One Foot in the Grave: An Almost Zombie story

Chapter Forty-Two: Vampire, Meet Thy Maker

I stare at the car, and grin. It's a full blown, honest to God hearse. As in a vehicle to transport the dead. I do like Nacelles' sense of humor.

"Ummm...where are we supposed to sit?" I ask. After all, this thing was not meant for vertical passengers.

"There are seats in the back," Nacelles says. "I had it converted."

Well, that's a relief. I do not like the idea of lying in a coffin built for two, or some other weirdness. Andrew and I sit on the super plush seats, which sink down even as they cradle us. This must be what it's like to have money to burn. I'm almost disappointed when Nacelles doesn't slide in next to us. I don't want his company, but I expect a driver. So maybe being rich doesn't make up for the fact that he's a living dead guy.

It only takes us around half an hour to get to our destination. And what a destination it is, too. We turn toward Towne Lake Hills North and it's like we're in Wonderland for adults. There are huge mansions; ginormous manicured yards and cars I've only ever seen in magazines. They line the driveways; Lamborghinis, Ferraris, even the kind of car James Dean crashed and died in. I mean, I'm talking crazy rich.

I'm not sure why, but I'm sure the house we're going to wind up at will be like the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland. It's not. It's a modest (considering what I've seen, anyway), castle. That's right, the Master Vampire, or whoever built it, decided a castle was the way to go...in the middle of Corporate Georgia. That takes some guts. And some very solid cash flow.

Nacelles parks the car on the cobblestone drive and turns in his seat. "Andrew and Isis, let me do the talking. Mikeal isn't particularly tolerant of outsiders."

Ummm...why'm I here, again? I nod. I'm not super excited by the idea of discovering whether a Master vamp can kill me...I'm already pretty sure he can.

"What're you going to say to him?" Andrew asks.

The lich sighs. "I plan on asking him to make an exception to his rule. I plan on asking him to spare your life."

"Do you think it'll work? I mean, will he do it?" I open the car door and get out, because it doesn't look like valets are going to come and escort us to the throne room, or wherever. I don't know. This whole thing just keeps getting weirder and weirder by the minute.

We trail Nacelles up to the huge wooden doors, where there's an honest-to-gosh bell pull instead of a doorbell. I'm not sure how it's not moldy and nasty, considering it's made of purple velvet, but it's not. Looks brand new. I yank on it, and hear...nothing. Huh?

"I don't think this works," I say.

"It works," Nacelles replies.

"Then why don't I hear anything?"

"Mikeal soundproofed his home."

The whole house? Errr...castle? "Why would someone even do that?"

"To contain the screams during parties," the lich says, as if it's not the creepiest thing in the whole, entire world.

Andrew blanches. I mean, whiter than white. Whiter than me. Pasty, even.

Oh my gosh. "And we're going in here? On purpose?" This sounds like a super lousy idea, the more I think about it.

Nacelles raises an eyebrow. "Do you have a better option?"

Darn.

Andrew takes a deep breath. It's weird, watching his chest rise and fall with unnecessary air. But I guess I can do the same. It's all a matter of perspective. "Okay. Let's do this."