The Book of Death (47 page)

Sanchez nudged Flake. ‘They look
worse than you.’

‘What?’

‘I mean their faces are covered
in black stuff, you know, bit like yours, but worse.’

Flake sighed. ‘How do you stay
single?’ she muttered.

Before Sanchez could respond,
Kacy screamed out. ‘Shit! My back is on fire!’

The back of her sweatshirt had
caught fire and the flames were flickering dangerously close to her hair. Dante
reacted quickly and dragged her to the ground. He rolled her over in the snow
to put the flames out. Flake rushed over to help him pat out some small flames
that were flickering underneath the arms on her sweatshirt.

Kacy screamed out. ‘Get it off
me. It’s burning!’

Sanchez hurried over to help
Flake and Dante pull the sweatshirt over Kacy’s head. Fortunately before he got
there they had succeeded in ripping the sweatshirt off and throwing it to one
side. Black smoke still poured from it as it lay simmering in the snow. Kacy
was left lying in the snow in just her underwear.

‘You okay?’ Dante asked. ‘Any
burns anywhere?’

Flake hauled Kacy up into a
seated position and brushed some debris from her back. Kacy began rubbing her
arms. ‘I think I’m okay,’ she said. ‘It’s a good job I’m not feeling the cold.’

Dante kissed her on the
forehead. ‘You look hot, always.’

Once they’d come to the
conclusion that Kacy had escaped unscathed from the flames, she stood up and
dusted herself down. Dante slipped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in
tight, brushing some snow off her chest. Sanchez noticed that her underwear had
gotten rather wet in the snow and was now looking decidedly see-through. Out of
politeness he chose not to mention it.

Flake looked over at the
entrance. ‘Where’s the Bourbon Kid?’ she asked.

Dante shrugged. ‘He went after
the museum’s manager. Had a score to settle with him, I think.’

Beth poked her head around from
the back seat of the car. ‘He’s gone after Elijah Simmonds?’

Dante nodded. ‘Yeah. He’ll get
him, don’t worry.’

‘But what about the fire?’

Another loud explosion from
inside the museum drowned out everything. Some windows on one of the upper
floors shattered and glass fell down onto the street not far from where they
were gathered.

Dante grabbed Kacy by the arm
and pulled her out into the road, away from the falling debris. ‘Look,’ he said
pointing to the sky. ‘There’s a blue moon coming out through the clouds.’

Kacy looked up. ‘Does that mean
we can go back to being human?’ she asked.

Dante nodded. ‘Yeah. We should
do it now. Where’s the Eye?’

Flake pointed over to the car.
‘Beth should have it back there.’

‘Is this it?’ said Beth, holding
the blue stone up.

‘Yeah,’ said Dante. ‘Mind tossing
it over here?’

Beth tossed the stone over to
him. He caught it in his free hand and planted a kiss on Kacy’s forehead. ‘You
ready to do this babe?’

‘Sure. What we gotta do?’

‘Stand under the moonlight and
hold it up. It kinda lights you up real bright so everyone can see you for
miles around. After a while you just go back to being human, I think.’

Kacy gave him a gentle dig in
the ribs. ‘Can we do it somewhere a little more private then? I already look
kinda naked here. Not sure I need to be lit up for everyone to see.’

The sound of a distant fire
engine approaching with its siren blaring made the decision an easy one.

‘We’re getting the hell out of
here,’ Dante announced. ‘Shall we all meet up somewhere later?’

Flake looked to Sanchez. ‘How
about we all go for a drink at the Tapioca? We can work out what story we’re
gonna tell the Captain.’

Sanchez shrugged. ‘Fair enough.
Although, I usually just make the story up as I go along when the cops question
me about anything.’

‘How do you get away with that?’
Flake asked.

‘I’m renowned as a bullshitter.
They expect it.’

‘So it’s settled,’ said Dante,
interrupting their trivial aside. ‘We’ll head there once we’ve fixed ourselves
up?’

‘Sure,’ said Sanchez. ‘See you
there in about an hour.’

