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Authors: Ian Thomas Healy

Tags: #Redemption, #elvis, #religious symbolism, #graceland, #savior, #allegory, #virgin pregnancy, #apocalypse, #mother mary, #hope

Hope and Undead Elvis (25 page)

BOOK: Hope and Undead Elvis
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Fidel flitted around the grove, busy as a honeybee. He'd come back and press his cold wet nose against Hope's hand as if to verify she was still real, then tear off again on another doggy errand. At one point he started scrabbling through the dead leaves beneath a tree, nose stuck in the ground like it was glued down.

"What have you got, Fidel? A rabbit? Come on, leave the poor bunny alone." Hope stroked the curve of her belly and wondered what her baby would look like. Would he have her eyes? Her pert upturned nose and high cheekbones? If not, whose features would he bear? Fidel interrupted her daydreaming by sticking his nose against her hands. Hope asked, exasperated, "What, Fidel?"

He ran back to sit behind his treasure and stare at her, panting and smiling as if to say
See what I did? Aren't I a good dog?

It appeared that Fidel had dug a dead body from the leaves, naked bones with bits of dried-out gristle still hanging from them.

"Well, let's see what you've found here, Mister." She groaned as she levered herself off the rock upon which she'd been resting. The baby rearranged himself in her belly, giving her instant heartburn. She let out a delicate burp. "I hope you're not going to be one of those obnoxious kids," she muttered.

In spite of the world's end, Hope hadn't seen many dead bodies. The ground had swallowed them up like the Earth was keeping itself tidy.

The dead guy must have been there for months. His flesh had either rotted away or been eaten by animals, leaving only some of his skeleton and remains of clothing behind. "Sorry about this, but you're dead and I'm not." She rifled through the pockets of his stained and tattered jeans. She found a wallet with five hundred pesos and an identification card so faded she couldn't read it except for the man's name. "Martin Laguia," she said aloud. "What were you doing here in the middle of nowhere?"

The only other thing in his pocket was a weathered, round piece of plastic that seemed familiar to her. Hope rubbed the accumulated grime off it and realized it was a poker chip or a token shaped like one. The paint in its center was bleached and dirty, but the logo was still legible.

Graceland Casino.

All the strength seemed to go out of Hope's legs and she staggered to the nearest tree to lean on it for support. Could it be that she'd found a clue to her final destination after all this time?

The main reason she'd delayed her plans to leave was not having a strong enough destination in mind. Undead Elvis had told her to go to Graceland, and if this wasn't a sign that it was time for her to go, she didn't know what else could be clearer.

Maybe he was there already, waiting for her.

She turned to regard the body by her feet. "I'm sorry, Mr. Laguia. I don't have a shovel to bury you, and I don't think I can convince Fidel to do it for me."

Hearing his name, Fidel barked.

"But I promise I'll remember you." Hope held up the token. "For this."

She paused, wondering what else she ought to say, but couldn't think of anything. She scratched Fidel's ears instead and told him he was a good dog.

The dog stiffened and his hackles raised. A low, rumbling growl issued from his throat. Hope looked around, frantic and afraid of what she knew she would find.

In a nearby tree, a black bird watched her with its beady little eyes aglow with interest. It squawked and Fidel's growl escalated into a furious and protective bark.

"No," whispered Hope. "No, no, no!"

The bird stretched its wings, ready to flap away. Fidel's throaty baying reached a fevered pitch. Hope couldn't let the bird escape, but she didn't have any weapon. She'd grown so comfortable living with Nur and Rae that she'd forgotten to carry the Shepherds' pistol with her. She bent down, mindful of the strain of her belly, and grabbed the first thing she touched: the unfortunate Martin Laguia's skull. It separated from his neck vertebrae without resistance and in one smooth motion, Hope hurled it at the bird.

Both the bird and the skull shattered like glass. Black and white shards rained down all around Hope and Fidel, whose barking had ceased the moment the bird went away.

