Dark Destiny (21 page)

Then the waitress returned with a large salad in her hand. Just as she was about to put the salad down, her eyes darted to the windows and she screamed. The plate clattered to the table, lettuce, tomatoes, and croutons flying everywhere.

Both Sebastian and Sara tried to jump out of the way, but they were too late. Covered with food, they stared at the waitress in shock, trying to comprehend what had spooked her. She was fixated on the window, her eyebrows lifted and her jaw gaping open. With a shaky hand, she pointed at the window. They followed her gaze and saw a reflection of a horrific, bloody, decaying zombie.

Sebastian and Sara leapt to their feet as more zombies appeared one after another behind the glass, each one seeming to materialize out of the wet air. All of them were translucent, ghostlike. There had to be hundreds of them. Then, completely synchronized, they all raised their hands and pointed at Sara.

“What do they want with me?” Sara asked.

“I don’t know. But let’s get out of here.”

He took her hand and
blinked
.

Tuesday, 11:49 pm (Purgatorium)

Surveying the scene, Jared had no idea where he was. It resembled Druid Park, but he couldn’t be sure. With everything so different, so blackened and destroyed, it was hard to tell. Deadened tree branches, bare and burnt, hung low, casting creepy shadows across the barren ground. Mr. Zombie had been leading the way, explaining how the Hierarchy of Souls had come to exist. Jared hung on every word.

“Just to be clear,” Jared said, “when a human dies, they come over as a Lesser Soul. But when a witch dies or some other supernatural creature, they come over as a Phantom or whatever they were equal to in the Living World.”

“You got it,” said Mr. Zombie with a slight smile. Jared wondered besides being a comedian, if Mr. Zombie had been a teacher in his past life.

“Badass!” Jared said, smiling.

“If you say so.”

“But, what about those?” Jared wondered aloud, pointing to what appeared to be living shadows. Some had jerky movements while others seemed to slide across the road like living oil spills.

“Stalkers,” Mr. Zombie said, hesitating. “You stay away from them.”

“Why?”

“They come to the graveyard to eat.”

“To eat? Eat what?”

Mr. Zombie turned to him and raised his eyebrows slightly, as though Jared ought to know.

Jared’s eyes grew wide. “Are you serious? Like bodies or Souls?”

“Both.”

“Sweet!”

Putting the lit cigarette in his pocket, Mr. Zombie stopped walking and turned to Jared with a hard look. “I’m serious, Jared. Stalkers are no joke. They are the lowest of the low. Souls who have given up on everything and have digressed into what you see. They are foul, nasty creatures that only have two goals: wreaking havoc and consuming any Souls they catch alone. If they catch you alone, they will kill you.”

Mr. Zombie poked Jared in the chest. “It’ll be a final death, just like that dumbass Poltergeist. And once your Soul is destroyed, that’s it. You’re done, understand?”

Shifting his gaze to his chest, Jared placed his hand over his heart. “I see.”

“Come on,” Mr. Zombie said, motioning for them to continue walking. “We’re almost there.”

They entered a large cave, which seemed to descend into the ground. The cave floor was smooth, and the entrance was so steep Jared had to lean back to avoid tumbling forward. Dripping water echoed in the background, giving Jared the sense they were traveling deep underground. Fire lit torches were mounted on the cave walls, but the light they projected was barely enough to penetrate the inky darkness.

“Who knows, maybe you could get a rank up,” Mr. Zombie said casually.

They passed two Lesser Souls dressed in rags. Both resembled scarecrows with twisted mouths and jagged little teeth. They seemed to keep guard.

Finally, after descending for what seemed like a mile, the ground leveled off into an open space. The lights were brighter here and Jared saw that they had entered what appeared to be a large ballroom.

The domed ceiling was filled with carved angelic figures, some reaching out or praying, others dancing or flying, and strange lettering from ancient alphabets and other mysterious-looking patterns and designs. Glittery paper rained down from the ceiling but seemed to evaporate before it reached anybody’s head, and long black sheets hung from the upper recesses of the ceiling with exotic female zombie dancers twirling on them. Maybe this was where acrobats came after they died.

