Dead Streets (30 page)

  I broke in. "Men? You mean there was more than one?"

  "That's right. There were two. They attacked from behind. One put a cloth bag over your head while the other used some kind of garrote to slice through your neck. It wasn't an ordinary garrote, either, but some kind of hi-tech device that cut through both flesh and bone as if they were water."

  I'd already guessed as much about the nature of the garrote, but up to that point I'd been assuming there'd only been one attacker. But now that I thought back on it the attack had occurred swiftly – too swiftly for one man to do the job himself. And when I went back over the sounds I'd heard then I realized that while in the confusion at the time I assumed the noises had been made by one assailant, in fact, the sounds had come from different directions and they'd overlapped. I had been attacked by two men and the evidence had been there all along. I just hadn't recognized it for what it was.

  I asked David a few more questions about my attackers but his raven had been some distance away when it recorded the incident and he couldn't give me anymore details about the men other than they were both humanoid and wearing black coats. He couldn't even make a guess as to their exact species.

  "Thanks for the info, David. It's a big help."

  "No problem." David promised to continue downloading video and that he'd call me again if he found any footage of my body entering or leaving the Reliquary. I ended the call, tucked Shrike's vox back into my coat pocket and rejoined Devona and Orlock who'd been waiting patiently for me. Devona gave me a questioning look when I returned and I gave my head a slight shake to let her know I'd tell her about the call later. She nodded and we continued following Orlock through his vast collection.

  After a few more minutes, I said, "Thanks for the tour and the history lesson but as you might imagine I'm more than a bit anxious to get on with clearing my name. Can you identify Edrigu's flute for us?"

  Orlock stopped walking and Devona and I stopped too. We stood in an open area next to a display of a large metal framework holding a dozen amputated arms and legs, all human, all connected by thick copper cables to an old-fashioned handcrank generator resting on the floor. The flesh of the limbs was a mottled greenish-gray and their look was a familiar one. I knew why a moment later when I read the plaque identifying the display as one of Dr. Frankenstein's earliest experiments in reanimation technology. It didn't take a genius to figure out how the device worked. You turned the crank, activated the generator, and the resulting electric current caused the arms and legs to move. I imagined it would be great fun at parties.

  "Of course I can," he said. "The flute was part of my original collection. Its name is Osseal and it was carved from a bone taken from the first true human to walk the Earth. When played properly it has the power to command the dead."

  The news stunned me. It's bad enough that the Darklords have that kind of power, but at least Father Dis holds them in check. But for some unknown person to possess the ability to command the dead… command
me
, for as a zombie I belonged to the ranks of the dead, was seriously disturbing.

  "I wonder what the thief – whoever it is – wants with such an object," Devona said.

  "There's a lot of dead folk of one sort or another in the city," I answered. "An object like Osseal would give its user a tremendous amount of power."

  "Yes, but for what purpose? Someone went to a hell of a lot of trouble to obtain Osseal. That means whoever stole it wanted it pretty badly."

  I shrugged. "For some people the acquisition of power is an end in itself. Look at your father…" I almost added
and Orlock.

  "Maybe," Devona said. "Or maybe whoever it was wants to raise their own personal army."

  The thought was a chilling one.

  "I can see why Edrigu wore Osseal around his neck," I said. "An object of that kind of power–" I broke off when I felt Devona's mind touch mine.

  
Something's wrong here, Matt. Orlock didn't have to bring
us down here to tell us about Osseal. He could've told us back
in his office.

  Before I could reply, Orlock said, "You needn't bother trying to communicate telepathically. I can hear you as clearly as if you were speaking aloud."

  I turned toward the vampire, intending to demand that he explain what was going on, but then I saw where we'd stopped. Devona and I were standing in a thin, almost invisible circle etched into the marble floor. Orlock, not surprisingly, was standing outside the circle. Before Devona and I could react Orlock raised a hand and a clear dome like dozens of others we'd seen since entering the chamber sprung into existence around us. I started to reach for my .45, intending to see if the inside of the dome was bulletproof, but I found myself unable to move. I tried to look at Devona to see if she was similarly affected, but I couldn't even turn my head toward her. Instead, I reached out to her mentally.

  Devona?

  
I can't move either, Matt. We're caught in some kind of sta
sis field. I don't know if it's magical or technological, but in
either case my psychic powers have no effect on it.

  The Loa necklace that Papa Chatha had made to protect me from tracking spells blocked all magic. So that meant Orlock's stasis dome was technological in origin. That, or it was magic of such a high order that the necklace couldn't nullify it – which, considering Orlock's vast age, experience and knowledge, was quite possible. Whatever the case, the stasis field worked and we were trapped.

  Orlock spoke then, and though he was on the other side of the dome, we could hear him just fine.

  "I apologize for this, but I hope you'll understand. You're a most unique specimen, Matthew. The only intelligent selfwilled zombie who's ever existed. And now, through no fault of your own, your existence has become endangered. Assuming you aren't destroyed in the process of being recaptured by the Adjudicators, it's doubtful you will survive a second term of incarceration in Tenebrus. And let's be realistic. The odds of you being able to discover who stole Osseal and framed you for the theft before you are captured are exceedingly slim. So you see, I'm really doing you a favor by preserving you here. And as for Devona…" He shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't want you to get lonely. And don't worry. You'll find that time within my domes passes pleasantly enough. I've seen to that."

  He smiled and started to turn to leave, but then he paused. "You know, it is rather ironic that you're now part of my collection. After all, thanks to you, Overkill wasn't able to obtain Scream Queen's voice for me. But you and Devona make more than fitting replacements for it. Scream Queen has a truly remarkable voice – she has both banshee and siren blood in her ancestry, you know. But the way she uses her gift…" He shuddered. "If I don't manage to preserve her voice soon, she'll ruin it beyond repair. Ah well, That's no longer any concern of yours now, is it? Perhaps I'll hire Overkill to make another attempt to capture the voice. With the both of you out of action perhaps she'll succeed this time. Farewell, and I hope you enjoy your stay."