Hope looked all around, checking to see if she could spot any other birds. She couldn't. Fidel must not have sensed any either, for he relaxed. Hope could tell he was vigilant, for he stayed right by her side instead of wandering off to investigate things on his own. She stepped out of the grove and turned her eyes to the west.

There, on the horizon, was a dark smudge of smoke.

As fast as she could waddle, Hope hurried back up the lane toward the shop.

 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Hope and the Gathering Storm

 

Gasping for breath, her belly on fire and her feet aching and swollen, Hope hurried to the tent where Nur and Rae were working. Fidel trotted along with her, tongue lolling out but his tail down out of concern. He'd circle around like a nervous, furry satellite, checking ahead and behind before returning to her side.

She burst in through the canvas flap that served as the entrance. Nur had The Way's hood up and was adjusting something while Rae stood beside him with the tools, rubbing her belly in a gentle and absent-minded way. Nur cracked his head on the hood as he jumped, surprised by Hope's sudden entrance.

"What is it? What's wrong?" cried Rae.

"They're coming. The people burning the world. They're coming this way. We have to leave!" Hope's knees wobbed and Nur helped her to sit on The Way's tailgate.

"The Flame? What did you call them?" asked Nur. Rae clutched at his arm as she tried to understand his speech.

"The Righteous Flame." Nur pressed a plastic water cup into Hope's hands and she drank from it, grateful. "I saw the dark bird, the smoke cloud. It's only a matter of time."

"You're sure?" asked Nur. He kept his voice calm but Hope could see his face was troubled.

"It's those… those men, isn't it?" Rae shivered. "I was afraid they might find us. Nur, we have to leave. It's not safe here anymore."

"They'll come through and burn everything." Hope sniffled. "If we're here, they'll kill us. Or worse."

Nur started to gather up his tools. "How far away are they?"

"I don't know. Far enough that I can only see the smoke, not smell it."

"Do you have your gun?"

"No, it's in the trailer."

Nur held his out to her, grip first. "Take mine. Go get as much food and water as you can from the storage room. I'll get your car started."

Hope shook her head. "No. You keep it. Keep Rae safe. Don't let her out of your sight. I'll be right back. If I scream for help, I expect you to come rescue me."

"I will."

Hope had more than just food and water in mind. When she and Rae had first decided to stay with Nur, she had started building what she called survival kits for them all. At first it was out of fear that the Righteous Flame would come for them. Then it was out of fear that something else would happen that she couldn't fathom. At last, it was just out of a sense of completeness. As the weeks had passed, she'd stopped working on the kits, deciding that they were all as complete as she could make them from the supplies Nur had salvaged from wrecked cars.

Now, she was glad she'd had that foresight. There were three backpacks, chock full of clean clothes, both durable and warm. The pockets were full of creature comforts like toothpaste and soap, caffeine pills and Tylenol. A thermal sleeping bag and blanket were rolled up and tied to the top of each pack. She slung one over her shoulders and carried the other two to the trailer door, then went back for the food and water. Wheeled camping coolers, rescued from the wreckage of a trailer, were filled with canned food and a can opener. Bungee cords held a second box on top of each cooler, with a small propane grill and spare bottle, cooking pan, utensils, and a few miscellaneous tools from a Boy Scouts of America van.

Hope pulled the coolers to the trailer door and discovered Nur had The Way started and parked in front of the door, rumbling exhaust booming against the trailer's aluminum wall.

Hope put her cooler in the back and the bag in the passenger side. The wind picked up in earnest, carrying with it big, fat snowflakes. Hope shivered as she retrieved the Shepherds' pistol from where she'd kept it. She checked it. It still had a single bullet within. She tucked it into the pocket of the heavy, fleece-lined leather peacoat she'd selected from Nur's large collection. It was the only one she could close over her burgeoning belly, although it made her look like a leather tent with a head.

She re-emerged from the trailer and Nur and Rae had the tow truck idling beside The Way. Nur was loading it with last-minute supplies while Rae stayed in the passenger seat. Hope went to them. She could smell more smoke on the breeze, the scent made sharper by the snow.

"They're getting closer," said Rae over the truck's engine. She reached out her hand and found Hope's lips. "I'm afraid for your baby."

