2005
GRAVEYARD SHIFT
CHAPTER 25 -The Exhumation-
"Pickled and jammed in a box, then stacked in piles and stuffed...like olives."—Lina, about dead remains
Xel was running down his mental list of things to do. He had done everything possible to assure them of success. Nothing could be left to chance, and yet there were so many ways things could fail, so many "unpredictables." He wasn't expecting Lina to caper around behind him and steal the van keys, for one.
"Where are we going?" Lina asked, jingling the keys tauntingly.
"Lina, no." Xel reached for the keys, his voice low in warning.
Lina bristled. "Hey, back off! I drove a van for a job all summer, remember? I'm good at it, 'course the passengers were cold and quiet, heh, heh..." Her attempt at humor fell flat.
With a resigned shrug, he climbed into the passenger seat up front. This was no time for a fight, he knew, especially with someone who held onto their opinions as tenaciously as Lina. The others had already found seats inside. "First, we stop back at the cabin. We need to collect our equipment and rest a couple hours."
Lina snapped back sharply, "Rest? You gotta be kidding. Let's get this business done."
"Yes, I'd like that, too," he returned with an edge to his voice, "but I'd rather wait until the lab activities shut down for the night, eliminating the chance that someone might be hauling a body. I don't expect it, especially in the part of the crypt where we will be, but it's safer."
"Safer, right," she repeated sourly.
The sky was dark with a sprinkling of stars, but there was no moon to light their way, no street lights; in fact, there were no lights at all. Lina concentrated on the strange road, getting directions from Xel when needed. Both were put off by the other's irritable tone of voice. She parked in back of the cabin, hiding the van behind a hedge. Everyone climbed out and entered the cabin except Zelgadiss and Lina. She was about to follow Xel in, when Zelgadiss touched her arm.
"Come here," he beckoned, indicating that she should remain outside with him.
"Huh? What's up?"
He pulled her into the darkness. "I just wanted to talk."
His hesitancy to be open around the others made her think he had either something really important to say, or bad news. "So, talk. I've got the beginnings of a headache so make it short and to the point."
Zelgadiss nearly changed his mind, but Lina had been a good friend to him in the past and was more vulnerable then she would admit. "Lately... a few times in the last few weeks... Xel hasn't made it back to his room lately, a few times. I thought you should know. You seemed to be getting close, and I know you dropped Gourry."
Lina could tell Zelgadiss disapproved of her choice of boyfriends. "Not that it's any of your business, but Xel was with me those times. What else have you got?"
Zelgadiss was too surprised at her revelation to move on, though. "With you? He spent the night with you?"
"Yes! Keep your voice down!" she yelled, ignoring her own advice. She hated that Zelgadiss found the vulnerable spot in her heart: Xel's reputed infidelity. "What? You were worried he was going out behind my back? Thanks, but I don't need a busybody keeping tabs on me or my boyfriend. I don't stick my nose into your business."
Zelgadiss' narrowed his eyes, his shoulders tensed, and his temper flared. "No? Then what are you doing here? It was just going to be us guys, then Xel couldn't get you to stay, and so now we got all the others here, in danger and in the way."
"We're here to make sure you screw ups get out of here in one piece." Lina's temper could match her hot-headed friend's sneer for sneer, insult by insult. "Now, you done talking?"
He spun on a heel, turning back to the cabin door. "I shouldn't waste my breath." He paused, looking over his shoulder into her fiery eyes. "Be careful, Lina. You really don't know him. He's not like Gourry, who you've known for years and grew up with. Xel's got a very dark past and a questionable future. He's dangerous."
"So am I," Lina said, pushing Zel out of her way.
Her anger melted away under Xel's hungry stare as she entered the cabin. To have the exclusive attention of the older man set her heart to racing. She imagined being alone with him, his hands on her. Her imagination stripped him naked, then ripped him apart out of resentment for her need and desire for him. "What are you looking at?" she barked.
"You. Everything okay?" he asked.
Lina heard Zelgadiss enter the cabin, but kept her back to him, intent on her boyfriend. To Xel's surprise, she reached up, grabbed hunk of his sleek, dark hair, and pulled Xel down into a kiss. She nipped his bottom lip as she broke the kiss. "Yeah, Zelgadiss is just a meddling idiot."
"I see." He straightened, eyes following Zelgadiss' furtive move to the other side of the room. Xel was careful not to rub his tender scalp or lick his swelling lip and let her know she'd hurt him. "Well, everyone's laying out a sleeping bag on the floor. I suggest you do the same, and, if you'd like, you can come over here by me, while I stir up the fire. You don't have to sleep, just close your eyes for a little while." His words flowed in measured tones, keeping his tone even and placating her mood. He had no time for diversions. After the stressful interplay with his mother, Xel needed to garner his strength for the long night ahead.
"Yeah, okay." She had hoped for a little more passion in return for her bold kiss, but figured the man was getting nervous.
Meanwhile, Gourry noticed his friend's sour expression and knew that his talk with Lina hadn't gone well. When Zelgadiss passed by on his way to Sylphiel, Gourry whispered, "You tried. Some of it will soak in 'cause she's not stupid."
"She is tonight," Zelgadiss said.
"Oh..."
"What's with the meaningful 'oh'?"
"Must be that time of the month. Lina always gets, um, sorta mean then."
Zelgadiss looked across the room where he could see Xel silhouetted against the fire, helping Lina into her sleeping bag. He wondered if he should warn the man, then decided not to. "Let him discover his girlfriend's idiosyncrasies," he muttered mostly to himself.
"What was that, Zelgadiss?"
He turned to find Sylphiel's hand on the cuff of his pants. He knelt by her side, imagining her warm smile and dark eyes searching his. He knew he shouldn't let Lina get to him. Not now. Not with happiness at his fingertips. He bent over her, drawing her into a gentle kiss. "You smell good."
"Jasmine. There's room for two in my bag," she whispered.
Zelgadiss glanced furtively over his shoulder.
"No one's looking. It's too dark," she said.
He needed no further coaxing. He slipped out of his pants and shirt, and slithered into the pocket of welcoming bliss. Leave his other friends to work out their own lives for the time being, he decided.
