CONVERSATIONS WITH THE UNDEAD

Natalia spent Saturday in the Iron Bridge library, researching the writings of Sir Walter Windham.

She had written the name down after seeing it inside the visual memory linked to Von Strife’s journal. Windham was the author of some books on Von Strife’s desk.

Natalia had been hoping to find a direct link between Windham and Von Strife, but she wasn’t having much luck. Most of Windham’s writing was on the subject of time travel, which was a controversial subject at best. Then again, a man who was desperate to save his daughter might be willing to try anything to save her.

Then Natalia came across an old article in the New Victoria Chronicle.

“You had me come down here to read the obituary of some guy who died over a hundred years ago?” said Raven, who was sitting at a table with Natalia.

“Please lower your voices,” the librarian said from behind the checkout desk.

Raven rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you recognize who this is?” Natalia asked in a whisper.

“Should I?”

“He wrote the books that were in the memory you showed us, and guess where he’s buried?”

“Underneath the school?”

“You’re close,” Natalia said. “He’s buried at the cemetery behind the Cathedral of St. Peter.”

“What good does that do us? He’s kind of dead, right?”

“I was thinking,” Natalia said, “what if Von Strife visited his grave?”

“So you want me to talk to a gravestone, is that it?” Raven asked. “Are you serious?”

Natalia got Raven to agree to her plan, and within an hour, the girls exited the Zephyr at the Walpole Road platform. A light drizzle fell as the weak gas lamps fought to give meager light.

“Is New Victoria always this dreary?” Natalia asked, opening her umbrella.

“Pretty much,” Raven said. Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as they headed toward the iron gate that stood protectively around the cemetery lawns.

There was a gust of wind, followed by a low moaning sound. Both girls stopped.

“That was just my imagination, right?” Natalia asked.

“Let’s hope so,” Raven said.

Though the cemetery was closed to visitors after five o’clock in the evening, the length of chain that held the gate shut had been cut away. Natalia crouched down to find at least two distinct footprints.

“You still want to do this?” Raven asked.

Natalia swallowed and nodded.

“After you,” Raven said, holding the gate open.

As they moved down a line of crumbling vaults, Raven said, “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Rain was beading on the hood of her jacket, and her lips were blue from the cold.

She stopped at one of the crypts. The iron door leading inside was choked with weeds. Raven brushed them aside to reveal a plaque:

WALTER WINDHAM

THE MARQUIS OF TIME

D. 1880

“TEMPUS RERUM IMPERATOR”

“Is that your man?” Raven asked.

“It looks like it,” Natalia said.

Raven closed her eyes and placed her hand on the plaque. Then she frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Natalia asked.

“Von Strife hasn’t been here,” Raven said. Her head was tilted to the side as though she was confused. “But Strange was here a few weeks ago, and he went inside.”

“Obadiah Strange?”

“I know, it doesn’t make any sense,” Raven said. Then she fished out a flashlight from her backpack.

“What are you doing?” Natalia asked.

“We’re going inside.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you want to know why Strange was here?”

There were more moaning sounds, and Natalia spun around to see the silhouettes of walking corpses approaching. Their heads hung at odd angles as they dragged their legs through the mud.

The first zombie was a woman who reminded Natalia of her mother. She had long, stringy red hair that was matted to her gaunt face. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her jaw hung too low, as though someone had tried to pull it off its hinges.

Natalia stood, transfixed, as Raven pushed open the door to Windham’s crypt. She rushed inside, pulling Natalia in, and shut the door.

“What were you doing?” Raven asked. Her breathing was shallow, and her eyes were wild.

“I… I don’t know,” Natalia said as though she were waking from a dream.

Their only light came from the flashlight in Raven’s hand, but the crypt was so choked by darkness that they couldn’t see much of anything. Cobwebs hung from the low ceiling, and a fat spider scampered out of the light and back into the comfort of the shadows.

“Were those actually zombies?” Natalia asked.

“I’m not sure, but it looked like it.”

Raven had her back braced against the door as though she was expecting the zombies to try to follow them, but they didn’t.

“That’s strange,” Raven said.

“What?”

“It’s not like I’m an expert or anything, but aren’t zombies supposed to be able to smell blood?”

“I guess so,” Natalia said.

