dead back to life.”
“How do you know it’s this guy, Reven, that’s doing it?”
“Unlike magic, Necromancy is a more unique, individual craft. While certain aspects of it are common, holding to the tenets of the art as defined by Zarek Ashu, the first true necromancer, it has evolved as an individual pursuit. Much of the literature has been lost or destroyed over the years, forcing the would-be necromancers to adapt their methods. Each has their own way of tapping into the power to raise the dead, and as such, their styles have become calling cards, of a sort.” He pointed to the phone. “The symbols you found match those of Reven. It’s him, or perhaps an apprentice of his.”
“I’ve never heard of the guy. Is he powerful?”
Rahim shook his head, stepping in to answer, “Not in the traditional sense. Of course, anyone who can raise the dead is a threat, but he’s certainly not on Asmoday or Gabriel’s level, or even that of your cousin, Scarlett.”
I shrugged, noting his intent. You see, Scarlett is an angel, and I’m not talking about her personality. To be honest, she can be a bit of a bitch sometimes. But anyway, I’m talking a full-blown, holy angel that lives in Heaven. While not a world-beater, she has her share of magic.
She helped us thwart Asmoday and his plans for world destruction, but that whole adventure kinda messed her up a bit, not that she was all that stable to begin with. She never understood God’s disappearance, not that any of us truly did, nor could she understand the chaos that cropped up afterward. Her worldview had been blown out of the water when the Angelic Choir split into factions and began to fight one another. The angels always were a family, their only falling out being my uncle and his followers. It broke her heart to witness the unexpected dissension that tore her home apart.
Her heart took another hit when she learned Gabriel, God’s archangel, had joined forces with Asmoday. It shattered completely when Gabriel captured her and handed her over to the demon lieutenant. After Baalth ended Asmoday’s coup, Scarlett returned to Heaven in a fury, determined to help restore peace. I hadn’t seen her since.
“So, what’s our concern here?” Though his little zombies had proven annoying, I couldn’t picture this Reven guy as much of a threat. Fun on Halloween, sure, but he was clearly not a mega-villain.
“Mostly that we don’t know what he has in mind. He’s raising zombies to kill and kidnap the living, and while that’s certainly enough to warrant our attention, there has to be more to it.” Rahim sighed. Like Katon and I, he didn’t look up to dealing with another crisis.
“Reven’s too old to be your assassin. Did you find any signs of him at the cemetery?” Abraham asked.
“No, but I wasn’t really looking. He could have been there. The zombies did get up and come after us, but the place looked like temporary storage. There wasn’t any furniture or belongings, or anything that would indicate someone alive was staying there.”
“Were the zombies slow, plodding?” Abraham’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses.
“They were faster than I would have liked,” I pointed out my wounded leg. “But I don’t recall them setting any land speed records.”
“Then Reven was probably not among them.”
I stared at Abe. He must have seen I had no clue what he was talking about.
“Were Reven nearby, his zombies would siphon more energy from their master, making them quicker, more lifelike. It is an innate part of the energy transfer, alluding to his presence.”
“Good to know. That being the case, he probably wasn’t there.” Neither seemed all that surprised. “There were, however, zombies missing,” I added.
Their eyes widened. “What do you mean by missing?”
“Somewhere in the neighborhood of two hundred bodies have disappeared from Rest Land in the last week, or so.” I kept the source of my information to myself. “I estimated there were around seventy in the hole. Now add in the ones I killed at the strip club and we’re only looking at about a hundred accounted for. Where are the rest of them?”
Abraham wrung his hands, the knuckles turning white. “We’ve had reports from other cemeteries that they, too, are missing bodies. All told, we’re looking at another two to three hundred.”
I whistled. “So we’ve got four hundred zombies, give or take, still running amok?” There was some major undead mischief afoot.
“Something in that range, yes.” Abraham nodded. “We need to find Reven and ascertain what he is up to.”
Captain Obvious to the rescue. I wondered if he needed a cape. “If bodies are missing from all sides of town, we need to get some eyes on the cemeteries, maybe even the morgue.”
“Already done,” Rahim told me. “Though I’m not sure it’ll do us any good. Reven would have to be pretty stupid to make it so easy, especially now that he knows someone is looking.”
Having spent five hundred years mingling with humanity, I couldn’t rule the possibility out. Magic didn’t make people smarter. “What about the mausoleum chamber?”
“We’ll send Katon to examine it. Maybe he can find a clue there.”
“And me?”
“Do what you do best, Frank.” Rahim smiled, his eyes teasing.
“There are laws against that now.”
Abraham sighed, choosing not to reply, and returned his attention to his computer. Rahim only chuckled. I got up, said my goodbyes, and headed out the door.
Rahim always said I stumbled my way through life, getting by on dumb luck and brass balls. The sad part was he was probably right. That being the case, I figured why fight it. Trouble would find me when it was good and ready.
Until it did, I was gonna have a beer.
Chapter Seven
A couple of beers and a sip of my uncle’s blood later, the night having crept past the witching hour, I wandered down to Fiesta Street. Relegated to the butt-end of Old Town, the street was home to the seediest, the most questionably legal, and by far the most immoral of night-life establishments to be found above ground. If you were looking for a good time that truly defined the word taboo, this was the place to be. I came here often.
Pun intended.
Just off the desert, like the majority of the fun parts of Old Town, this was as good a place as any to expect zombie trouble. While DRAC watched the cemeteries, I figured I’d try another angle. With Reven already claiming upwards of four hundred zombies, it didn’t make any sense to me that he’d bother to raise any more. Unless he was planning on taking over the world with an army of slow-moving corpses, he had to have enough for his plans, whatever they may be. Though it didn’t hurt to keep an eye out, I couldn’t picture him puttering around the graveyards waiting to be caught. That’s the first place anyone looks when they’re trying to find a necromancer. So, thinking along those lines, I decided to go fishing where the most appetizing bait could be found.
On any given night, Fiesta Street was ripe for the plucking. Scores of horny partiers wandered drunkenly, splitting their time and crumpled money between the raunchy bars, strip clubs, and porn stores. Always busy, yet saddled with a clientele as disposable as paper plates, the street might as well have had a target painted on it.
Dressed way down in a stained sweatshirt and ratty jeans, I weaved my way down the cracked and bulging sidewalk, my eyes taking it all in from under the shadows of my hood. After dodging an affectionate drunk and sloughing off an insistent panhandler who felt the world owed him something, I slipped into a dark alley beside one of the furthermost buildings. After checking to be sure I was alone, I shimmied up the wobbly fire escape, trying my best to ignore its tortured squeaks, which threatened to dump me on my ass, and made my way to the roof. Up top, I headed for the dilapidated stairwell hut. As I neared it, I spotted a dark shape lurking in the shadows. I drew my gun and let my senses loose. I wanted to know what I was up against. A second later I reined them in, shoving my gun back into its holster.
