Zombie and the Beast

- 3 -

More time passed without a sign of Cal. Lara knew he would come back the second he could, but it was taking him much longer than she would have expected. She waited and waited, getting more nervous with every second that passed.

"Come on!" said a man nervously somewhere nearby. "Hurry up."

"Why? D'you think there're ghosts around?" said another one. His voice was deep and raspy. He laughed.

"Nah. Just don't want the wife to wake up and see I'm not back yet. She'll worry thinking I drank myself to death or got caught by the night guard again."

"Well, she'd almost be right about drinking yourself to death, wouldn't she? You really can't keep your alcohol." He chuckled.

They were coming closer. Lara frowned, all her muscles stiff with fear. A wave of nausea made her want to cough. What if they found her?

"Hey wait! What's this?" asked the man with the raspy voice before laughing happily. "Looks like they stopped mid-burial ceremony and forgot their offerings here."

Lara shuddered and bit her lip to keep a whimper from coming out. They had found the second bottle of potion.

"Don't touch that. What if they come back?"

"At this time? Doubt it. Who buries someone in the dark? Want some? Everybody knows the alcohol given as offering is the best."

"No thanks," said the nervous man.

"Arg!" The man coughed and made heaving sounds. "What's that?! Dragon-egg that's gross!"

Lara's heart jumped as the sound of glass shattering resounded over her head. Splitters fell on the blanket. Based on the sounds, one of them had thrown the bottle right against her memorial tree. She swallowed her desire to scream at the men. How could they be so disrespectful?

"Are you crazy? Let's go!" said the nervous-sounding one. "We're done if the guards heard. I've already got two warnings this month."

"Ugh, so disgusting. Hey! Wait for me!"

The pungent smell of essential oils filled the air, reminding Lara of home and sending a wave of warmth and optimism though her body. She listened to the men's voices until they faded in the distance. Happy that they had left and that she still had one bottle of potion, she took a deep breath and settled to wait some more. Surely, Cal had simply run into someone else and would come back soon.

Time went by slowly. After a while, birds started calling each other, their songs filling the cemetery with life. Bells chimed somewhere far away and a dog answered them with a few barks. Lara's heart skipped a beat with every new sound. A faint smell of baking bread reached her nose, telling her that a nearby bakery was getting ready for the day ahead. Her stomach rumbled and she brought her left hand to it, hoping to hide its noise. Morning was coming and Cal was still missing. Soon, people would be going to work. Many would take a shortcut through the cemetery. Hiding would become impossible. Her heart beating faster with each minute that stretched by, Lara listened intently to the early morning sounds while trying to ignore her increasing fear and cramping muscles.

A few more minutes went by, as long as centuries. She bit her lower lip until it hurt. What was she supposed de to do? Had something happened to Cal? Her stomach heavy with dread, Lara bit her lower lip again. It tasted faintly metallic, making her grimace. Staying in her coffin during daytime would be a sure way of getting discovered and Cal had told her to go home if anything happened. She grunted, her own version of a frustrated scream. It was time to go.

After making sure she was alone, Lara wiggled, painfully slowly, to push the blanket and dirt away from her face. She opened her eyes slightly, afraid they might burn again. Thankfully, although they were still dry, they barely hurt this time, so she dared opening them all the way and look at the orange and pink streaked sky above her. Dirt loomed over her from every side, making her shudder.

The smell of essential oils was still strong, reminding her to drink the remaining potion first. She tried to sit, pulling herself up a bit and falling back down almost right away. She groaned, frustrated by her lack of strength and coordination. Her next attempts ended the same way. She kept trying, pulling as hard as she could with her left hand and pushing with her feet and legs against the sides of the coffin until she could finally sit.

Her right hand was still asleep, her fingers frozen in place, so she shook her arm to restore circulation. Her joints cracked painfully with each movement, making her wonder how long she'd been dead. She inspected her hands closer. The rising sun revealed a dark, purplish marbling pattern on her skin and blackened fingertips. She let out a surprised grunt. How could she be alive and yet look like this? Was she going to rot alive? She started shaking uncontrollably. She had to hurry and go home. If anyone saw her like this, she and Cal would meet a very painful, exemplary death. There would be no lies strong enough to convince any lawmaker that she wasn't a dead person walking. At least, if they only found an empty coffin, Cal could argue that he had sent her body to her parents.

Carefully, she picked up the small green bottle that Cal had placed next to her arm. It had to help with her appearance. Her left hand was shaking as she raised it to her mouth and swallowed the thick liquid quickly, closing her eyes.

She coughed and scrunched her nose. The taste was so intense that it left her tongue tingling and burning. The aftertaste was even worse, making her heave a few times. The fiery sensation spread quickly, tickling her nerves and chasing away part of the stiffness. She breathed in deeply and opened her eyes.

A glint near her left leg caught her attention. A deep blue shard of glass the size of her palm lay on the blanket. Eyes wide, she reached for it. The part that used to form the inside of the bottle glistened with a thin layer of oil. She grunted happily. She might not have the second potion anymore, but now she had some drops of it. Surely, it would still help her become normal or even just run away more easily. Without hesitation, she licked the oil. She shuddered at the taste, then forced herself to lick the potion off of two of the bigger shards that had fallen on her, careful not to cut her tongue.

Feeling a bit better, she closed her eyes and tried again to use Dragon-Magic. Self-healing was usually pretty easy and although she doubted it would take away the discoloration, it would make climbing out of her grave easier. However, no matter how hard she tried, nothing happened. It felt as if she were sitting in a void. She opened her eyes, confused. She'd always been excellent at controlling her powers. Could death have taken away her gift? She tried again, in vain.

Giving up, she looked for anything else that could help. The bottom of her coffin was covered in salt, most likely to delay decomposition. The symbols Cal used to keep food fresh longer, conserve energy, and protect their house were also painted on every available surface. Cal had to have added them before she was buried, already planning to bring her back. Lara sighed. Those things couldn't help in her current situation.

Once she was sure there were no more glass shards in her coffin, she got ready to go. She managed to put the blanket on her head and shoulders, hiding her telltale skin in case someone saw her, then got up slowly. Her eyes darting in every direction, she made sure she was alone. Then, she climbed out of the coffin, pulling until she fell on the ground, grateful she hadn't been buried too deeply. She stood up slowly and fixed the blanket again. Her joints still cracked painfully with every movement, but it wasn't as bad as before drinking the potion.

Cal's yellow cargo bike was abandoned next to her grave, together with a shovel that sat on a pile of dirt. Next to it, half hidden under a bush, lay six plump hens in two small cages. They were placed on a thick layer of lavender, lifeless. Lara whimpered. Dragon-Magic used surrounding energy to work and Cal would have needed a tremendous quantity to make her come back to life. The lives sacrificed hadn't been enough, though. She bit her lip nervously, her breathing accelerating as she realized why she'd felt nothing but emptiness as she'd tried to self-heal. The grass, flowers, and trees around her grave were all dead. There was the price for her life. Even the soil had a gray tinge to it. Hiding what had happened would be impossible. She had to leave town before anyone noticed.

First though, she had to try to hide the most obvious signs of illegal magic. Making sure she was still alone, she let the blanket fall to the ground. She took a few uncertain steps and pushed the cages towards her open grave. She coughed and fell to her knees. With the time constantly ticking away at the back of her mind, she got up, ignoring her burning muscles, and continued pushing until the cages fell. Then, she started shovelling. Each movement hurt and she was way too slow, but she knew that giving up would mean condemning Cal.