"I hope this place warms up," Filia complained to whoever was nearest. "I don't want to freeze my butt off in here while you guys are messing around in that tomb." There was no reply, so she dropped the subject and curled up in her blanket.
Valgaav had dismissed them all from his mind and immediately escorted his young girlfriend to a private corner. His 'hanging out with the gang' days were over, he had made up his mind. He was going to buckle down, work diligently, save some bucks while Amelia finished high school, then he'd marry her and finish his degree, follow his dream. Stay out of trouble. Yeah, mostly that. "Hey, don't be nervous," he told her.
"It's cold, and I've never been on an overnight with boys present," she admitted.
"Especially me, huh?" he grinned and unzipped his sleeping bag, leaving the opening to face hers.
She nodded, blushing as she heard him remove his shirt. She felt his heat through her thin blouse as he wrapped her in his arms. His lips brushed her ear as he whispered, "Just tell me when to stop, and I will."
His hands slipped under her blouse and caressed her sides. "Take this off," he urged her. "Want to see you."
"But..." she said, gasping and pushing at his hands, "it's too dark!"
He chuckled low in his throat. "Braille, baby."
"Valgaav, I don't know..." Her voice faded off as he finished unbuttoning and pulling her arms out of the sleeves.
"I just want to hold you...keep you warm," he assured her as they cuddled closely in the dark.
"Well, I guess that would be okay." Amelia snuggled into the warmth of her boyfriend, cutting off the nagging little voice in her head telling her she was moving too fast.
Lina wanted Xel to settle down and hold her– but then again she didn't. She was annoyed that some of her other friends were settling in all cozy, while she felt pushed aside like a child. Of course, she certainly didn't want Xel hovering over her, but she didn't want to be ignored either, which was what he was doing at the moment, messing with the fire. "Aren't you lying down? It was your idea."
His head turned, but she couldn't see his face. "In a moment."
"Hurry up, then," she insisted.
"You don't need me to rest, Lina, but I need a moment or two to think, alone. Excuse me." Xel stood and moved off a ways where she couldn't detect him at all.
Lina rolled onto her stomach, hurt by his indifference, and listened to the sounds. The cabin creaked with the temperature drop. The fire popped and crackled. Sylphiel giggled, be it ever so quietly. "Cut it out and be quiet!" Lina yelled.
The next thing she knew, Xel was shaking her gently. "Time to go."
She opened her eyes, but he had disappeared before she could say anything more. Lanterns were lit and hanging from hooks around the room. Valgaav was pulling on a shirt and looking around for the weapons to remain in the cabin. One by one, the others stood and readied themselves for their next adventure.
"Valgaav's driving us to the crypt," Xel told everyone, avoiding Lina's contentious stare. Lina was silently thankful not to have to carry her heavy backpack of clothes and equipment, but she still confronted Valgaav about the driving privileges. Driving the van was her exclusive job. "Those of you are remaining here, can pack what's left and do what you wish to pass the time."
"We'll have our guns at the ready, Mr. Xelloss," Amelia said in her perkiest tone. Everyone could use a mood lift, she thought. "In case we get over-eager bandits sniffing around."
"Yes, and that, too." Xel made no attempt to correct her version of the possible 'bad guys' they might encounter in the cabin. His attention was on Lina, who was edging closer to his cousin and whispering something. He guessed the topic concerned who was to do the driving, as Lina trailed Valgaav out the door. A hint of smile teased at the corner of his mouth; Lina would get no where changing his cousin's mind.
Amelia continued to gaily point out how prepared they were. "...And if anyone gets a scrape or bruise, Sylphiel can patch them up."
Valgaav straightened his back and glared down from his full height at the petite redhead; he would not give in to her demands. "I'm driving there for two reasons. One, I'm driving back and I want to be familiar with the road. And two, I know where the 'on' switch for the roof spotlight is and am tall enough to turn it on. Now, get in and shut up. Hey, what's that you've got with you?"
Filia, Gourry, Zelgadiss, and Sylphiel climbed into the van silently avoiding the conflict. Xel met Valgaav's golden eyes with a supportive nod, and then hopped up into the front passenger seat.
"Nothing!" she snapped and squeezed past him and into the back of the van, carefully hiding a long stick.
Valgaav slammed the van door behind her, climbed up on the wheel well and stretched his arm along the van roof to the overhead light. With a flip of the switch, the roadway for about fifteen feet in front of them was awash in light. Still, even with the help of some illumination the road's condition was deplorable. "Damn, I don't want to break an axle," Valgaav grumbled to Xel in the seat beside him. "Get us stranded out here..."
"You're doing fine. There it is. Stop, but leave on the headlights until we can get past the gate and get our lanterns out." Xel put his hand on his cousin's arm before the van came to a halt. "If something happens to me," their eyes met and exchanged silent understanding, "then as a last resort, call Sherra on the walkie-talkie to make an off-island call."
"Cell phones blocked?"
"Yes, except that Sherra has access to lines out; they are required for flight plans."
"Okay, but I hope it doesn't come to that." Val saw the shrine entrance ahead, slowed the van, and parked. "All out!"
Xelloss stood clear with Lina and Zelgadiss, while Valgaav and Gourry hammered at the padlock with a rock. It had worked on the weathered gate opening into the shrine's garden, but this door was intended to keep the most aspiring of grave diggers out of the crypt itself.
"Too bad we couldn't find a crowbar," Gourry said.
"Well, no one listened to me when I said I had the solution," Lina grumbled. "But just to show there's no hard feelings, here." She brandished the fireplace poker, which she had taken from the cabin at the last minute, like a lance. "This oughta do."
"It sure should, if it's strong enough metal." Gourry tested the feel of the heavy rod, then forced it between the chain links, twisted, and snapped the links.
Their celebration was cut short, though when the wrought iron gate wouldn't budge. "Rusted shut," Valgaav determined. "Ready? On the count of three–"
He and Gourry shouldered the gate with such force that the hinges tore out the rock which had been cemented into the wall. The two men tumbled to the hard dirt floor moments before the entire iron gate twisted, taking down part of the supporting wall, tipped over, and fell amid a cloud of dust and falling rubble. Xel stepped around them, fanning the air, then knelt to see if they were okay. "Help me free them, Zelgadiss!"