There were other entrances at different points around the open room. Red and blue lights shone from within them, giving the impression that sinful happenings were going on in the tunnels. A bar ran along the left side of the room where a few rotting Lesser Souls mingled. On the other side was a small dance floor where one decrepit looking couple clung to each other, swaying to slow-beat music from the roaring twenties.

In the very back, Jared made out a throne of some sort. He squinted trying to make out the details of the one sitting on it, but the lighting was too dim. Jared presumed this was the Master.

“Let’s get you something to drink. Then I want to show you something,” Mr. Zombie said, motioning to the bar.

Jared shrugged and followed. He found himself smiling, enjoying the style of music.

“Liver juice,” Mr. Zombie told the overweight bartender, who wore a bloodied apron. “Fish.”

The bartender grunted, reached behind the bar and brought out a ceramic, dinner plate. He then proceeded to open a barrel and take out a big, dark red, mass of a meaty tissue. He slapped it on the plate.

Mr. Zombie tossed a coin on the bar, but before the bartender could pick it up, Mr. Zombie said, “Could you get a message to the Master?”

The bartender nodded once and leaned forward to listen.

“Ask him if he needs an ark? Because I Noah guy!”

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “Really.”

“Just get him the message, okay? Thank you.”

Shaking his head, the bartender scooped up the coin with one fast motion, bit into it, and walked off chewing.

“What was that about?” Jared asked.

“Ah, nothing important. You want some?” Mr. Zombie asked, taking the liver from his plate and holding it out for Jared to take.

“I . . . think I’m good, thank you.”

Mr. Zombie shoveled the liver into his mouth, and attempted to speak through it. “Suit yourself.”

Jared turned around and propped his shoulders on the bar behind him. He leaned back comfortably and took in the sight. “This is like the ghost, zombie version of the Star Wars cantina.”

“You know, you’re taking this rather well. A lot better than most people actually.”

“I’m going to be out of here soon, so why not make the most of it, you know?”

Mr. Zombie raised an eyebrow. “Out of here soon?”

“Yeah. See, my best friend, Sebastian? He’s like the Grim Reaper or something? Tall guy in a thick black robe? Either way, it’s his fault I’m here. I’m just waiting for him to come get me. Should be anytime now.”

“I see.”

An attractive Soul shifted her eyes toward Jared. She resembled a formal undertaker with a wide-brimmed black hat, suit and skirt, dress shirt, and black and grey striped tie. She tipped her hat and offered him an enchanting smile.

“I wouldn’t do it, man,” Mr. Zombie said, his voice low.

“Huh?” asked Jared.

“She’s a Phantom, one rank under Shade. That caste of Souls are the spell casters of the bunch. Basically, she could rock you with only a thought.”

“Casters? Like magic spells and stuff?”

“Yup. Usually the most powerful of the bunch are chosen for Seal Witches. Now, you want to talk about real power
—”

One of the Souls dressed in rags approached Mr. Zombie and interrupted him by speaking in his ear. Jared wondered which caste this Soul belonged to. It had a burlap stack on its head with a small topknot. Mr. Zombie seemed delighted as he smiled continuously and nodded his head in rapid succession.

After a minute, the Soul in rags walked away and Mr. Zombie stepped to Jared. “We have our audience with the Master. He would like to see you now.”

Jared shrugged his shoulders. “Lead the way.”

“Actually, it’s just you. He only does one on ones. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Just make your way past that door,” Mr. Zombie said, pointing.

Jared strolled toward the door as Mr. Zombie stepped back into the shadows, but before he disappeared into the darkness Jared saw something in his friend he hadn’t seen before. Just before Mr. Zombie disappeared, Jared thought he caught a glimpse of familiar, glowing, violet-colored eyes.

Tuesday, 11:52 pm (Purgatorium)

Sebastian took in his surroundings. Somehow, he was back in Purgatorium, in what was once Baltimore’s downtown. A concrete graveyard of abandoned skyscrapers lined the deadened streets. The wind whistled and echoed throughout the ruins. Foul-smelling air mingled with the low-lying haze over the cracked and broken sidewalks. His black robes billowed out around him, moving with the dust. He was the Reaper once again. He scanned the area, but Sara was nowhere to be found.

