The Vampire's Photograph (23 page)

“Who,” said Dean, “would do this?”

“Well, it's probably one of your relatives or something.” Oliver tried to sound upbeat. He wasn't feeling that way inside, but until he could find out more about the master-zombie relationship, it seemed like he should try to help Dean adjust, rather than freak him out more. “I mean, maybe they're waiting for the right time to tell you, so you're not overwhelmed.”

“
Mmm
,” Dean grunted.

Oliver decided to leave the topic. Dean seemed unhappy enough. Telling him that he was likely somebody's servant probably hadn't helped. “You have some supernatural powers now,” Oliver offered, trying to cheer him up. “You can probably jump farther and stuff.” In the brief time Oliver had known the living Dean, he had seemed like a hard-luck kid. Not so coordinated, kind of scared of things—maybe being a zombie would be better for him.

“Guess,” Dean muttered.

“There's other cool zombie stuff, too,” Oliver added. “Um … fire doesn't hurt you, and you'll never die.”

“I just did.”

“Well, yeah, but … you know what I mean. Zombies are even more eternal than vampires.” Oliver stopped there, deciding not to mention that zombies could easily be destroyed by having their heads chopped off or being dropped into a vat of salt, or the more disturbing fact that because of all the skin decay and bacterial problems that zombies usually had, the older ones ended up as merely skeletons.

“I can get you something to clean your hands,” Oliver said instead. Most of what was on Dean's hands wasn't actually dirt but mold and bacterial blooms. Vampires had products for that. And there were creams for hiding skin rot, though nothing truly strong enough for zombies, who got it way worse.

“Thanks,” Dean said.

Oliver tried to think of what else to say. “You've done a good job with the smell.”

“Oh, thanks.” Dean almost smiled. “Yeah, that's my mom. She's
obsessed
with that.”

Oliver was surprised by this. “Your parents know you're back?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I mean, where else was I supposed to go after I dug out?”

“Well …” Oliver was pretty sure that most zombies would have gone straight downtown and found other zombies to live with. Zombies tended to dwell in large pods, usually in abandoned tunnels or warehouses, though Oliver had heard that there was a particularly large pod beneath the Seahawks stadium. Zombies were huge fans of rough sports like American football and pro wrestling, which vampires had little interest in.

“My parents were a little freaked out at first,” Dean said matter-of-factly. “My brother was okay with it, my sister not so much … but my dad tried to kill me with a pitchfork.” He rubbed his shoulder. “That hurt.”

“Ouch,” Oliver agreed.

Dean huffed. “I know, right? My mom just screamed and cried for a couple days, but now they're kind of coming around.”

“That's nice,” said Oliver. “It's nice that you have them.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “Mom's been all about helping me mask the smell, and she's done a ton of research, you know, on things like sand baths, so my skin decay doesn't get worse. And she's been trying, with the meals. She buys whole animals now, so I can have the …”

“Brains,” Oliver finished.

“Yeah.” Dean sighed. “And organs, too. Raw. She's getting all into which kinds are the healthiest.”

“My mom's like that about healthy eating, too.”

Dean sighed. “Thing is, she's not very good at preparing them, yet, so …”

“So,” Oliver guessed, “you've been getting food from our place.”

“Sorry.”

“It's fine,” said Oliver.

“On the bright side, I guess we can hang out more.” Dean offered Oliver a hopeful look.

“Yeah,” Oliver agreed.
How's that going to look?
he wondered. From hanging out with humans to hanging out with zombies. Yet he
had
gotten Dean killed—maybe it was the least he could do. And he didn't really have anyone else he wanted to hang out with these days. “But shouldn't you be hanging out with other zombies?” Oliver asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Dean's face fell. “
Them
. I don't know. I mean, my parents let me go out at night. They want me to make some friends, but …”

“You've been coming to my house instead,” Oliver finished.

“Yeah. I didn't know where else I could go and just, you know, be. Oh …” Dean rummaged in his coat and produced the newspaper clipping. “I'm sorry I took this,” he said, handing it back to Oliver. “I just liked the picture.” It was Dean's obituary, with his smiling school photo above it.

