Author's Note: I got this idea after reading The Serpent's Shadow and going to eat frozen yogurt. I've tried something new with this fic that I don't think anybody else has done yet: having other people (not just Sadie and Carter) narrate.
The Rise of the Dead
A Kane Chronicles fanfic
Chapter One: We Discover Somebody Has Made A Mistake
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Hello. Sadie here. Yes, the one who saved the world and all that. Not important, unless you picked up this audio recording to do a research project on me, in which case the first three would be more helpful. Although I am very touched that you would actually pick me for a report subject. Truthfully, I have a very exciting life.
Carter says to stuff a sock in it and get to the point. [Yes, Carter, alright, I'm getting there. Be patient.] So. In short, the world is in trouble again. And its mostly our fault. Again. But we can't take the entire blame. It's also partly Anubis' fault. Yes, the god of funerals. Carter says he had nothing to do with it, that he was an innocent bystander brutally dragged into this.
[Yes dear brother, exactly like you were an innocent bystander in the Battle of the Red Pyramid.]
He says he was busy fighting. Exactly, Carter. He was the reason the Eiffel Tower is now a little crooked. Well, more than a little crooked, but less crooked than the Leaning Tower of Pizza. Carter says it's called the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
[Thank you, dear brother, for that absolutely useless piece of information.]
Wondering what the heck I'm talking about? Let me explain. Firstly, if your local Pinkberry has gone out of business, that was my fault. Sorry. Next, if all of the buildings next to it are also decimated, that was Zia's fault. I will not apologize for her. But in my defense, I didn't start it. Lastly, the point of this recording. If I recall correctly, it all started with the ice-cream shop incident...
It was late summer, nearly autumn, so there were some leaves that crunched nicely underfoot, but not so many that you had to wade through them to get anywhere. It was hot, unusually so, and I had persuaded Carter to take everyone out for ice cream. Looking back, if I had listened to Zia and bought ice cream and brought it home, none of this would have happened. Well, it would have, but it wouldn't have happened on Amos's birthday.
We trooped through the doors of Pinkberry, which I later learned were magically protected with Divine Words inscribed in the walls around them. I looked around, still impressed by the size of the place. Maybe a twentieth of the size of the Hall of Ages, but not too bad. Along one wall was an entire self-serve bar of sugary cereals, chocolate, fresh fruit, and cookie bits. Along the other wall was those tall spinny chairs that are like four feet off the ground and usually face the front sidewalk. The third wall was the counter and a little hallway that was labeled 'Restroom', with one of those cute stick figure families on the circular blue sign below it. The fourth wall had a row of sofas and the door we had just come in. The door clanked ominously shut behind us, announcing our arrival with a tinkle of the irritatingly annoying bell on the handle. As if the counter people couldn't see us.
As soon as they oriented themselves in the room, the ankle-biters rushed straight to the DIY bar. I followed. 'Hello! Welcome to Pinkberry!' cried the staff in overly cheery voices. Let me warn you now, they were not nearly quite so happy when we finally made it to the counter. To be precise, they were mad. Not the point.
We probably held up the line for half an hour. Maybe more. My sense of time is bad at the best of times and worse when trying to keep seven toddlers from charging through a DIY bar, scattering frozen yogurt everywhere. One thing I had time to notice (in the split second that nobody dropped yogurt on their head, their foot, or any part of anybody else) was that the flavors everyone got matched their personalities.
Zia got butter pecan. Strange and kind of exotic, but so is Zia. Carter, being the boring kind of person he is, got vanilla. I got strawberry-mango-salted-caramel. Hey, a girl has to stay creative. Julian got orange sorbet, Walt got chocolate, Chloe got mint chocolate chip and Khufu got pistachio. I was doubtful that we would find any Khufu-friendly flavors here, but I guess Pinkberry has everything.
Honestly, I can't say what Khufu looked like to the mortals. Maybe he looked like a little kid in a Laker's jersey, or maybe people were used to seeing baboons in yogurt shops, because nobody looked at him funny. Not even one. Oh, except the creepy counter guy in all white with the sunglasses. More on that later.
When we got the the checkout counter, the staff, usually very bubbly, were giving us the evil eye. Mostly me. I got the feeling that they wanted to strangle me but didn't want to set a bad example for the little kindergarteners running around with absurdly sharp crayons. Ah. The thoughtful sincerity of people these days.
Carter had his wallet, of course, and as he paid, the guy behind the counter smiled cruelly. He looked eerily familiar. Normally, I am not a jittery person, as you probably know, but this guy was giving me the creeps. For starters, he wasn't giving any of us the evil eye, but instead he was smiling at us in a completely non-friendly way. And of course, with our kind of luck, the guy that looked like the evil ice cream man turned out to really be the evil ice cream man. Lovely, isn't it?
That was when Walt confessed that Anubis (him) had somehow managed to free all of the dead, dating back to the start of the world.
In a nutshell, we completely ruined Amos's birthday.
Author's Note: Please review. Over twenty people have read this fic, but none of them have reviewed! To all you people who just read this fic, think I'm annoying, and are about to leave this page: You just spent five minutes reading this, surely you can spend a further thirty seconds reviewing it.
How's this: Seven of you review, and I will post the next chapter. Fair?
So what are you waiting for? Click that little blue button!
-Tolemac