My Friends Are Dead People (22 page)

“
We can’t be back
already,” I exclaimed.

But we were back, dismounting our welgos in
the same mosaic alley we had walked through to get to the halloween
town. All the welgos backed into the wall immediately, spooked by
something in the street, except for Duma, who was at Jacoby’s side,
frozen in a combative stance.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

A DISTURBING
SCENE

Jacoby glanced up and down the street and
then dispatched Slinky to Ray’s house. He came back with my welgo,
while Dorian vanished, leaving behind a pulsing dot.

“
Can . . . you get Henry?”
Jacoby asked Lin. There was a worried note in his voice. He almost
stuttered, which wasn’t like him at all. Everyone knew something
awful had happened.

Lin slid off Slick, disappearing before he
touched the ground, and re-appearing with Franky a few seconds
later.

“
Henry, you still know
where Murlie lives?” said Jacoby.

Franky nodded.

“
I need you to go with Lin
to Ray’s and ask him if he heard anything. Meet us back at
Murlie’s. Lin, you got that?”

And then something happened that scared us
more than the mysterious orders and grim anticipation of bad news.
A tear fell across Jacoby’s cheek, maybe the first one in his life.
As the tear stuck to the end of his jaw and finally detached, a
second one streaked down his other cheek, leaving behind a trail,
like a clear scar.

Lin took Franky’s hand and psyclined. Jacoby
looked to the welgos and gave a short wave. They all seemed to
understand what he meant and took off. However, Duma remained at
Jacoby’s side.

A loud racket was heard down the street over
the buildings, followed by a faint scream. “Don’t hurt me!” a
female voice pleaded. “I didn’t do it!”

Katie and I hurried over to see what was
happening–

“
No!” snapped Jacoby,
blocking the end of the alley.

“
Why?” I said. “What
happened?”

Jacoby walked away from the street. I was
tempted to look down the street, but Katie and I both held back and
followed him to the next street over. His brisk pace was hard to
keep up with. He stopped at the next alleyway and waited for us to
catch up, then pushed us past it before we had time to look through
it.

“
Don’t we turn here–” I
said, choosing not to finish because we had to cross the street
anyway to get to Murlie’s.

We turned into a slummy alley a few blocks
down and walked toward a black female gremlin standing nervously
underneath a rickety roof. She wore bright-colored clothes and a
crooked name tag:

Welcome to Snick - Treat -
Candy

Cicil

The nervous samhain heard our shoes
splashing across the puddles and shuffled over skittishly, nearly
tripping on her long pants.

“
You came out of your
graveyard!” she murmured. “Is it because of what
happened?”

Seeing that Jacoby kept walking, about to
barge right through her, she stepped aside.

“
Jacoby?” she continued.
“What are we going to do?”

“
Cicil,” he said, stopping
right in front of her, “can you go home?”

Cicil took notice of his watery eyes. We all
stood there staring. Why weren’t we crossing the street? Murlie’s
shop was right there.

“
Are we going to cross?” I
asked at last.

The shoe shop’s door crept open, and Murlie
peeked her head out, looking both ways before coming out. She
locked the door behind her and then cast a spell on it with the
flick of a finger. She glanced down the street once more before
crossing it. She saw Jacoby’s tears right away. She waited a while
then said, “Soundrec might not make it.”

I didn’t get any of this! Jacoby had just
told us Soundrec was going to be perfectly fine by the time we got
back! Now, Murlie was saying he might not make it!

“
I tried everything I
could,” she continued. “I don’t have enough bluian tissue and skool
blood. He will die soon if he isn’t treated. We need to go to
Germany.”

I didn’t think Jacoby was listening to her,
staring blankly out into the street, as if trapped in a dreary
daydream.

“
Jacoby, we can’t stand
here. I know you want to find a safe place.”

“
Henry is here,” he said.
“He might be able to cure him.”

“
Henry? Henry
Frankenstein?”

“
Yes.”