Valgaav and Gourry needed no assistance to get to their feet after Zelgadiss and Xel heaved off the massive gate and extracted them from the rock. Lina moved a rock, but leaning over was painful, so she stopped. "I hope that's not a portent of things to come," Lina said, knowing it was. The headache she had noticed at dinner was now worse and accompanied by dull abdominal cramps. If nothing else, she would soon have her period to contend with, and she hadn't brought along any pads.
Moments later, the co-conspirators were outside the crypt, setting out their gear in preparation to go in. "Okay, Valgaav," Xel said in a serious tone. "Here's where you stop."
Valgaav nodded his acquiescence. He had wanted to accompany them all in the search of the tombs-- it was a particular lifelong interest of his-- but had agreed to stand guard at the entrance positioned to run back to the cabin, should the girls be in need, or to aid the excavators. He had argued for Gourry to stand guard duty, but Xel insisted that he would be better suited to guarding Lina, if a life or death situation arise. That was when Valgaav understood just how deep Xel's relationship had become with Lina. He had to be sincerely in love to put her above and beyond all else. "Yeah, I'll check the walkie-talkie communications."
In the weeks before, Xel had searched his mother's store of records, gleaning fragments of information on the layout and the contents of the underground burial place. He had shared some of that information earlier, but now he surrendered the rest. "Thanks, Val. Okay, guys. We ought to expect most of the vaults to be half full and partly walled or capped off."
Still standing outside with the ruined gate at his back, Xel pointed a flashlight into the interior of the crypt, illuminating rough-hewn stone steps leading straight down to a low-ceilinged entry. Three catacombs branched off into yawning black holes. "Down those paths we should find a varying number of enclosed vaults."
"Not too bad," Lina said. Cold air rose from the opening. "Good thing we have on these coveralls. I forgot how cold old caves can get. Ah... just how cold does it get down there?"
"Above freezing, around forty degrees," Xel said as he shrugged his shoulders. "The middle path leads under the shrine itself and, apparently, it goes further into the hill back there. It's the larger space, from what I could tell. Then there are two outer passageways ending in the vaults with an external wall. One of these passages leads deeper underground and the other ends abruptly with most of the burials in some upper compartment. It was difficult to understand the layout; I wasn't able to get an actual map or blueprint.
"Anyway, alternating vaults have an air vent leading up into the garden of the shrine. Some vaults have no external wall, as I said, like those under the shrine. Oddly, a small number of vaults, those in that upper passageway, appear to be linked to the shrine's heating flues. I assume as a cheap substitute for putting in real air vents."
Gourry was the only one not used to suiting up in coveralls and was having a difficulty getting suited up. He noticed that everyone else was ready and waiting for him, both Zelgadiss and Lina looking aggravated. Gourry assumed they were mad at his incompetence, which made him feel out of place with them, so he hastened his efforts to catch up. Unfortunately, he only made matters worse as he hooked his shoe in the elastic ankle cuff, nearly falling over, caught the zipper on a shirt tail.
His flailing arms nearly knocked Zelgadiss out. It was comical, and ordinarily everyone would have gotten a good laugh from his antics, especially Zelgadiss, but his nerves in particular were frayed by his surroundings and his mission. "Hey! Watch it!" Zelgadiss retorted irritably.
"Sorry," Gourry said, embarrassed and defensive. "I never wore one of these things before-- not to work everyday."
Like I do, Zelgadiss filled in inaudibly. He immediately returned a quiet, "Sorry." He hadn't meant to snap at his friend. The tension eased from both their strained faces, and they exchanged apologetic glances.
While Gourry was untangling his hair from his zipper, Xel ran down the checklist, calling out directions as he went. "Check that you're double-gloved and that you have a spare pair of gloves. Test your flashlights, and don't forget to bring a spare battery pack and your collection containers. As soon as we breach a seal, breathe only through your air filters, and turn on your walkie-talkies."
Zelgadiss agreed to take the one outer path down into the bowels of the crypt. Crawling through the dry, dusty opening would not bother him, he knew. Zelgadiss was reminded of the day he had lost his locker keys out in the parking lot of the high school. Someone had jostled his elbow, causing his keys to fly out of his hand and onto the rough asphalt, then a foot had kicked them unintentionally past the grating cover that led to an opening beneath the gymnasium. "Damn it all," he had grumbled as he sloughed off his backpack. "Here, Gourry, hold this for me. I got to go in there to get my keys."
Gourry had had his doubts. "Pretty tight spot, Zel."
But it had been Gourry who had helped him remove the grate and had watched him crawl head first into the darkness. Scrabbling on his belly in the dark, Zelgadiss had choked on the powdery dust, scraped his palms on sharp rocks, and slit his pants from mid-thigh to his knee on a piece of glass, but he had persisted until he had recovered his keys. Lina had called him "bull-headed," but Gourry had assured her that Zel "just needed the keys a lot." Zelgadiss had considered himself to be "resolute." Yeah, and "brave."
He was daring and courageous now, too, in the pursuit of his mother's grave. He tested his half-gloves, fingertips removed, waved to the others, and flattened onto his belly. Crawling down deeper into the catacomb, he was relieved that the had not encountered any sharp impediments to his progress, but was sure he would if there were any to be found, then remembered he was wearing a headlamp. "Thanks, Valgaav," he muttered into his face mask. Valgaav had picked up a few of the headlamps designed for spelunking at the sporting goods store, and Zelgadiss could now admire his forethought. The light bounced off rock walls not over two feet high, then disappeared into a tunnel that steeply sloped downward.
While Zelgadiss nudged past the rock entry to the lower level, Lina shouted a few encouraging words to his feet, and Xel and Gourry considered the approach up into upper crypt. The opening was no more than three feet high.
"I'd give it a go, but I don't think I'd fit."
Xel chuckled. "No, no... I don't think you'd be able to get your shoulders past the opening."
"Makes you wonder how they got coffins in. Well, I suppose I could drive in some of those pitons Val sent with us. Ya know, into the rock here...and here, so you can climb up." Gourry scratched his head again.
"I'm having difficulty imagining me doing that," Xel admitted.