Silence passed over them. Oliver looked up and spied a bat weaving among the bridge rafters.

“Now I guess we just have to get Emalie to quit school and start staying up all night, right?” Dean said, again with that hopeful tone.

Oliver halted. “Um, does she—does she know you're back?”

Dean sighed. “No. I was thinking once I'd talked to you that maybe it would be easier if we went together. That way you could help her understand that I'm not dangerous?”

“Mmm …”
'cause she'd really trust me on that subject
, thought Oliver.

“We should go see her now,” said Dean enthusiastically. “It's almost dawn. We could wake her up and—”

“Ooh, um, let's wait,” Oliver interrupted, his thoughts racing. “I haven't actually seen her since you died.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Well …” Oliver wondered what to say next. “She was pretty upset about losing you. She didn't really want to see anyone. I've been trying to give her space.”

“But now I'm back!” Dean's eyes lit up. “Come on, let's just go spring it on her. She'll probably think it's cool!”

Oliver was so tempted by the idea. “How about,” he said carefully, “we go check in on her first, you know, see how she's doing? And wait until she looks like she's in a really good mood. 'cause, you know, it's a lot to take, meeting a zombie, even if it's you.”

“You mean spy on her?” Dean eyed Oliver sideways.

“W-well—” Oliver stammered. “Not really spying. More just watching—”

But Dean just shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “Sounds like a plan.” The idea might have bothered a human, but not a zombie, even a reluctant one. “How about tomorrow night?”

Oliver felt a surge of excitement and worry at once. “All right.”

They sat for another minute.

“Hey, check it out,” Dean said finally.

Oliver followed his pointing arm toward Capitol Hill, to the east. The sky was shading from black to gray.

“Time for bed, for us nocturnal creatures,” Dean said almost happily, patting Oliver on the back. “Hey, your name: Nocturne. I get that now.”

Oliver nodded, feeling awkward and yet fine. This was fine. Zombie Dean.…

They stood up. “So,” said Dean, “see you tomorrow night?”

“Yeah,” said Oliver. “See ya.” He started home, then turned and watched Dean stalk off into the shadows. Dean was back. The only question was: Why?

Chapter 3

Stalking

EARLY THE NEXT EVENING
, Oliver awoke with a start, a strange dream fresh in his mind. He was with Dean and Emalie, walking down the school halls. Dean was a zombie. It was one of those weird, jumbled dream worlds around them. The spray-painted neon grotesqua was glowing on the walls, but sunlight that seemed too red streamed in through the windows. And the floor was made of grass. Standing on either side of them were Oliver's classmates, leering silently. Despite that, Oliver, Emalie, and Dean were joking around, until they reached the door to the gym.…

Dean reached forward and pushed it open. “
I'm going to find out, you know
,” he said to Oliver with a smile.

Inside, they found everyone else from the night of Dean's death, standing frozen in place. The kids were huddled together. The Emalie and Dean from that night were with them. Bane and his friends Ty and Randall were there, too.

“
Everyone, take your places
,” said the Emalie standing with Oliver. She was dressed in black and seemed to be standing in a shadow. Oliver couldn't tell where it was coming from. It was like the lights had been dimmed, but only around her.

“
Come on, Oliver
,” Dean said, lying down on the floor.

Suddenly the dream blurred and Oliver was about to bite Dean, his face inches away from Dean's neck. Oliver could hear the blood pumping— “
Oliver, no!
” Dean screamed, just like he had that night.

Oliver struggled to look to the door, where Bane's friend Randall was keeping guard. “
No!
” Oliver shouted. “
Just hold on! I don't kill you, that's not what happens!
”

Oliver even heard the echoing, ancient voice of Illisius in his head: “
Oliver, don't fight it, my boy. It's time.
…”

But then Emalie shouted: “
Freeze it right there!
”

Things blurred again, and Oliver found himself suspended in midair above the scene, except his body was also below, still on top of Dean.