There was a long silence as Murlie lowered
her head. “What about the murder?” she finally asked.

Jacoby turned to her and gaped wearily.

“
They will soon know what
happened,” she stated indignantly.

Katie strode by Jacoby and entered the
street. I went after her.

The street was bashed in and cracked down
the middle by something that had left a single huge meteor-like
impression. A huge gathering of witches and warlocks further down
heard us coming and psyclin-scattered in panic, revealing a
withered body being dragged away. A tall red skeletis was pulling
it easily and with little care across the cracked asphalt. Trailing
not far behind was a menala, soaked in someone else’s blood. It
wasn’t until the menala stepped into the streetlight that I saw
that it was Dorian.

Katie and I hurried after them down a
torn-up alley. The skeletis pulled the lifeless body out of the
ruins and set it on a grassy hill. As soon as the skeletis left, I
saw what had caused all the commotion.

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

HAL
’S T.C.L. CAN

Half-hidden in the tall
weeds was Kala’s crumpled-up corpse. For a good minute, I couldn’t
think at all.
It’s not true,
was the only notion spinning frantically in my
head. This couldn’t be. I just saw him hours ago. I tried moving
closer, but couldn’t. I wanted to do a lot of impossible things at
that moment. I wanted to talk to Kala and say how proud I was of
him and tell him with a little more work he could beat the tortic.
I wanted to tell him how brave he was. But what I wanted to tell
him most of all was that he did well. But I couldn’t tell him that.
He was dead. His body looked like he had been dead for more than a
day. He was already beginning to show signs of decay. I could smell
it on him. The long cuts on his arms had dried up and wrinkled, and
the bruises on his face had sunken in, giving him a wretched,
emaciated look. Strangely enough, he looked at peace, with his eyes
closed and his head tucked between his curled up legs.

“
Jesse, Kala wouldn’t have
wanted this,” said Jacoby as he passed by. “Get your crying out and
be done with it.”

And then something came over me. I felt an
unbearable rage coming from the gut of my stomach. I wasn’t sad. I
was infuriated.

“
This is your fault!” I
yelled. “You said he would be okay!
You
are a liar!
You lie about
everything!”

I continued to yell at him while he calmly
combed the bottom of the hill, looking for a clear spot. He
crouched and cupped a handful of dirt and probed it with his
thumb.

“
What are you doing?” I
snapped.

Jacoby stood up and picked up a shovel.

“
No! You
can’t!”

“
Just for now,” he
explained.

“
No! He needs a proper
burial. Psyclin him to the cemetery.”

“
We can’t psyclin a dead
body and we don’t have the time. If we leave him here, unburied,
he’ll be picked up by sarscas or hellgon werewolves.”

“
This is all your fault!”
I screamed again.

Jacoby sank the shovel into the mud and
began digging. I hated how he could ignore me without batting an
eyelash, completely focused on the task at hand. It didn’t take him
long to dig an ugly hole about five feet deep. The next time I
glanced over, Jacoby was flattening the dirt over Kala. I had never
seen someone get buried. It didn’t seem like the right thing to
do.

We all gathered around the mound of dirt and
gave our last respects. The first to leave was Jacoby. Dorian was
already waiting at the top of the hill. Katie and I were the last
ones to part with Kala. When we got to the top, everyone was
sitting in a circle: Jacoby, Dorian, Hess, Franky, Murlie, Lin, and
a skinny old samhain with dark skin, wearing a candy-cane
nightgown. They were all listening to Franky recount what he had
learned from Ray. Katie and I sat down next to Lin. The grass was
wet and pointy. I moved around a little bit before I gave my
complete attention to Franky’s report.

“
The tortics showed up
here right after you picked up Hess. They were seen by one
halloween, a nomis, named Lizzy. She took cover in a bungalow
behind her store before anything happened. She said all she could
hear were battle sounds. She was killed by a tortic’s Jical
sometime after she called Ray.”

“
Did Ray have any take on
why the tortics were here?” said Jacoby.