"Quit looking like a monkey doing math!" Lina shoved past them both. "I'm the only one that can make it through that ferret hole. Gourry, you know the way. Just catapult me up there." She twisted her hair into a rope then a bun and pulled a knit cap over top. "Ready."
As Lina slipped into the hole, Zelgadiss was discovering that the downward slant of his tunnel had leveled off quickly. Zelgadiss was slender enough to fit into the narrow slot and nimble enough to make the 90 degree angle turn, which brought him face to face with a line of wooden caskets. His hand grazed the corner of one, splintering the decaying wood. "Gah!"
The debris of decomposed coffin lining and other things he probably didn't want to think about poured over one arm. "Shit," he snarled in disgust.
With all his strength, he heaved himself past the restricted passage and into the chamber with only enough head room for him to stand stooped over. "These look too old and jumbled together to belong to Zelas' sister. You'd think she'd be in something regal. Of course, you'd think a lot of this should be different if whatever was going on wasn't illegal."
His walkie-talkie crackled to life, and he heard a voice. "Is that you talking to yourself, Zelgadiss?"
"Yeah," he muttered into his, as he peeled back his breathing mask. "This is revolting."
"Some people think what you do for a living is disgusting, too," Xel replied with amusement. "Anyway, I called you to say that I'm moving on to the last room. Lina's in the upper chamber and Gourry's staying, waiting for you guys. If neither of you finds anything then we'll move in my direction. Now, put your mask back on. Over."
"All right," Zelgadiss replied. "Like I need to be reminded of that... Over."
1With headroom so limited, Zelgadiss had to be far closer to decomposed bodies than he liked. He scrabbled about the coffins' detritus, looking for identification of any sort. The outer wooden coffins, cracking from desiccation, mostly revealed nothing, but occasionally he could locate inscribed breast- and end-plates. These 'plated' coffins grew in number as he moved further from the entrance. When he reached the end and still had found nothing of his mother's burial, he burst out in a fury of disappointment, "This is stupid!"
Zelgadiss was not dealing with his discouragement well, knew it, and that further angered him into kicking at the last burial pile. Even from his awkward angle, hunched over, his strike was forceful, sending out a shower of pulverized debris, and now his boot was lodged inside a coffin. "Damn it anyhow!"
With a hard wrench to one side, the aged wood splintered, giving way, and his foot freed suddenly. Too suddenly, because he was unable to recover his balance before his weight shifted onto his unsupported elbows, and down he fell. "Gah!' he yelped, sliding backwards and down into a darkened side chute. "Oof!" He was brought up shortly when his head and shoulders collided with a stout board.
Lina, meanwhile, was close to regretting her rash decision to search the upper crypt. She had found finger holds to cling to the rock ledge had been able to shimmy over the lip and past the narrow aperture of the gap.
Not surprisingly, conditions were dramatically worse in the vault linked to the heating ducts– Lina's vault. Water had leaked through the duct work and the warmth had encouraged bacteria and decomposition. She could hear water dripping in several places. "And here I thought it would be drier if I went up," she grumbled to herself. "Hope Zel's not drowning."
As she crawled down the passage, her hands slipped out from under her. Lina scrabbled desperately for support, but lost her balance and landed chest-first onto the hard, greasy floor of the tunnel. "Ugh!" She hated slimy, wet things, and she was fast becoming just that.
Lina wiped the muck off her mouth and onto her sleeve. "Disgusting!" She had to remind herself why she was there, but still her hands were trembling. Lina shivered at the revolting feelings. Her subconscious was indelibly imprinted with an intense, profound, and unreasonable fear of slimy creatures. "Although," she reminded herself with a shrug and half smile. "I have no problem with noodles, especially in dinner form. Well, enough of this sniveling stuff! I've got a job to do and the sooner I get on it, the sooner it'll be over." With her own form of self-encouragement, Lina rose up onto her hands and knees, and crawled with deliberation to inspect her first stack of coffins waiting ominously for her at the end of the passageway.
The crawl space opened into a low-ceiling cavern, similar to the one Zelgadiss had located far below. "Nothing, nothing, and more nothing. Just a pile of cold, creepy, crap," Lina muttered. "No names, hardly anything but rotting boards. Good thing I'm short. Nobody else could do this. Okay, that bunch is done. Bunch like bananas. What's next? Ah, more packed like pickles... Pickled and jammed in a box, then stacked in piles and stuffed...like olives." Lina's stomach growled in response to her food-related musings, then a cramp low in her intestines bent her double. "No, not now, body! Speaking of slime! Gods, how I hate being female sometimes!"
"Lina? Howya doin'?"
Lina punched the on button to her walkie-talkie and barked into the mouthpiece. "Gourry? Don't bother me now. I'm shitty, and that's the best I can report. Over and out!" She slammed the instrument off. "Damn men, sticking their nose into my business, telling me how to do it. They're really only good for one thing." She chuckled at her subsequent, colorful, indecent thoughts, not that she believed what she'd said– men probably had numerous uses– but it helped occupy her mind.
Surrounded by the gruesome reminders of death-- the dank charnel smell and trails of dark shining goo pooling on the floor-- threatened to drive her into a panic. To avoid it, Lina let her imagination break free. Instead of coffins, there was a bed, candles, Xel stretching languidly across one end. He wore only a sultry expression. She felt another twinge in her gut. "Well, a period means I'm not pregnant, heh, heh, not that that could happen with all the care Xel takes."
Luckily, Zelgadiss had skidded only a few feet, but when he stopped moving he found himself wedged into a place in the shadows he never would have discovered, even after searching methodically. His hand moved to rub his sore head, when he brushed against a cool smooth surface. "Metal?" He quickly reached up and adjusted his headlight, which had been knocked awry in the accident, then turned to examine his find. His heart rate sped up. This was a fine brass plate engraved with elegant script. He rubbed it clean and stared in rapt disbelief. It read: Deep Sea Dolphinia. Aside from the nameplate, the box was in good condition, but was nondescript.
