One Foot in the Grave: An Almost Zombie story

Chapter Thirty-Three: Help! I Need Somebody

My landline rings early the next morning, and I mean early. I think even the birds are still asleep. I know I am as I scramble for the stupid thing, miss the end table and wind up on the floor, the phone lying next to me. Ugh. I grab it and bring it up to my ear.

"Hrug?" It's definitely not English and the voice on the other end sounds confused.

"Isis, is that you? It's Andrew."

I swipe my hand across my face in a vain attempt to clear away the nighttime cobwebs, not sure I heard correctly. "Excuse me?"

"It's Andrew." His voice is both rushed and hushed. "I really need to talk to you, Isis."

"You're out of your mind. There's no way I'm talking to you." I hang up.

The phone immediately begins to ring again. I snatch it up out of the cradle. "Seriously? Quit calling! You're going to wake up my mom."

"Then don't hang up on—"

I click the receiver down and unplug the cord attaching it to the wall. Unfortunately, my cell starts buzzing. I snatch it up and press the green 'talk' button. "Andrew," I growl, "I mean it. Stop. Calling. Me."

"Isis, you don't understand. They're hunting me."

That gets my attention. "Who're hunting you?"

"I don't know," he whispers. "But I think they want to kill me. Isis, please...didn't you get my letter?"

He sounds absolutely panicked, and my sluggishly beating heart melts just a tiny bit. "I did," I admit. "But you're still a jerk." My words don't have as much heat behind them as I might wish.

"I just loved you," he whispers.

"I'm half a zombie," I whisper back, mindful of my mom, sleeping soundly in the bed across the hall. "I had a life, Andrew. And you totally screwed that up."

"Look, I really need to talk to you. In person. Will you meet me?"

I tap my index finger on the bedspread. "Not alone," I finally say.

"Come to the church."

"The church? What're you doing at the church?"

"Hiding. Please, Isis."

I haul myself up off the floor and run my free hand through my hair. "I'll be there within the hour, Andrew." I click the phone off. I have no idea why I'm willing to help Andrew, but I am. It doesn't take me long to stagger to the bathroom, splash cold water on my face and cram myself into a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt. I roll my healed shoulder forward to make sure it won't fall off. Nope, I'm good to go. I grab my apartment keys and hurry out the front door, stuffing my cell into my front pocket. The faster I reach the church, the better I'll feel. I press the button for the elevator, grateful beyond belief that I'm alone. Thankfully, the elevator arrives on time, the door swooshes open and I step inside.

And stagger as my feet sink into damp soil. Where the heck did the dirt come from? In the split second it takes for the thought to form, the blue black of an early morning hits me full in the face. I blink my bone dry eyes, wishing once again for some blasted tears. My vision finally clears and I know where I am. Callie mews at me from her perch atop a stone angel's head. Yeah. I'm in the church cemetery. I just have no idea how I got here.

"Isisss, I did not know you could move through reality."

I'm surprised, but happy, to see Maxx. "I thought you were staying with Nacelles."

"I enjoy it here," the hell hound says. "And this is a solution which works for all of us, as I cannot stay at your apartment. Besides, Father Moss has chicken."

Of course he does. "Maxx, how did I get here?"

The big dog sneezes and my hair blows back in the wind he creates. "I already told you, Isis. You moved through reality."

"What do you mean?"

"What were you thinking about before you arrived?" He asks.

"That the faster I got to church, the..." my voice trails off. "Are you telling me I can teleport at will?" I have brief images of just appearing wherever I want, whenever I want. It would make sitting in traffic on Spaghetti Junction a thing of the past. How cool is that?

"Not exactly," Maxx says. "But the idea is similar. For instance, if you tried to teleport now, I doubt you would succeed. I believe it is based on the strength of your need, rather than the strength of your desire."

I frown. "I didn't know vampires could do that."

"In ancient times vampires were thought to be able to transform into bats," the hell-hound replies. "In reality, they simply relocated from one place to another. Since in those times, vampires chose to inhabit the same areas as bats, the assumption was a logical one."

Interesting. "So Ink gave me this ability?"

"Very likely," Maxx says. "She is quite old."

"But I can teleport?"

"Only when the need is great, it appears."

Well, darn, so much for no traffic travelling. "I'm here to – to speak to someone, Maxx."

"Ah, yes. Your errant boyfriend. The kitten you left here found him." Father Moss lands with a significant thump on the ground next to the hell hound.

"Hello, Isis." I hear Andrew from behind the stone angel Callie is perched on. "I'm glad you came."