“
No. He did, however,
think they may know Jack’s path now. He also wanted me to mention
to you that they have been making frequent trips to Kilkenny,
Ireland. He had forgotten to tell you this before.”

“
I would like to add
something,” said the old halloween, placing a mug of bubbly liquid
into his lap. A white brand on his wrist said he was
Forlin Crosby
and
a
prospect 6
candidate. “With the samhain government being established in
the next couple of days, it’s possible a tortic could be involved
with one of the candidates running for the Black Office. That could
explain their trips to Ireland. It has been a discussion in the
Haunt House for days.”

“
Forlin,” Jacoby said
bluntly, “the tortics have no desire to be part of the government.
We have evidence of their psyclins inside the Veil of Time Museum,
the Entering Zone, and near the shores of the Fellowship. They are
gathering information on Jack. They’re planning to kill him. You
understand?”

“
Yes.” He looked
dubious.

“
Forlin, you’re going to
have to fight for presidency. No one is going to want you to win.
There’ll always be archaic candidates. Just keep working as you
have been. Is there anything you know about the tortics’ recent
undertakings outside of politics?”

He looked a little taken aback by what
Jacoby had just said. “No.”

As Jacoby moved on to the next subject, a
small parchment slipped out of Forlin’s pocket. Without giving it
much thought, I read it.

HD 2441

HAUNT HOUSE - Room Crying
Skulls

A12 Scream Road, Psyclin
A12

Kilkenny, Ireland, Region
Munster

Dear Haunt House
Staff,

On day 2395 the
wiskchickian witch tribe inhabiting southern Germany cursed and
clawed a territorial treaty containing past documents of the
location of each welchick witch residing in Britain and Spain from
2389 to 2393. With regard to this lost treaty and other contents
that I mentioned in my last letter, I assert a suspicion that a
welchick slaughter took place in 2394.

My keen interest in this
falsified wiskchickian purchase won’t be set aside. I would like
this matter to be handled with extreme caution and speed as done on
Boral’s Speed Road. If you have any further questions, we can set
up a meeting at Psyclin Dock 22.

Attached is the last page
of the treaty. I would like it returned after a Samhain Seeker
thoroughly investigates the page. Thank you for considering my
suspicions of this extremely heinous crime,

Forlin, quebellion hew,
EnT2404

Stamped over the entire proposal was a
bloody pumpkin and the repeated word “denied.” Suddenly, the name
‘Forlin’ rang a bell to me. No one was speaking at the moment so I
decided to speak up.

“
Forlin, a werewolf – I’m
not sure what kind – was supposed to tell you about something to do
with Himalaya.” I couldn’t believe I had forgotten that little
detail. I never forget things.

“
His mother contacted me,”
he responded. “He was a minical werewolf.”

“
What did she tell
you?”

“
Himalaya might be a
threat. His footprints have been found outside Antarctica.” He
slightly opened up his pocket so the fluttering letter could glide
back in. “The Haunt House will not investigate this because they’re
preoccupied at the moment. Eventually they will look into
it.”

“
But if he’s dangerous,
shouldn’t this be dealt with now?”

“
That is why I’ll look
into it just as soon as the samhain government is
clawed.”

Jacoby waited for us to finish, listening in
with interest. But we didn’t have anything else to say.

Jacoby turned to Franky and asked, “Henry,
is that all? . . . Then that’s it for now,” he said to the group as
he stood up. “We’ll talk more of this tomorrow.”

Murlie mumbled grouchily under her breath.
She must have sensed Jacoby wasn’t telling them everything.
Everyone else knew it was best to wait until next Halloween.
Jacoby, Dorian, Katie and I started our way back down the hill,
headed in the opposite direction from everyone else. I didn’t know
what to make of the meeting. I still didn’t even know who had
killed Kala. Was it the tortics? Was it Jack? And what was the
reason for the “battle sounds” that the local resident had heard?
Who was fighting who?