"I'm worried about yours," said Hope. "You and Nur should run. Far, far away."

"We plan to." Nur joined them. "We're going south to warmer climates. Maybe we can find a good-sized boat. This group… they'll find it harder to burn the ocean. Maybe they'll starve before then." He squeezed Rae's hand and looked at Hope with his dark eyes. "You should come with us. Let your child be born in safety and sunlight."

"I'd love to, and any other time I would," said Hope. "But I found this, and I think it's a sign." She held up the token from the Graceland Casino. "I was heading to Graceland a long time ago. And someone said I needed to go back there. That it would be safe for me."

"I understand," said Nur.

"You could come with me," said Hope. She felt like dropping to her knees and begging.

"No," said Rae, who seemed to understand somehow what was being said, despite her blindness and deafness. "The bad men can't follow us both if we split up. Perhaps they'll ignore you and pursue us to the south. Then you'll be safe."

"But what about you?"

Nur smiled. "My people have been battling superior forces one way or another for thousands of years. We'll manage." He looked down. "Take Fidel with you. He's a good dog. He likes you, and he'll protect you."

Fidel, hearing his name, barked and jumped into the bed of The Way.

"See? He's already made up his mind." Nur turned to the dog. "You take good care of Hope. Oh, take this." He held out a single bullet. "I've been meaning to give this to you for awhile now and kept forgetting. This one won't fit my pistol, but it'll fit yours."

Hope hesitated. More bullets at her disposal meant more people likely to die by her own hand. Or maybe she could use it to save someone's life someday. She took the bullet and fed it into the cylinder of the Shepherds' pistol, where it fit snug. The snow was dampening Hope's hair as she threw her arms around Nur and Rae, sobbing. "I'll miss you so much. I love you both."

Nur kissed her cheeks and Rae pressed her forehead against Hope's. The three held each other for what felt like forever, but wasn't nearly long enough. When they separated at last, snowflakes clung to their hair.

"We love you too, Hope," said Rae. "We won't say goodbye, because that's forever. Farewell." She squeezed Hope's hands, and then patted her belly. "Tell your son about us, as we will tell our baby about you."

Hope nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak anymore. The stink of smoke had grown. The Righteous Flame couldn't be far.

"They'll have a hard time burning if this storm keeps up," said Nur. "Be careful. Those tires aren't as good as they should be for bad weather." He helped Rae into the tow truck, and then went around to the driver's side. He paused, looked at Hope across the hood, and said, "I hope you find your Graceland, Hope, and that it's everything you need it to be."

Hope nodded. Nur got into the truck and turned on all his lights, even the overhead flashers that sparkled gold in the blowing snow. Hope watched as the Light of Allah truck rolled up the drive toward the highway. She turned to Fidel, who was wagging his tail but had his head down against the wind. "Come on, Fidel. You ride up front with me. I don't mind a wet dog."

As the dog bounded into the front seat, Hope wondered if she ought to do something about the trailer. There were still supplies inside it that somebody could use, not to mention all the vehicles and tools that Nur had left behind. Shouldn't she destroy them somehow, to keep the Righteous Flame from getting their hands on them?

No, she decided after thinking it over. She was better than that. If it was to burn, it wouldn't be by her hand. Maybe the men with their torches would lay them down when they found a place they could stay in safety and peace. She doubted it, but it was better to give them that choice instead of forcing them to continue their inexorable march, driving the flames before them like desperate shepherds.

A few more tears fell as she looked across the place that had been her home for what felt like forever. If Nur and Rae hadn't already fled ahead of the approaching fire, Hope would have stayed and fought, even at the expense of her life. She couldn't remember ever feeling such a strong attachment to a place. Her whole life seemed to have been spent in transit, moving from school to school as a child as her mother changed jobs, and then living in a series of motels throughout the southwestern states. She'd kept moving, because she'd been afraid to ever put down roots someplace, only to discover the ground might have been poisoned. So she lived out of a suitcase, a fugitive from herself.

BOOK: Hope and Undead Elvis
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