Dante and Kacy hurried off
across the street and down a back alley, disappearing out of sight just before
the fire engine pulled up at the scene. As the firemen started preparing to
fight the fire Sanchez made a suggestion to Flake.

‘We should really get out of
here,’ he said. ‘We should probably get Beth to a hospital after all she’s been
through.’

Beth called out from the back of
the car. ‘Can’t we wait to see if JD is all right? I’m feeling okay now.’

Flake walked over to Beth and
leaned down to take a closer look at her. ‘Have you seen yourself in the
mirror?’ she asked.

‘No,’ Beth replied tentatively.
‘Do I look bad?’

Flake smiled. ‘That scar you had
on your face, it’s gone.’

Beth swallowed hard. ‘What?’

‘Take a look in the rear view
mirror. You look beautiful.’

Sanchez peered over Flake’s
shoulder to see if she was telling the truth. Beth’s scar had indeed vanished
courtesy of the healing powers of the Eye of the Moon. ‘She’s right,’ he said,
agreeing with Flake. ‘You look gorgeous. It’s a shame about all that blood on your
top though. Spoils the look a bit.’

Beth took a look at her
reflection in the car’s rear view mirror. She ran her fingers across her cheek
where her scar had once been.

‘I don’t believe it,’ she
whispered. ‘After all this time, it’s gone.’

She was so overjoyed at the
sight of her new reflection that she barely heard the sound of a gunshot from
within the museum.
 

Sixty-One

Special Agent Richard Williams
had seen some bullshit during his twenty years in the FBI, but the report he’d just
read about the events in Santa Mondega bordered on farcical. A former colleague
of his, Detective Miles Jensen, had been assigned to this same shithole town a
year earlier and had vanished without trace amidst rumours of supernatural
activity. Williams had kept an open mind about the whole thing, but now as he
sat in the Captain’s glass walled office with two halfwit cops who had filed a
report on the latest of the city’s many massacres, he was convinced someone was
having a joke at his expense.

‘Is this a joke?’ he asked.

The two cops sitting opposite
him looked like halfwits. The first one, Sanchez Garcia, was proudly wearing a
highway patrolman’s outfit, with the sunglasses and Stetson hat still on. The
other, Officer Flake Munroe, clearly took herself seriously as a cop, but
looked too inoffensive for it. She answered Williams’s question soberly.
‘That’s the events exactly as they happened,’ she said.

Williams forced a fake smile.
‘Right,’ he said leaning back in his chair. ‘Let me just summarise this out
loud, so I can be sure I’m getting it right. According to you, this city was
taken over by a mummy who created an army of vampires and werewolves to carry
out his plot to take over the world.’

‘That’s right,’ said Sanchez.

‘Uh huh. And these vampires and
werewolves are responsible for all the murders in this city.’

‘Most of them,’ said Flake. ‘A
lot of the kids were killed by Santa Claus.’

Williams took a deep breath and
loosened his tie. ‘Of course. Santa was responsible for all the child killings.
And then of course there’s the Bourbon Kid who you say was responsible for
saving the city from the undead.’

‘He played a part,’ said
Sanchez. ‘It was a team effort though.’

‘A team effort, huh.’ Williams
stopped fiddling with his tie and ran his fingers through his thinning silver
hair. This was exasperating. ‘So which one of you guys set fire to the museum?’

‘That was the mummy,’ said
Sanchez. ‘He did it with laser bolts from his hands.’

‘Laser bolts, of course.’
Williams stared hard at Sanchez. The idiot cop in his stupid highway patrol
outfit was keeping a straight face throughout the interrogation. ‘I find it
interesting that the report also says you set fire to Santa Claus in the
street, in front of a group of Sunflower Girls.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Nice work. You sure you didn’t
set fire to the museum too?’

‘Quite sure, thanks.’

Williams tried to eyeball
Sanchez, but could see nothing through the other man’s dark glasses.
‘Interesting,’ he mused. ‘The Casa de Ville burned down too. No survivors there
either. You were there that night too, before you went to the museum, right?’

