch of Houdini's form. His flesh began to fill out, erasing the cracks and wrinkles that had marked his desiccated skin. The color returned to his cheeks, his lips pinked up, and his hair even grew dark once more. His pained cries went from a raspy hiss to a guttural groan.

  The glow soon faded from Houdini and then from Hardeen as well. "That's all your body will take, Harry," Hardeen said. "I hope it's enough."

  Houdini lay strewn across the floor, his lungs unable to quite catch the breath that had returned to them. I wondered if he might die again at any moment, just like my mom – and if that happened, what would that mean?

  The elevator bell dinged. The doors opened, and Siegel and every one of the magicians of the Cabal poured out of it. They all bore the pallid skin and empty eyes of the walking dead.

  "Harry Houdini!" Siegel stabbed a waxy finger at the great magician. "You murdered all of these people, and now you're going to pay!"

  Walter stepped up with his shotgun, which he'd collected once again. He pumped a shell into the chamber and leveled it at Siegel. "Back the hell off!" he said. "I know how to deal with zombies."

  "Don't try it, Walter." Powi pointed at the weapon's bent barrel.

  He dropped the weapon as if it had become hot enough to blister his hands. He rubbed his chest through the hole the gun had made in his shirt, and he backed up a step. "Never mind then."

  Hardeen rose to his feet between the zombies and his brother. I saw Bill standing there behind Siegel, along with Misha, Melody, Ryan, Cindi, Christian, Owen, Peter, Ming, and all the rest, every one of them murderously mad.

  Houdini was too weak to stand. The blood in his veins had not flowed for over eighty years, and despite the preparations he'd made before his death he was in no shape to fight, only to roll over on his side. Still, he looked far better than my mother had, and he seemed like he might manage to stay alive – unless Siegel and the others destroyed him first.

  "It's over, Bugsy," Hardeen said. "He did it. He won. He's alive."

  "Not for long!" Siegel launched himself at Hardeen, and the rest of the Cabal followed after him, snarling for Houdini's blood.

  "Can't you control your dogs?" Hardeen said. "Isn't that why you bound them to you in the first place?"

  Houdini struggled to his knees. He may have seemed weak, but he spoke with a voice that could command armies. "I can understand why you and the others are upset, but you cannot speak to me this way. Stand down!"

  Siegel laughed. "Those tattoos only bound us to you for the rest of our lives. They've expired. We may be dead, but at least we're free – to kill you!"

  The Cabal magicians surged forward behind Siegel as he stalked toward their prey. Hardeen helped his brother to his feet, and the two of them braced themselves for the inevitable assault.

  "Hold it right there!" Dad shouted the order at the top of his lungs, and every set of eyes in the room – living and dead – turned to watch him. He stood there behind the crypt, still holding my undead mother in one arm as she wept on his shirt.

  "I cast this spell, the one that brought you all back," Dad said. "And I can break it. So help me, if you harm any one of us, I'll send you all straight back to hell!"

  The dead magicians all froze, unsure of what to do. Their fury at their fate demanded revenge, but not at the cost of the last shreds of their existence.

  "And send your precious wife there with us?" Siegel sneered. "You're a bad bluffer, Luke. You haven't got it in you."

  "Don't make me do this!" Dad said. "Stop!"

  "You must do it, Luke," Houdini said. "Break the spell!"

  Powi moved to protect Walter and Mamaci. "You can't just kill them all," she said to my dad. "Can you?"

  "He doesn't have a choice!" Mamaci said.

  Siegel laughed. "By the time we're done here, everyone in Las Vegas will be dead – and then we'll branch out to the rest of the world. If we have to be dead, we might as well rule. And no one will be able to stop us." He spoke over his shoulder to the other dead magicians. "Take them apart," he said. "Tear them into pieces. Kill them all!"

  Hardeen charged straight at Siegel.

  Walter put up his fists, ready to take on the undead with his bare hands. "Bring it on, zombies!" he bellowed at them.

  Powi joined Walter at his side, ready to defend the brother she'd just brought back to life, even if that meant they both died in the process. Rather than rally with her grandchildren, Mamaci launched herself into the fray. Misha charged at her, swinging hard, but she dodged his clumsy attacks. Death had not been kind to his reflexes.