"H-hello? Xel? You there? I think I found it. Yeah, there's a nameplate that says: Deep Sea Dolphinia. Right. I'm going to open it and then try for the samples." He set the walkie-talkie to the side, then used a knife to pry open the lid. The rims parted slowly. He shouldered the weight, pushed, caught and held the edges as the seal gave way and lifted. Again, he put the knife to use, embedding the point into the coffin body, and bracing the top up. Pushing away the yellowed shroud, he revealed a smiling, white skull. Embalmed or not, it took very little time for decomposition to completely remove the skin and flesh of humanity. He squeezed his eyes shut to remove the disturbing image. "Don't think; do," he muttered aloud.
Without waiting a moment longer, he pried loose a few teeth and popped them out, carved off a finger and a toe, dumped the remains into a sterile pouch, and wrestled his blade free from the wood. Dust flew into his face as the lid slammed shut, and he was grateful for the mask. He stashed everything into his pack and crawled upwards into the main cavity.
His communication device sputtered before Xel's voice came through. "You okay, Zelgadiss?"
He had to stop to retrieve it, remove his mask, and think of what to say. "Yeah, just a minute. I'm in a really cramped space here and the mask is in the way. There. Okay, I collected everything and I'm on my way out."
"Sounds good. Was it...difficult?"
"In what way do you mean that? In a desecrating-my-mother's-grave kind of way or in a could-have-used-a-hand kind of way? No matter. I got the goods and I'll be out momentarily. Over and out." He clipped the communication device onto his belt loop, yanked the mask up over his nose, and continued creeping slowly back up the tunnel.
Lina fumbled with the next group of coffins, searching for identification or signs that any one of these could be Zelgadiss' mother's burial site. She continued to distract herself from the moldy contents, the black sticky ooze, and slimy, damp wood she was handling with more thoughts of Xel. She wondered what it would be like if she did happen to get pregnant. How would Xel feel about her carrying his child? "How would I?" she wondered out loud. "Would I want that someday?" Then it occurred to her that she hadn't spoken a civil word to Xel that night, and that their last interactions had left much to be desired. She was beginning to feel bad about how she'd treated him, when her walkie-talkie buzzed at her hip. She clicked it on. "Yeah? I'm busy."
"You can come back, Lina. Zelgadiss found her. It's over."
"Xel? You're not kidding me, are you?"
"Nope!"
"Cool. Okay, I'm on my way. Yahoo!"
Lina assumed Xel would be there when she dropped down from her crypt hole and into Gourry's welcoming arms. "Whoa! You sure are dirty!" he said with a flinch.
"Yeah, lucky me. I got the hell-hole. Hey, at least Zelly found what we came for, right?"
Lina shook herself free and pranced over to where Zelgadiss was sitting, looking over the stolen material with a marked lack of enthusiasm. "Hey, that's pretty great, huh? Congrats, bud. So, we can go now? Maybe make something of the rest of the weekend, right? Um, so where's Xel?"
Zelgadiss tipped his head to the side, indicating the long tunnel into the mountain. "He went that way. He said he was looking around and would be back shortly, as his battery ran out on his walkie-talkie. Have a seat. Oh, and keep that mask on. We've stirred up dust everywhere."
"Not me," Lina said. "I was making mud pies." She corrected the fit of her mask, then asked in a muffled voice, "Has anyone told Valgaav or the cabin-girls?"
"Xel called him. I looked outside and didn't see him on guard duty so I assume he went to get the cabin-girls and bring them here so we can load up and leave," he said half-heartedly.
Gourry had had a lot of time to circle the room. It was more of a cavern carved out of the rock than a room. In his multiple circumventions of the subterranean space, he had come upon another passageway. He hadn't been certain if it was a real discovery or something he'd forgotten hearing about. Xel might have told them all about it, but he just couldn't recall being told of more than three passageways. Nobody had offered to go check it out, though, so it possibly he had made a real find after all. Yeah, maybe it was newer than Xel's maps. Gourry had thought he might take a look. Of course, that might have meant Lina would have been stuck up in that dark hole if he wasn't there to catch her, so he had 'stayed put' and waited. Zelgadiss might have needed a hand out, too. Gourry had looked up, down and over at his tunnel choices, considering what it was that he had to do. He had felt he was wasting his time, but if Lina might need him, or Zel, then time he would waste. He had figured he ought to bring it up, in case it was important, when Lina and Zelgadiss were back.
"Oh," Gourry remembered to tell them now. "There's this other passage over here."
Lina tore off her face mask to make sure she could be understood. "Huh? What passage? When did you find this?"
"While you were up there, I thought maybe Xel knew about it and I missed his talking about it."
"Idiot! Xel didn't say anything about one over there; that's behind the shrine, I think. Show me!"
Zelgadiss stepped in before Lina could pound on Gourry's back. "Calm down. The man didn't do anything wrong. You might want to put on your mask, though. We don't know what we'll find. Gourry, we should just take a look. We have what we came for, and I don't want to push my luck."
The passage was narrow with sharp turns, but not wet, steep, or littered with debris. "Looks used," Gourry observed, grumbling as he went, "by midgets." He was having trouble maneuvering in the tight space, and was last to step into the space beyond. He nearly ran down Lina and Zelgadiss, who were frozen stock still. "Whoa, would ya look at that?"
Lina was the first to recover. Instead of wooden coffins, hundreds of clear, plastic body bags were stacked horizontally, bounded by steel dividers to keep them in place. "They must be fifty deep...and as many rows over here. The bodies just keep going back further into the mountain. There could be thousands and thousands."
Zelgadiss moved cautiously to the nearest bag and fingered the end. "Toe tags just have a number."
"You suppose these are dead guys from the jail or the nuthouse?"
Lina shook her head. "No, too neat. Look at the bodies. They are mostly alike, or of a couple kinds."
"They look unfinished," Zelgadiss said, his lip curling in disgust. "It's where she buries her test subjects."
Lina shivered. "Gods, this place gives me the creeps. Let's get out of here."
Sylphiel, Filia, and Amelia, remained at the cabin, what Valgaav had called the "base station." They watched at the door as he drove the others into the chilling blackness. "I wish he was staying here and not leaving to guard that direful tomb entrance," Sylphiel said.
"Direful?" Filia's right eyebrow twitched. "You've been watching too many horror flicks lately, Sylph."