“Then why aren’t they trying to break down the door to eat our brains?”

“Wait, what are you doing?” Natalia asked as Raven opened the door a crack. She peeked out, then pulled it open wide.

“They’re gone,” Raven said before slipping back out to the cemetery grounds.

The girls could still see the zombies in the distance, but they lost sight of the walking dead when a swirl of fog crossed the path.

“What should we do?” Natalia asked.

“Run!”

The girls ran through crooked trees and rough thickets, trying to get away, but no matter where they went, they were surrounded by the eerie sound of dead people moaning. It was as though the entire cemetery had come to life.

“Natalia!” Raven shouted.

When Natalia spun around, Raven was gone.

“Raven! Where are you?”

There was no response, and Natalia had lost track of which direction they’d been heading. She spun in circles calling Raven’s name, but there was no answer. Then Natalia tripped on something. At first she thought it was an arm, but when she looked closer, she could see it was a shovel.

She took a step back but felt nothing underneath her foot. She screamed as she fell into an open grave, where she hit her head on a stone. The world went black.

When Natalia finally opened her eyes, she didn’t know where she was. It was dark and raining. Her fingers dug into the wet earth as she moaned. Natalia tried to sit up, but she slipped before sloshing in a puddle. Her clothes were caked in mud, and her head was pounding.

“It came from over here,” Natalia heard someone say through the haze of semiconsciousness. There was a moment when she wasn’t sure if she was in a dream.

“You’re sure?” a second voice asked.

Natalia realized that the nightmare was real. She’d fallen into an open grave and hit her head. Natalia raised her hand to her forehead, and when she pulled it away there was a spot of blood thinned by rain.

“Yeah, I heard someone scream,” the first voice said as Natalia struggled to stand. Her feet sank in the sloshing mud, and she could taste her own blood as it fell on her lips.

“I don’t see anyone.”

The voices were close. Natalia was worried she might be spotted. She figured that whatever had happened to Raven was probably the speakers’ doing, yet the voices were familiar. Natalia couldn’t place them, though.

“I’m telling you, someone is in here. Do you think it’s the Agents of Justice?” one of the voices said.

“I doubt it. Those nitwits have no idea what we’re up to. Besides, they’re supposed to be down at the pier in Bludgeon Town tonight. We need to hurry if we’re going to catch them.”

Natalia’s eyes lit up. That was Smoke—she was sure of it. Her heart started pounding. If they were after the Agents of Justice, that meant Ernie was in trouble. Natalia fought to climb out of the grave, but the walls were too slick, and she slipped back down into the mud.

“How long have you been able to do this?” she heard Smoke say.

“What?” the other voice answered.

“Animate dead people.”

The other boy laughed. “Why? Are you scared or something?”

“I don’t get scared,” Smoke said. “Besides, don’t forget that you’re just a diversion to keep the THOR agents busy.”

“What does that make you?”

“Your babysitter,” Smoke said. “He sent me to make sure you don’t screw up.”

The voices trailed off, and so did the moaning from the zombies. Though her head was starting to clear, Natalia still felt groggy. At least, she thought, there weren’t any bodies in the grave with her.

“Natalia?” Raven’s voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper.

“Raven?”

“Where are you?” Raven’s voice was closer that time.

“I fell into a grave,” Natalia said. It wasn’t long before she saw Raven’s face looking down at her.

“Nice hiding spot.” Raven extended her hand, which Natalia grabbed, and she climbed out of the grave. Then she wrapped her arms around Raven’s neck and held her tight. “Thank you,” she repeated several times.

Raven gently pushed her away as a bolt of lightning shot through the sky. “What happened to you?” she asked. “If I didn’t know better, I would have thought you were one of the zombies. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Natalia said. “I was worried that something happened to you.”

“Yeah, well, I tripped on a tree root.”

Natalia looked down to see that Raven’s pants were ripped at the knees. “I didn’t mean to leave you.”

“I know,” Raven said before looking over her shoulder at a zombie walking toward the horizon. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“Did you see Smoke?” Natalia asked.

“Here?”

“I heard two people talking, and I’m positive he was one of them,” Natalia said. “They mentioned Von Strife… and that the zombies are just diversions.”

“From what?”

“I’m not sure, but they’re heading down to the pier to look for Ernie.”