  Dad climbed into the crypt next to Mom and held her tight. "What's happening?" she kept saying. "What's happening?"

  I could hear Dad wailing in a plaintive voice, "No, no, no. No, no, no."

  I ran straight at Bill. He was so furious, he was frothing at the mouth.

  I grabbed him by his shoulders and shook him hard. He snarled at me, not a hint of recognition in his eyes. There didn't seem to be anything human left.

  "Bill!" I shouted into his face. "It's me! Jackson!"

  He formed his hands into claws and tried to tear off my face.

 
 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
 

I brought my arm up in time to block Bill's attack, but he wasn't the only one coming after me. Melody grabbed me from behind and sank her teeth into my shoulder. I yowled in pain and hit her in the face to try to knock her off.

  It didn't work, and it gave Bill the opening he needed to get his hands around my throat and start throttling me. While I tried to get my fingers under his hands enough that I could breath, Ryan stormed up and started punching me in the gut.

  I knew I wouldn't be able to take much more of this. They weren't the people I'd once known. They were undead killing machines, and I needed to get away from them as fast as I could.

  Unable to phase through the floor, I tried to take to the air, but both Bill and Melody clamped onto me and held tight. Bill weighed more than Melody, so I pitched over in his direction as I took off. I slammed into the ceiling as hard as I could. That dislodged Melody, but she tore a chunk out of my shoulder as she fell to the ground.

  "Time to die," Siegel said. "Time for everyone to die!"

  Looking past Bill, I saw Houdini standing back to back with Hardeen. The two of them battled a circle of zombies trying to bring them down. Hardeen reached out with a red-hot hand, and his touch set clothing and flesh ablaze wherever it landed. Meanwhile, Houdini caused a hole to open up beneath one of the zombies – Alejandro – who disappeared into the room below.

  With Bill choking me, I was starting to black out. I had to move fast.

  I flew toward the crypt and tried to scrape Bill off of me by zipping right over the top edge of it as he hung from my neck. He hit the stone side of the tomb hard, but he refused to let go. I smashed into the edge of the crypt myself and tasted blood in my mouth.

  The impact loosened Bill's grip for a moment, and I managed to croak out a cry for help. "Dad," I said, "he's killing me. You have to break the spell."

  "No." Dad held Mom tight and buried his face into her neck. This close to her, the smell of the formaldehyde might have made me ill if I hadn't been so focused on keeping Bill from killing me.

  "Luke!" Mom's voice sounded like she was underwater. She cleared her throat, and blood dribbled down her chin. "That's Jackson, Luke. You have to save him."

  "I can't," Dad said. "I can't lose you. Not again."

  Bill closed his hands around my throat again. The last thing I managed to croak out was "Mom!"

  "I'm already gone, honey, but Jackson's right here. He's still alive.
You have to save our baby!"

  I took to the air again aimed for the window that Dad and I had smashed open earlier. I managed to wrestle Bill around so he took the brunt of the impact when we smashed into the railing. He still kept his grip around my neck.

  Desperate to try something – anything – that might work, I grabbed Bill by the sides of his head. I tore at his hair and his ears, but he never flinched. No amount of pain could distract someone who was already dead. He just kept throttling me, and I knew I wouldn't be able to take it for much longer.

  A roaring sound started in my ears as my vision began to go black. It seemed like I was falling away from the picture formed by my eyes, which became the light at the exit of a lengthening tunnel I would never see the end of again.

  Since I couldn't hurt Bill, I did the one last thing I could think of.

  I healed him.

  The golden glow flowed out of my hands and straight into Bill's head. From there it poured down into the rest of his body. As it went, I saw the pallor fade from his skin, and the madness drain from his eyes.

  I pumped as much of my mojo into the healing magic as I could. When the glow finally reached Bill's heart, he froze like a statue. A moment later, the glow kickstarted his heart, and he let go of my throat.

  Coughing air into my lungs, I shoved myself away from him and glanced back through the smashed window.

  I spotted Powi fighting alongside Walter. She broke Misha's neck with a savage kick, but he kept coming at her anyway. Cindi grabbed her from behind, while Christian and Owen tackled Walter.