"But it did look forbidding, didn't it?" Amelia said, patting Sylphiel's arm gently. Amelia and Filia both agreed that the cabin would feel a whole lot safer with him. "But we must be brave and do our part," Amelia reminded them.
"Of course, but there's no rule that says we shouldn't make ourselves comfortable. I'll make hot cocoa, "Sylphiel offered with her usual philanthropy.
Later, with a warm, steaming mug in her hands, Filia said, "I hope we don't actually have to use those guns."
"Me, neither. I'm going to be optimistic and say they'll find Mr. Zelgadiss' mother's grave, get what they need, and be back in no time so, then we can leave and never come back to this island again."
"Amelia, you are always the hopeful one," Sylphiel said looking kindly at her younger friend. "They can't get back soon enough for me."
"That's for sure," Filia agreed. "I brought a deck of cards. Anyone want to play?"
The three young women settled into some semblance of comfortable conversation and entertainment, always on edge and waiting for a call or the sound of the van. It was, however, another kind of sound that broke the silence of the night.
Valgaav paced the wall like a caged cheetah. His long legs stepped around the ruined gate; he padded into the dreary shrine garden and approached the crypt entry. He knew every shadow, rock, and the names of a few of the stars overhead. Nothing moved. He was on full alert for any deviation in the dead stillness. He ran his flashlight over the formless mounds. Light glinted off stagnate water and floating grey-green sludge pooled in a chiseled, marble fountain. Colorless tiles, gray pavers, blanched skeletons of dried up vegetation, everything washed out, dulled by the artificial illumination. He wished for something-- a dry leaf blowing across his path, a mouse scavenging, a moth attracted to his flashlight-- something living and breathing, or at least animated. Nothing stirred. Not even a breeze.
With a sigh, Valgaav turned and walked back along the path he'd just walked. "Hope they find what they're looking for before I start banging my head against the wall," he growled. His thoughts wandered to Amelia. Now she was warm, breathing, and most assuredly alive. He wondered how she and the other young ladies were getting along, and pulled out the walkie-talkie to find out. "Hey, how are my girls doing?"
"Um...not bad," came Sylphiel's voice through the crackling distortion of the communication device. She tried to sound convincing, but her voice shook.
"What's that I hear in the background?" Valgaav held the earpiece firmly to his head and covered his other ear. It was a keen moaning, inhuman and undulating eerily, distinctively– "Wolves!"
"Yes, I think so. We heard them start up a few minutes ago. They've been getting closer. Amelia is at one window and Filia at the other– with rifles. I-I don't think they can break in. We'll be okay."
Valgaav held the walkie-talkie in his hand, which buzzed ineffectually. He suddenly felt very alone. And very uneasy. He was needed somewhere, and it was not here, in his lifeless–
"Valgaav! Valgaav! Come in!" The walkie-talkie crackled back to life, with Amelia's voice. Val's heart missed a beat. "They're at the door and scratching! One of the windows is cracked!"
"I'm coming," he barked, and switched back to the other signal immediately. "Xel! Damn you, what's wrong with your signal?" He punched at the device. "Zelgadiss! Wolves at the cabin. I'm going to help, then come back," he reported, then, before his friend or cousin could reply, he snapped off the walkie-talkie and stashed it into his pack.
Valgaav was hard-pressed to think about damaging the van as he barreled recklessly back to the cabin. In the light of the bright beams he could make out a pack of at least a dozen savage beasts clawing at the door and bounding over one another to get at the girls on the other side. The roar of the engine and the screeching of brakes caught their attention.
"Valgaav's here!" Amelia announced with relief.
He honked the horn repeatedly and drove into the midst of the pack, nudging them back and away. He hadn't the heart to run them over– not yet. He would, if he had no choice, but that wouldn't necessarily do anything but maim some innocent animals and ruin the van. The smaller ones took off howling in disappointment and fear of the giant beast pushing them off their prey. Valgaav pulled out his handgun and shot twice over the heads of a tightly knit group that was springing boldly at a window. Those dispersed into the darkness, wailing their despair as well. There remained two: the alpha male and female.
"I'd hate to breakup a mated pair, so git!" he bellowed in warning.
The female laid back her ears and snarled in defiance, the male backing her up with ominous growls. They had no intentions of giving up so easily; they were too well disciplined. They stood their ground, eyes trained on Valgaav's every movement inside the van, not fooled, or at least undaunted, by the mechanical beast without. "Damn you for making this hard," he growled back, slipping the gun into his pants and reaching for a different weapon.
Two pairs of ears twitched as the van door opened and out stepped the man, fire-poker in hand. "Go!" he roared, jumping forward hoping to startle the wolves into action. He did, but it wasn't what he had counted on.
The female launched herself at his throat while the male circled around to his back. "Stupid–!" The man whorled his iron rod around, smashing it into the attacking wolf's head. The animal howled in agony, rolling out of the way, but quickly regained her feet, blood dripping from her ear. Valgaav's shoulders and arms ached with the effort. He had no time to keep an eye on her; he heard the scuffling of paws behind him as the male pushed off from the ground.
Valgaav twisted to meet the oncoming wolf, having the forethought to hold the poker point-forward as the massive weight pounded into him. Again, the pain shot through his upper body as the poker was nearly wrenched from his grip. He scarcely slipped to the side, avoiding the butt-end of the iron rod as he was flattened onto the hard earth. Pinned above him was the wolf, writhing in agony around the poker which pierced through its rib cage and out its back. With super-human strength, given him by the rush of adrenaline, Valgaav shoved the hundred-plus-pound animal off his chest and dragged himself up to a shaky stance.
"What did I do to my shoulder now?" he wondered with a grimace.
"Watch out!"
He heard the cry of alarm and swept back his long, sweat-soaked bangs from his eyes, but only in time to see a shadow flicker. Still, he spun away as fast as lightening, swearing loudly for his failure to attend to the injured female. This time, his left arm exploded in pain as sharp claws ripped his jacket, tearing through the cloth like wet tissue and hooking into his flesh. A loud blast shot through the cacophony of noise.
Amelia let the smoking rifle slip from her hands as she ran to her fallen boyfriend. "Valgaav! You're hurt!"