  Orlock turned away then and departed. He was soon out of my view, and since I couldn't move my head to track him, I could only listen to his footsteps as they faded away. A bit later the chamber lights went out and I knew Orlock had returned to his bookstore and might well be on the vox to Overkill at that very moment.

  Inside I was raging with fury at being trapped like this, but frozen as I was, there was damn all I could do about it. I reached out telepathically to Devona once more.

  Still there?

  
Sorry I didn't take your warning about the possibility of
this being a trap more seriously.

  Don't worry about it. There was no way either of us could've anticipated this.

  I might've been frozen and surrounded by darkness but Devona's mental presence was a comfort to me and I was grateful for it. Orlock's insane, you know.

  
No argument there. The longer Bloodborn live the more un
stable their minds become if they aren't careful.

  I thought about Devona's father and I couldn't disagree with her assessment.

  So what now? I asked. Since your psychic powers have no effect on the stasis field, what do we do? Stand around frozen and wait for someone to rescue us?

  
I'm afraid we'll have a long wait ahead of us,
Devona thought.
No one knows we're here, except David, and he has
no reason to suspect Orlock has captured us. And even if he
did, he has no way to get us out.

  He might get words to some of our friends and they might come for us. It was admittedly a thin hope, but right then it was all I had.

  
Maybe
, Devona thought back, though from the tone of her mental voice, she didn't think much of her chances.

  Speaking of David reminded me of his call and I filled Devona in on our conversation. We "talked" about the revelation that I'd been attacked by two men instead of one, but we came to no conclusion about it.

  
At least we won't starve,
Devona thought
. Stasis fields put
all biological functions on hold, so I'll have no need for food
and you won't be in any danger of rotting, either. We'll re
main preserved just as we are…

  Forever, I finished. I'm sorry you're trapped too. Orlock wanted to preserve me. He just stuck you in here to keep me company. Like I'm a goldfish in a bowl whose owner tossed in another fish to keep the first from getting lonely.

  
If I'm here with you, then I'm exactly where I want to be,
she thought.
I love you.

  I love you, too. But if it's all the same to you, I'm going to keep trying to think of a way out of here.

  There was a hint of amusement to her thoughtvoice.
I'll try not to take it personally.

  What do you think Orlock meant there at the end when he said that he made sure time inside the domes passes pleasantly enough?

  
I don't know, but it hasn't been a barrel of laughs so far.

  No kidding. Maybe it was just another sign of Orlock's insanity. I–

  A strange feeling came over me then, a dizzy, plummeting sensation as if my body was falling and spinning wildly out of control. I tried mentally calling for Devona but I received no answer. Eventually the sensation of vertigo began to ease and my eyes were filled with light and the sound of voices yelling came to my ears.

  "Daddy, Daddy!'

 

 

 
I turned off the lawnmower and ran the back of my hand across my forehead to wipe away sweat, though all I managed to do was smear it around. God, it was hot out today.

  I turned toward the pair of children running toward me across the half mown lawn, one boy, one girl, both eleven, both blond-haired like their mother. They came up to me in a flurry of child energy, skin tanned from being outside all summer, their hair bleached almost white from all the sun they'd gotten. They both wore T-shirts and shorts and both were barefoot. I always had a hell of a time getting them to wear shoes when it was warm out, and my first thought was that one of them had stepped on something sharp, a nail or a piece of broken glass. But the guilty expressions on their faces told me neither was injured and I relaxed a bit.

  "What's up, kiddos?" I asked. My lower back gave a twinge and I winced. Devona had been after me to get a riding mower for a while now, but I insisted on using a push mower for the exercise. But this season my back had been putting in its vote for a riding mower too and I was seriously considering breaking down and getting one. After all, I wasn't getting any younger.

  "It's not our fault!" Lily said.

  "You mean it's not
my
fault," Toby said, giving his sister a sideways glance.

  Lily shot him a dark look that accused him of betraying her before turning her attention back to me. "Not
our
fault," she insisted.

  I sighed. You know how twins are supposed to be inseparably close? Maybe that was true for identical twins, but for fraternal ones – at least for my twins – that wasn't always the case. Maybe they didn't fight anymore than other siblings, but sometimes it sure seemed like it.

  "What happened? And don't both of you talk at the same time. Lily first."

  Toby pursed his lips in irritation. "Why does she get to go first?"

  Because she doesn't let her emotions get the better of her, I thought. Out loud I said, "We're going in alphabetical order."

  Lily gave her brother a triumphant smirk before launching into her story.

  "We were playing catch in the backyard near Mom's garden…" she began.

  I already didn't like the sound of this.

  "… when Toby threw the baseball too hard–"

  "I did not!" Toby's hands curled into fists and his cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

  "… and it flew right by me. I tried to catch it, Daddy, really I did!" She lowered her gaze. "But I missed."

  "What happened?" I had a basic idea by that point, but I wanted them to tell me on their own.

  Lily didn't answer and Toby looked at her. When he saw how upset she was, the anger drained out of him. he sighed – sounding too much like me – and said, "You know the Buddha statue Mom has in the garden?"

  "Yes…"

  "The ball hit the statue pretty hard –" he glanced at Lily but she was still looking at the ground – "and, well, the head got knocked off."

  I imagined Buddha's decapitated head lying on the ground amidst Devona's petunias and sunflowers. Something about the image of a headless body struck a strange chord in me, but I didn't know why. I decided to put it out of my mind and I laid a hand on each of my children's shoulders and gave them what I hoped was a reassuring squeeze.