“Sara?” he called out, calmly at first, but his heart pulsed loudly in his temples.

The layers of his robes flowed, wafting around him with life of their own. His hood drooped low, covering his eyes. Inside the hood, only darkness, yet he could see all. The robes seemed to have wrapped themselves around him, protecting him from something. But from what? Shivers shot up his spine like lightning bolts.

“Sara?” he called again, panic rising in his throat. He felt like he’d been punched in the chest. This didn’t make sense. They’d just been at the local diner.

“How did I end up here?” he said aloud. “And where is Sara?”

The Elder did not reply.

Cautiously, he walked forward, continuing to inspect his surroundings. Everything was in ruins. Street lamps and electric poles were bent and broken, gaping cracks dotted the streets, the skeletons of overturned cars shone like ghosts in the moonlight. With the structural damage these buildings had taken, it was amazing some of them were still standing. At the intersection, a stoplight blinked red over and over again.

The Vue Harbor East high-rise hotel, one of the tallest buildings in Baltimore, rose up in front of him as he turned a corner. Directly in the center of the hotel was a large, jagged hole, making the building appear like a tall, rectangular donut. Sparks of electricity shimmered to life in the hole only to fade away seconds later. The hotel defied all the laws of physics by still standing, and yet, it was.

Sebastian continued on, his robes rippling in the wind. Even though he physically didn’t have the Book, he knew the Elder was here. “Elder. Get me a lock on Sara. Now. Track her and give me her location.”

Now you are sounding like your old self. One moment.

Something stirred. To his left, a small group of homeless people lay next to a lit metal barrel. Many of them were covered up with broken cardboard boxes.

One budged, making a guttural groaning noise, wet and phlegmy. Slowly, the homeless man uncovered himself to reveal a half decayed zombie.

“
Uh-oh,” the Reaper said.

This was bad. Not only was Sara probably wandering around lost, there were zombies about too? Massive alarms went off in his head. She was in danger.

“Any luck locating her?”

The Elder remained silent.

“We need to find her,” he said quietly. “And how did we get into Purgatorium?”

I don’t know. I did not do this.

“I did,” called a familiar female voice.

It came from a window display to his left.

If this department store had been in the Living World, it would have been condemned and then demolished. The front window of the display was broken and glass littered the sidewalk. Small shards of glass, like shark’s teeth, remained within the sills. Behind the broken window stood three half destroyed, creepy child mannequins. Two of them were almost completely demolished. The middle mannequin, for the most part intact, had only small cracks on her, and her face was bleached almost white. Her eyes, however, were pure white lights.

It finally hit him why her voice sounded so familiar. It was the girl made of water, the one that had come to him in his bathroom sink.

“Water girl?” questioned the Reaper.

“Ariel,” the child mannequin corrected.

“You’re able to relocate my blink? That’s possible?”

“Yes, I can.”

“But, why?”

“So we could talk. Sebastian it’s only been three days since you have awakened and you’re already in deep trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sebastian, remember that conversation we had about not breaking the rules?” Ariel asked sternly.

He didn’t answer.

“They are coming for her,” Ariel said.

Flashes of lightning ripped through the sky, clouds swirled around a single point high in the atmosphere. Sebastian stared at the disturbance with wide eyes. More clouds were drawn in from miles around, forming a massive funnel, like an upside down volcano, its gaping maw hovering miles above the earth.

“Who’s coming for Sara? What do they want with her?” Sebastian asked.

The volcano erupted, spewing forth rays of blinding white light. Deafening blasts of thunder emanating from within the vortex assaulted Sebastian’s ear drums.

“
Them,
” Ariel said, her voice intense as a pulsating miniature lemon-yellow star dropped from the volcano’s mouth. “Raphael.”

Trailing closely behind it was another star, this one a rich orange. “Gabriel.”

And then a much larger star, crimson and white, appeared, lightning crackling all around it.

“And,” Ariel continued, her voice dropping, becoming more serious, somber, “Michael.”

The trio of falling stars descended, disappearing from view behind a row of half-demolished buildings.

The light in the mannequin’s eyes dimmed.

“Go now,” she said, her voice growing softer, less substantial. “Be careful.”