He was, but he was alive, too, and more shocked by her proactive reaction with the gun than by the injury. Filia and Sylphiel were out the door, and, together, the girls hauled him into the cabin, setting to work washing and tending his wounds.
A few minutes later, he gulped down a few pain killers and gingerly tested his arm. He hissed with pain.
"You have to keep it still!" Sylphiel insisted. "You'll get it to bleeding again and you've already lost too much blood. Here, I'll wrap it to your chest so you can't use it."
He'd never heard her sound so sure of herself, or so, well, bossy. "Your shoulder is not right. I think it's out of joint so this will keep that fixed in place until we can get you to a hospital."
"Thanks," he muttered through his gritted teeth, thankful for this sweet girl's sudden take-charge attitude under stress. She was a great nurse, he realized, and would probably be a great doctor if she chose to be. Unfortunately, he did not have the time to follow procedure. "That will have to wait. I have to get back to the others. Amelia, get that scarf and tie it around my head."
"The black one? Like this?"
"Yeah, time to get a hair trim. Can't see through the bangs," he said in a gentle voice as his young girlfriend tended to his demands. She wasn't hysterical and worthless, which he expected most girls to become. Filia and Sylphiel were stalwart companions as well, but not as important to him as Amelia.
Amelia wiped off the trickle of sweat running down his temple, then leaned closer and kissed him softly. "I'm so glad you're all right." She checked the knot and arranged the rest of his hair. "You look like a ninja fighter."
"Yeah, you look fine. Listen, you go guard the others if you feel you still have to, but we aren't staying here any longer!" Filia announced. "I'm not going to be a sitting duck dinner for another pack of wolves."
"She's right," Amelia agreed. "I'm sorry if it angers Xel, but we can't stay in this place. While we were waiting, we did some packing. It will only take us a minute to finish and load everything into the van. We might as well all wait at that shrine as here. At least we'll be together, if not safer."
Valgaav thought of the quiescent fountain at the shrine, the eerie stillness broken by only his footfalls. "Probably right. Okay, let's go then."
He switched on the overhead beams, started the engine, threw it into gear, and tore off down the road to the shrine. He steered with his right hand, while his left remained bent at the elbow and tightly bound to his chest. A weak crackling noise followed by a buzz came from under his jacket. "Is that your walkie-talkie?" Amelia asked.
Without a free hand, he couldn't answer it. "Forget it. I'm driving as fast as I can. We'll be there in a minute, then I'll just go see them. There, it shut off on its own. Probably just checking back. Maybe they found the burial."
Gourry stopped in his tracks. "You hear that?"
Next thing they knew, Rezo, looking better than he had any right to, was floating into the room beneath a voluminous cape. He had come from out of nowhere, Zelgadiss thought, and he was the most alarmed. "Grandfather!"
Lina laughed. "What are you doing here in a getup like that? It's ridiculous! Though, that staff of yours is pretty damn cool. Can I see it?"
Rezo moved the staff further from her outstretched arm and shook his head. The man smiled a patient smile, as if he had to merely endure the children one more time. It was Rezo, but his expression was too complacent and his eyes remained closed. "The question is: What are you doing here?" His head turned toward Zelgadiss, effectively freezing him to the floor. "You shouldn't have brought these others. It's time to go. This way." He gestured with the long staff, a walking stick topped with rings and beads that jangled together in dissonantly, pointing toward the gaping, dark passageway.
"Just you hold on there, mister!" Lina shouted. "Where's Xel?"
The man returned a blank expression. "Xel–?"
"Xel-loss? His mother runs this place, you know, Zel-aass Metallium? We all came here at her invitation, for a party, if you have to know, not that it's any business of yours. So, if you don't like us being here, take it up with her. Now, you have to have seen Xel, or passed him in that other tunnel. Go back and get him. We'll settle this right now."
"I have come for Zelgadiss."
"Well, that's your problem, you mindless drone! He's a grown man now and you can't tell him what to do! Now go get Xel!"
She didn't know how close to the truth she was with her name calling. Rezo wheeled around, swinging his staff. "He is mine!"
"Wrong!" Gourry shouted, blocking the staff with his rifle. "You heard Lina. Go get Xel and talk to him."
Lina grabbed at Zel's shirt. "Get out of here and get Valgaav!"
Zelgadiss, previously frozen in place like a fish filet, reanimated in Lina's presence, dashed down the tunnel, out into the cavern, up the stairs and out into the open of the shrine garden. He had not run into Xel or Valgaav, as he had expected. He whipped the walkie-talkie from his hip and yelled, "Valgaav! Get yer ass back here!" But Valgaav wasn't answering. "Damn you anyway!" Zelgadiss shouted. "Answer!"
A shot rang out, the echo bouncing off the stone walls. "Gah!" Zelgadiss gasped, as his walkie-talkie exploded into fragments. Someone was shooting at him! He turned and flew back into the crypt, out of sight.
Zelgadiss heard shouting, scuffling, and the clang of metal on stone. His friends were in trouble. He ripped off his pack and dug into the center compartment for the hand guns. His trusty blade was in its scabbard at his hip. What happened to Xel? He hoped the man wasn't hurt and lying bleeding someplace. But what if this was his plan all along? Lure them into trap, disappear, then let his mother's people capture him? No, that's crazy thinking! He wouldn't do that, not Xel. But then, what was with his grandfather showing up? And why was looking so... energetic? Yes, that was the word! His questions would go unanswered for the moment, though. He removed the safety of one of the guns, stuck the other in his pocket, and stepped cautiously down the rock staircase.
Gourry parried skillfully with the equally tall and talented man. Lina could see that one would slip up eventually, and it could just as easily be Gourry as the old man, who didn't look old at all. Her attention was diverted by the sound of footfalls. For a second, her spirits lifted, Valgaav and Zelgadiss were on their way, but the noise was coming from the wrong direction. The room had another entry somewhere! Could it be Xel? NO! Men in strange hooded robes were flooding the room. "Gourry!" she screamed in alarm.
Lina pulled him back into the narrow passage, screeching, "Get out! Run!"
He ran, she pushed, and they stumbled into the cavern entry, where Lina pointed to the slimy, high passage, and shouted out orders once more. "Get me up there again!"
