One Foot in the Grave: An Almost Zombie story

Chapter Twenty-Seven: What Lies Beneath

"I have seen cats. I have not seen kittens. I have never cried over spilled milk, but I understand the concept of doing so." 

Okay, point taken. I've never cried over spilled milk, either. Well, maybe when I was a toddler, but certainly not in recent memory. "So will you go with me?"

He tilts his head at me. "Have you spoken to anyone else about this?"

"Of course not. Both Lydia and Father Moss would tell me I can't go. But I want to, Maxx. I want to see what's down there." 

"You will go with our without me," Maxx states. 

I nod. It's true. I will. "So will you come with me?"

"I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to go down there by yourself. But you need to understand that Father Moss and Lydia will be quite upset with you." He sneezes again. 

"Maxx, you do that a lot. Are you allergic to me, or something?"

He opens his mouth and his tongue lolls out. "I am allergic to your less than intelligent ideas, Isisss. But I like you, and I do not desire to watch you get injured by your choices." 

What a polite way of saying I'm a total idiot and have the worst ideas ever. Of course, that isn't going to stop me from doing exactly what I want. "I want to go downstairs." 

The dog sighs and lumbers to his feet. "Do you wish me to change my size first?"

It's an awkward shrug, but I manage. "I don't know. Do you think it's a good idea?"

"This is your venture, not mine." 

So I'm the one who gets to make all the decisions? Gee, thanks Maxx. I think aloud, "I have no idea where the entrance to downstairs is." 

He cocks his head at me. "That is a problem."

Yeah, it is. Father Moss' hearing is excellent; I'm pretty sure he'll hear me looking around. "Will you distract Father Moss while I see if I can find stairs or something?"

"You are using me as a blind." The hell hound states. 

"No, that's what I said," I reply. At least, I don't think that's what I said. Sometimes Maxx confuses me. "I just want you to talk to him."

"That is what a blind is, Isisss. I thought you graduated from your high school."

"I did," I protest. "But 'blind' usually means not being able to see, not a distraction." 

"You are missing the pint, which is that you wish for me to enable your deception."

Well, yeah. That's kind of the point of the whole conversation. "How else am I supposed to snoop?" 

"I would recommend investigating the small door on the side of the church," Maxx says. "It appears to be quite old and might contain what you are searching for.

I had no idea the church had secret doors, but then again, I've never walked all the way around it, either. It's pretty cool. 

"How do you know about the door? You said you've never been here before." 

His answer shocks me. "Callie told me." 

She did what?

"She's a cat." Trust me to state the utter obvious. I'm good at that. 

"She is a kitten. And I am a hell hound. We understand each other when I wish it." He quirks an eyebrow at me. "That is not all the time, however. She is young and has a young animal's mind and interests." 

Like adopting a perfect stranger in a cemetery. "You'll still come with me, right?"

He nods and gets to his feet. "I gave you my word." 

I'm abnormally relieved. If Maxx is there and something goes wrong - the halves break loose and come after me, for instance - I won't be alone. I may get blamed, but I won't get eaten. I hope. "Okay, let's go." 

We amble around the left side of the church first, the side farthest away from the cemetery. It's not particularly well-tended, either. Plants and roots grow upward from the ground in a massive tangle that kind of makes sense. It's vibrant, green, mossy, and so very, very alive. I wonder if that's exactly what Father Moss intended; a place where us undead could wander around and feel what we'll never be again. The weight of that settles itself in my chest, but it's not as heavy as it used to be. It's more like a fact than a burden. 

"See, there it is," Maxx says. 

I follow his gaze and yup. There it is. A small door with the biggest padlock and chain I've ever seen holding it shut. "How the heck am I supposed to get in there?"

"You have the vampire's strength," Maxx states. "Use it." 

"I've only got one hand," I retort. 

"Then pull on it with one hand," the hell hound practically sneezes his reply. 

Oh. Duh. Well, aren't I a bag of smart? I step forward and take the chain in my hand, feeling a lot like the Incredible Hulk. I yank, expecting it to fly apart like tin foil. 

The metal rings groan and squeal, but nothing else happens. The chain stays firmly together. How disappointing. I drop it and reach for the padlock. It looks way old and rusted through. I'm sure I'm in for a fight, so to speak, but the thing lives up to its looks and just disintegrates in my hand. A fine black powder rains down to coat my shoes and the chains sag open. Well, that was easy.