The Sunlight Slayings (6 page)

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Authors: Kevin Emerson

BOOK: The Sunlight Slayings
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“Ollie turned his first kill into a servant!” Sebastian announced proudly.

Phlox gazed at Oliver with wide eyes. “Honey, really?”

“I …” Oliver started. He narrowed his eyes at Bane, wondering:
Did you do this, too?

But Bane only returned a look of pure bitterness.

“The prodigy continues to impress!” Sebastian patted Oliver on the shoulder. “And you should hear the way Ollie talks to him. Making his commands sound like choices …”

Bane slid off his chair and slunk out of the room.

Oliver listened helplessly as yet another lie spun out of his control. He gave up. It was like no matter what he did, it led to some new lie. He wanted to scream:
I didn't do any of it! I'm not a prodigy!
Right now he should have been getting punished for all these things that kept happening. At least that would have made
sense
. But no, he was a star, and it just kept getting better, and yet worse at the same time.

“Unbelievable,” Phlox said. “Oliver, a zombie raising? That is so difficult!” Her eyes gleamed with pride. “How did you learn to do that?”

“I don't know,” he finally muttered. “You know, I just did.”

“I can't think of any other vampires,” Phlox went on, “who were masters at such a young age.”

“He followed us halfway home from the park like a loyal dog.” Sebastian beamed.

Phlox's gaze darkened. “The park … so what happened there?”

“Another attack,” Sebastian confirmed ominously. “It was the Astors' kid: Brent.”

“Did you catch anyone?”

“No,” Sebastian muttered, “but we will.”

Oliver headed downstairs, his thoughts distracted. At least if his parents thought he was Dean's master, they wouldn't mind the two of them hanging out. But if Dean found out Oliver's parents thought this, then Dean would also learn the popular belief that Oliver had killed him. Oliver sighed. This was going to be tough to manage. And yet none of that was as worrisome as what had just happened at the park, and the question of whether Emalie had been involved.

Chapter 6

The Codex

SUNDAY EVENING, OLIVER WOKE
to find that he could barely roll over to open the lid of his coffin. He dressed slowly. With each movement, he felt a dull burning pain spreading out from his side. He headed for the bathroom and examined his amulet wound. The red, spiderwebbing lines had grown. They now reached halfway across his stomach and up under his arm. Oliver couldn't believe it: They had almost doubled their reach. Maybe he did need to just tell his parents and get this taken care of. Maybe he could come up with a creative explanation for the wound, for the amulet shard.
What exactly am I going to tell them?
He had no idea.

Oliver searched among the long shelves on the wall until he found the dark glass jar of Poultice of Puffer Fish. He twisted it open and was greeted by a tangy, seawater smell. He dipped his finger into the jar and scooped out a dollop of the moist, dark brown substance. It looked almost like fruit preserves, but it was actually the mashed-up organs of the puffer fish. Deadly to eat for a living creature, puffer fish organs contained a toxin that was an excellent anesthetic for a serious vampire wound. Oliver pulled up his T-shirt and rubbed the poultice over the gash. He winced in pain—the poultice had a sharp sting at first—then felt the numbing effect take over. Oliver covered the area with a large bandage.

Upstairs, Oliver found Phlox in the living room. She was stretched out on the long black leather couch, flipping through a glossy brochure. The picture on the cover showed a volcanic eruption and streams of lava pouring into steaming seas. Across the top, it read:
Isla Necrata: Experience the Ultimate in Comfort & Chaos Vacations
.

“Hey, Oliver,” she said.

“Hey,” Oliver replied.

“Mom's off tonight. Grab whatever you want for breakfast.”

Oliver started back into the kitchen.

“How's Dean?”

Oliver shrugged. “I don't know.”

Phlox looked at him proudly. “I am still just so amazed that you made yourself a servant. How is he feeling about it?”

“Oh, um,” Oliver stammered, “he hasn't really said.”

“Well, sometimes zombies get a little bent out of shape. You know, they don't usually remember their death, and when they find out you killed them, they get a little cranky.” Phlox sighed. “They just don't have a larger sense of the world. Anyway, they fall in line eventually.”

“Mmm,” Oliver said, wanting to change the subject. “Well, I'm gonna go out.”