He thought she meant to hide, and he didn't blame her. "Yeah." Without questioning her, he once more sent her flying up to the lip of the upper passageway. From there he watched her disappear, satisfied that she, at least, might be safe.
"OH!" Amelia cried out from the passenger seat as they arrived at the shrine. Shadowy forms surged around the tomb entry. "Who are those people!"
Valgaav ran the van off the road, jumped out, and slammed off the lights. "This is bad." He pushed Amelia back into the front seat. "Stay here and guard the van and Sylphiel!"
"But...?" The question died on her lips under his determined gaze.
"I'm moving in. I need you to fire off a few shots to distract them." His eyes pleaded with Amelia's for understanding and compliance.
She acquiesced with a curt nod. "Right!"
Filia pushed forward. "I can do something. I demand to help. I can aim, target shoot."
He stared her down, then decided to take his chances that she wouldn't shoot him in the back. "Okay. Come with me. You'll watch my back until we get to the wall there, see it? Then stay behind that and cover me until I go in. Then, I want you to fall back to the van and guard it with Amelia, understand? No heroics!"
"Fine," Filia agreed and climbed into the back of the van to get her shotgun.
Meanwhile, Lina gritted her teeth and closed her mind to her surroundings. She had to ignore the smell of decay, even through her mask; her ghoulish work exposing more of the sticky tar of what she knew was decomposing bodies as she ripped apart the burial cases and collected skulls was more than any weaker soul could take. "This is not the rot inside a corpse," she muttered to herself.
From somewhere outside her morbid world the beat of gunfire played in the background, reminding her how little time she had to waste. She worked frantically, piling up dozens of white, grinning skulls, then rolling them all down the passage to the opening. She knew she'd be no match in the fighting with just her short knife, and she desperately hoped that this risky, if not utterly disgusting, strategy would work.
Where was Xel? It wasn't possible that he would let this happen to his friends, to her, not after all they had shared. She hoped he was okay. She regretted not taking the time before entering the crypt to say something nice to him. She hated to think how childish he must think she was. As much as she liked to think she could control him, she knew he was an independent man, one that moved smoothly in the adult world and had so much to teach her. Secretly, she loved when he would flatten her on the bed, overwhelming her senses, possessing her. Another volley of gunfire shook her out of her dreamworld. "Here I am thinking of sex while I work like a girl possessed!" Lina muttered aloud. Possessed. Her mind cleared to crystal acuity. Why would Zelgadiss' grandfather attack them this way? Because Rezo is possessed! "Right!" she shouted. She was excited by this inspired logic. Hadn't Sherra told them about that rumor? Is that a copy-Rezo? "I gotta tell Gourry!"
She scrambled to the lip of the lofty opening and peered out. Gourry was tiring. He sported a bruise to his cheekbone where Rezo's staff had hit his face. How many more injuries he had sustained, Lina couldn't know. Her blood boiled. Opening the jaws of one of the skulls, Lina jammed it full of mud and rocks from the passage. "Gods, this had better work!" She hazarded one more look out the hole, taking a moment to aim, then yelled to Gourry, "It's not Rezo. That's his clone. It isn't a real man!" She paused long enough to see the enlightenment shine in her friend's eyes, then threw the bony projectile down atop of Rezo's head as hard as possible. "Banzai!"
Knowing that he didn't need to hold back, Gourry lashed out one more time as the heavy projectile slammed his opponent on the head. His rifle butt connected with the man's gut, sending the Rezo clone crashing into the wall behind him with such force that the wall gave way, enveloping the creature in a fall of rock.
Gourry looked up in time to catch Lina launch another bone-bomb at cloaked figure running his way. "Bombs away!" she cried out.
He had time to signal Lina with a 'thumbs up' before having to turn and confront the next attacker. He looked up when Lina shouted "Catch!" He caught the empty skull, grimacing as he ran his fingers along its smooth surface. A wild thought occurred to him out of the blue: the eye sockets were like bowling ball finger holes. With a short windup, he fired off the skull, sending it skittering it to the ground, where it shot off spinning like mad, knocking men over like wooden pins.
Zelgadiss was working his way from the stairs toward Gourry, shooting masked men until his ammunition ran out. Then he drew out his knife and slit the throat of the first man to block his way. He had not thought he was a bloodthirsty man, but a summer of pain and autopsies had deadened his sensitivity toward gore. His attackers had not actually hurt him, as if they were not certain if he were important or not, but Zelgadiss wasn't thinking. He was reacting like a berserker, hitting, cutting, destroying anything or anyone in his path.
One man came up behind him and ripped off his face mask. The man took one look at Zelgadiss' blistered face, marred by the chemical accident only three months in the past, and screamed. Zelgadiss stabbed him through the heart, silencing him forever. He moved another step forward and spotted Gourry's golden hair rising above the moving mass, his muscular arms striking out, cutting down the opposition in his path, a mighty warrior from times long past.
There was Rezo: limp, eyes closed, and immobilized against the wall, taken out. Zelgadiss felt oddly unsatisfied and empty. Something dropped from a point above his line of sight, and a hooded attacker crumpled to the ground. Zelgadiss traced the trajectory and found Lina, grinning like a frenzied demon, thrusting another grisly missile out the passage gap, and yelling: "Bomb Blast!"
Zelgadiss felt a rush of relief, knowing that he wasn't the only one caught up in the bloodlust of the martial melee. He felt success was at hand, the pride of accomplishment warming his chilled and hardened heart for an instant– and then more ageless minions appeared at the main entry, letting out a roar of excitement. His hopes fell. There was no escape. They were doomed. But where was Xel? Valgaav? Wait, Valgaav had called him about something. He was going back to the cabin for something. What had he called about? Zelgadiss raked his memories for when he had last heard from Valgaav. He had been too busy to care at the time. Dancing with wolves? Wolves! Anguish swept over his mind as he considered the terrible situation in which he'd left Sylphiel-- protecting their worthless stuff from... wolves. "Wolves," he groaned aloud. Possibly they could get away. He hoped they would, and felt better thinking that at least his other friends were better off than he was...
End, Graveyard Shift 25