‘Correct.’

‘Seems like these fires follow
you around, Mr Garcia.’

‘Yes it does. Better than being
followed around by flies though.’

Williams resisted the urge to
lunge over the desk at Sanchez. He wanted these two idiots out of his office
and off the police force as soon as possible. He took a moment to calm himself
before continuing. ‘You’re also claiming that a book called The Book of Death
which you stole from the library was causing the death of everyone whose name
was written in it.’

‘Yep.’

‘This book also burned in the
fire, along with another book, sorry
,’
he paused for dramatic effect,
‘
another
magic
book that you say kills vampires.’

Flake jumped in. ‘I can vouch for
the magic bit. I used it to kill the Vampire Queen. And a librarian.’

‘Did you?’ Williams’s voice
dripped with sarcasm. He was convinced they were taking the piss, yet the pair
of them maintained their straight faces. ‘And yet all of the evidence that could
back up anything you’ve said in this report burned in the fires at the museum
and the Casa de Ville. Isn’t that convenient?’

‘On the contrary,’ said Flake.
‘I think it’s somewhat inconvenient. You clearly don’t believe anything we’ve
put in that report. The evidence would have come in handy. Wouldn’t it,
Sanchez?’

‘Yep.’

Williams reached forward and
closed the report folder on the desk in front of him. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Let me
get this straight. You two are proudly claiming to have used a pair of books to
defeat an army of vampires.’

‘And werewolves,’ Sanchez
chipped in.

‘And werewolves,’ Williams
repeated, wearily.

‘Come to think of it,’ Sanchez
went on, ‘I hit a zombie over the head with a stick at one point too.’

Williams ignored the latest
boast from Sanchez and carried on. ‘So how many names did you write in The Book
of Death, Sanchez?’

‘Just the names of the mummy and
the Vampire Queen,’ said Sanchez proudly.

‘Just the bad guys, huh? What
about Elijah Simmonds? Did you write his
name in the book?’

‘Who?’

‘The museum’s assistant manager.
His charred remains along with that of a security guard named James Beam were
found in the fire. Autopsy reports say Simmonds blew his own brains out with a
Desert Eagle, and Beam was stabbed to death. It’s hard to tell though, because
there wasn’t much left of either of them after the fire. Neither of you two
have mentioned anything of this in your report. Were Simmonds and Beam vampires
too?’

Sanchez raised an eyebrow. ‘Jim
Beam is dead?’

‘Yeah. Know anything about it?’

‘Nope.’

Flake gave Sanchez a playful
shove. ‘Jim Beam,’ she said with a laugh. ‘I meant to tell you, that bottle of
Jack Daniel’s you gave to Rick was full of Jim Beam. I tried some of it last
night.’

Sanchez shrugged. ‘I didn’t have
any Jack Daniel’s left, so I took an empty bottle and filled it with Jim Beam.
Figured Rick wouldn’t know the difference.’

Williams slammed his hand down
on the desk. ‘Hey, do you two mind? I’m trying to establish what happened in
this case.’

‘It’s pretty simple,’ said Sanchez.
‘Everyone died. The end.’

‘You’re an idiot,’ Williams
snapped. ‘I have no idea how they let you wear a uniform.’

‘Are we done?’

‘Not yet,’ said Williams. ‘One
last thing in your report that I want clarification of. What happened to the
Bourbon Kid? Your report says he was in the museum when it burned down.’

‘That’s right,’ said Sanchez.

‘Well we’ve got no body for him.
All the bodies we pulled out of the fire have been identified. He’s the only
one not accounted for.’

Sanchez and Flake both shrugged.
‘Come on,’ Williams demanded. ‘What happened to him?’

Sanchez raised a hand
tentatively. ‘Maybe he’s still in the museum.’

Williams frowned. ‘What?’

‘I read about a cat once that survived
for six months in a house that was burned down. Apparently it survived by
eating the ash.’