One Foot in the Grave: An Almost Zombie story

Chapter Thirty-Seven: I Kind of Wanted to Eat That...

I pack my bag. It's not like I have that much to take, but I'm still procrastinating as long as I can. I don't much relish the idea of sleeping in a cage, whatever the reason. Maybe the dreams'll go away by themselves. I sigh. Yeah, I don't really believe it, either.

"You have to go," Noelle reminds me. She's sitting on my couch, watching me stuff clothes into an old backpack.

"I know, I know." I pull the drawstring tight. "I'm just sorry I didn't get to see Maxx first." The hell hound hasn't shown up for his daily 'walkies'. I wonder what's up with that.

"You don't think you'll see him at The Blood Bank?"

"I have no idea. I hope so. But maybe he's busy herding souls or something." Or eating his weight in Chicken McNuggets. That's always a possibility, too.

"You're delaying."

"I know!" I first snap, then apologize. "I'm sorry. It's just..."

"Do you want me to come with you again?"

I'm surprised she offers. "No. Not a chance. What if I turn...y'know...evil?"

"You'll be in a cage," the half-fae says. "I won't be in any danger."

"It's not just that," I respond. "It's embarrassing. I mean, it could be. I just...I appreciate it, Noelle, I do, but no."

"All right, I'll be at the church when you guys finish." She walks to the door, opens it and turns back to me for a minute. "Good luck, Isis."

"Thanks." I take a deep breath and grab my backpack. "Wait up. I'll walk down with you."

We walk to the elevator together.

"Can you transport yourself wherever you want?" Noelle asks once the elevator doors swoosh shut behind us.

"No. Maxx says it has something to do with how much I want to be somewhere. And before you ask, I can't transport myself to Nacelles. I don't particularly want to be there, remember?"

She throws her hands up in the air, laughing.

The elevator grinds itself to a halt and the door opens. We both step into the foyer. "Thanks for going with me," I say. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"I hope so." She winks at me before walking through the foyer and out the double doors of the apartment building.

The same taxi that had taken us from the church to the club and back again is waiting at the curb, as requested. I have no idea what kind of special arrangement the service has with Father Moss, or how he's paying the fares, but it must be awesome. I stride over to the bright yellow cab and get in.

"I need to go back to the club," I say.

"Sure thing," the cabbie replies. He puts the car into gear and eases into the light Atlanta traffic.

I close my eyes for a moment. I can't believe I'm doing this.

"You can trust him, you know." The cab driver says.

I open my eyes. "Trust who?"

"Nacelles Caldmer. You can trust him." The cabbie smiles into the rearview mirror.

"How do you know who I'm going to see?" I inch toward the door, wondering how much it'll hurt if I throw myself from a moving car.

He laughs. "You halves aren't as insulated from the real world as you think you are. We're familiar with the lich and his doings."