“Oh?” Phlox looked up, her fingernail frozen between pages. “Where to?”

“I don't know,” Oliver said. “Maybe to the park.”

“Listen, Ollie, we'd rather you stayed home tonight. With what happened yesterday—”

“Later, Mom.” Bane's head flashed into the living room.

“All right,” said Phlox, with a guilty glance at Oliver.

“We gonna string 'em up!” Bane shouted in a cowboy drawl, his voice dripping with excitement as he darted back across the kitchen. “This posse is ready to ride!” Bane's boots thudded down the stairs, and the door to the sewers slammed shut behind him.

“Why does Bane get to go out?” Oliver asked, trying not to whine but not really succeeding.

“Oliver, the attacks have been on children,” Phlox said carefully. “Bane and his friends wanted to help with the hunt.”

“Is Dad out on patrol again?”

“He'll be out all night tonight. And he wants you home.”

Oliver seethed inside, but didn't see any way to argue. Knowing Bane and his friends were out there hunting as well made him worry even more about Emalie. Still, he didn't see what he could do about it. “Fine,” he conceded, and headed for the TV and his video games. “I was going to go to the library tomorrow after school,” he muttered. “Can I still do that?”

“Well …” Phlox began uncertainly, her brow furrowing.

“It's for school,” Oliver lied, adding, “and the project is kind of due this week.”

Then Phlox nodded resolutely. “No, okay. We'll make that happen. We can't stay holed up in fear.
Hmph
, fear … If your grandmother could hear me now.”

Oliver could imagine Phlox's mother, Myrandah, raging in her thick Morosian accent about such a thing. There wasn't even a symbol for
fear
in Skrit. She would no doubt blame such a human emotion on the polluting effect of New World ideals and culture.

Phlox continued, “We'll make sure you can get to the library tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Oliver offered a smile, but inside he kept worrying about Emalie. If she was indeed the one wielding the Scourge, Oliver hoped she wouldn't be naive enough to head out for another attack tonight. The idea of Sebastian and his Half-Light team finding her, or Bane and his posse: Neither one would end well.

Oliver and Bane were on their way out the door the next evening when Phlox called: “Charles, don't forget, you're taking Oliver to the library after school.”

They both froze. Oliver looked up to find Bane scowling at him. Then he smiled. “Yup.” His arm flicked out, punching Oliver right on his amulet wound. Oliver stiffened in pain, trying not to show it. “No problem, Mom,” Bane added, “that'll be great.”

“Without the sarcasm, please,” Phlox groaned.

Oliver's side ached all the way to school, but he forgot about it when he arrived. He ducked through the back door to find his schoolmates carousing on the staircase, enjoying the grotesqua that shimmered on the walls. The three-dimensional spray-painted images that obscured the cheery human murals and bulletin boards had been completely redone for Valentine's Day. The halls glowed bloodred and danced with scenes of romantic tragedy—demons dueling for the hand of a maiden, lovers suffering beside graves.

“Hey, Oliver!” Seth appeared beside him on the staircase. “How was your weekend? Do anything cool?”

Oliver shrugged. “Not really.” Seth talking to him eagerly in the hallways was a good example of the subtle change in Oliver's world this past month. Seth and Oliver had absolutely nothing more to talk about than they used to. Except now, Oliver could feel Seth
trying
.

“I had a good weekend,” Seth volunteered. “Just hanging out, playing gaaah—”

Seth was yanked out of sight. Oliver felt hands slap hard on his shoulders. “What's up, Nocturne?” Theo and Maggots appeared on either side of him.

“Hey,” Oliver offered.

“So, Valentine's Day …” Theo said conspiratorially. “We boys have to stick together.”

Oliver glanced at Theo. It always took him a minute to figure out what Theo was talking about, and yet it didn't feel safe to actually ask Theo:
What are you talking about?
So Oliver nodded, again hoping that his silence would be mistaken for him knowing what was going on.

“I don't know if I can stand the adoration!” Theo shouted dramatically so that everyone could hear. Then he nudged Oliver, lowering his voice. “It's going to be the worst for you. Mr. First Kill and all.”

“Okay.” Oliver shrugged. He could feel that subtle effort from Theo now, too: trying.

“I suppose you've heard Suzyn and her friends giggling.…”

Oliver followed Theo's gaze down the stairs and saw Suzyn and her gaggle of friends eyeing them. Oliver was shocked to find two wide black eyes boring directly into him, belonging to the girl on Suzyn's left, Monique. She was shorter, with dark skin and a pile of braids tied back above her white collar. Oliver's eyes locked on her, and his thoughts raced with panic. Was his hair messed up? Tie crooked? Did he have cake on his chin? He turned back around immediately, tripping on the steps as he did so.

Oliver's class had Force Awareness and Manipulation first period of the evening. With a familiar sense of dread, Oliver soon found himself standing in the torchlit gymnasium, dressed in his gym uniform. The shorts. The tank top. They hung off him, only seeming to highlight the muscles he didn't have. Ms. Nikkolai, the F.A.M. teacher, insisted on uniforms, because heavy layers of clothing got in the way when climbing walls and added extra difficulty to spectralization and practicing their ceiling work, but Oliver wondered if Ms. Nikkolai might also be on a mission to crush Oliver's self-esteem completely.

The class stood in parallel lines, girls facing boys. Again, Ms. Nikkolai, who was standing in the center, claimed that this was the best way for everyone to see her—that one long line would be far too difficult to lecture to. But wasn't this really so that the girls could whisper and snicker to one another about the boys across the way? Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver saw Suzyn and Monique doing just that.

Theo leaned over from beside him. Oliver expected more jokes, but Theo was serious. “So did your dad spill any info on the Scourge?”

Oliver was surprised that Theo knew its name. Half-Light wasn't keeping as tight a lid on this as Sebastian seemed to think. “Just that Brent wasn't the first,” Oliver said seriously.

“It's got to be humans, right?” said Theo. “I just hope we get another chance at them.”

“They're gonna pay,” Maggots muttered darkly from beside Theo.

Theo licked his lips. “You'll let us know if you hear any more.…”

“Um, sure,” Oliver replied.

“That's enough, gentlemen,” Ms. Nikkolai called from across the room, a Russian accent sharpening the tips of her words. “Nocturne, Moore, do you have a problem I should know about?” Oliver looked around to see that the rest of the class had started scaling the walls for more practice with their ceiling work. He, Theo, and Maggots scrambled to catch up.

After school, Oliver found Bane outside, leaning sulkily against the playground fence, music blaring from his headphones. As Oliver reached him, Bane just turned and started off.

“Hold on,” said Oliver. Bane didn't stop. “Bane, hold on. We have to wait for Dean.”

Bane whirled around, pulling his headphones dramatically from his ears. “Oh.” He rolled his eyes. “That's right, of course, your minion.
O great Oliver, prodigy of prodigies!

“Well, why did you even raise him, then?!” Oliver suddenly shouted.

“Me?” Bane's eyes grew wide, and an incredulous smile spread across his face.

Oliver was so sick of these theatrics. “Yes, you, duh.”

Bane's smile widened. “Oh, boy, you've got problems now.
I
didn't raise your zombie, lamb. Hasn't it been sickening enough being part of the Oliver Show since you killed him?”


You
killed him!”

“Oh, give it up, bro! Think about it: If I were his master, why exactly would I let him hang out with you? He'd be doing my wonderful bidding!” Bane's smile faded for a moment, as if he was contemplating this missed chance.

Oliver just stared at him. “It had to be you.” But Bane had a point: He'd have found endless things to do with a zombie servant.

“Oh, just wait until Mom and Dad find out!” Bane laughed. “You know what, forget what I said. This is great. The more that gets heaped on you, the more it's going to come crashing down when everyone discovers you're a fraud! Now
that's
something to look forward to!”

“Hey, guys.” Oliver turned to find Dean walking up beside them. “How's it going?”

Bane wrinkled his nose dramatically. “Oh, gross.” He stalked off ahead of them.

Dean's smile faltered.

“Ignore him,” Oliver said. “Come on, we're going down to the library.”

“Oh, cool.” Dean nodded. “We're going to try to figure out who raised me?”

“Yeah,” said Oliver, “and what's going on with the sunlight slayings.”

“Hey,” said Dean. “You don't think Emalie had something to do with that, do you?”

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