“
Where are you going?
” Emalie asked. She was gazing up at him, annoyed.

“
To Nexia
,” Oliver said calmly. He saw that the ceiling had been replaced by a pure black sky with liquid constellations and huge planets.

“
Have a nice trip!
” Dean called, waving, no longer upset.

“
No
,” Emalie said sternly. She had her arms out in front of her, and almost looked like she was pressing against the air. “
It's right here
,” she said, grimacing. “
There's something … but I can't … What are you?
” she shouted into space. As she did so, that dark shadow seemed to wrap around her again, like a cloud or something was clinging to her, but it was like she didn't notice it.

“
Oliver, check it out
,” Dean called. “
You killed me
.” Oliver looked down to find Dean lying on the floor alone. His neck had two red holes. Blood seeped across the floor.

“
No!
” Oliver shouted. “
I didn't do that!
”

Emalie looked up at him darkly. “
Yes you did. You do it every time. We all see it
.”

Oliver looked around to find every other person in the room staring at him coldly. “
No!
” he shouted.

“No!”

Oliver's eyes snapped open. He was in his coffin. There was no starry sky overhead, just the white satin fabric of his lid. He looked down to see that he'd tossed and turned himself out of his sleeping soil, but his shivers weren't coming from the cold …

It only took a moment to realize that sleep wasn't returning anytime soon. He listened, and when he heard only silence, he reached to the side of his coffin and grasped a polished wooden handle. The bolts that kept his coffin lid locked slid open with a series of quiet clicks.

All coffins still locked from the inside, since vampires usually slept deeply, and the daylight hours had traditionally been the best time for humans to stake them. This rarely if ever happened anymore, but coffins were still sold based not just on comfort (features like soil humidity regulation, satin interior thread count) but also safety (triple-bolt locks, fire-resistant finishes, garlic-proof odor seals). Oliver and his family had midlevel Morlock Tempurpedic coffins, from the SlumberStill series. The next line up, the HomeMausoleum, even had video surveillance and wireless servant-summoning technology. Oliver's coffin was the last junior size, and it did still have a hidden unlock button, which Phlox sometimes used if Oliver overslept, something that is likely to happen if you often don't fall asleep until it's nearly time to get up.

Oliver's lid quietly yawned open. He sat up, brushing a last bit of warm sleeping soil off his legs, then hopped down to the stone floor. Phlox and Sebastian's coffin was silent beside his, Bane's as well beyond that. The crypt was barely lit by tiny crimson magmalight night-lights at the base of each wall.

Oliver turned and knelt. His coffin was at waist height. Beneath it were two rows of dresser drawers. He opened the bottom one and rummaged through his school uniform shirts until his hands closed on a small object. It was a jewelry box made of ivory, its edges lined with pewter. Sebastian had once given Phlox a necklace in it. Oliver flipped open the box. Inside was a jumbled little trio of objects. Oliver brushed them out into an orderly row: the teardrop earring, the green hair elastic, and the crumpled note. They still smelled faintly of Emalie.

He had to find a way to prove that he hadn't killed Dean.…
Unless I really did
, he thought worriedly. That dream had made it seem like he really had. And what could he do now, anyway? Weeks ago, he'd searched through Bane's drawers and found no trace of that turquoise orb that he'd had with him that night. What other evidence was there? It seemed to be just his word against everyone else's.

He climbed back into his coffin, and much later the endless Saturday was finally through. Oliver trudged upstairs for breakfast. Bane was still asleep and Sebastian was gone. Phlox was on the phone when he entered the kitchen.

“I see. Well,
I'll
say that's strange. No— Francyne, no. You should stay home. I can get down there. It's no problem.”

Oliver sat at the kitchen island and found a goblet waiting for him, along with a pill of crushed herbs. He scowled at the pill, but forced it down as usual.

“All right,” Phlox continued, “I'll let you know what I find out. Mm-bye.” She hung up.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Oh.” Phlox almost jumped. “Oliver, I didn't hear you come up.”

“Sorry.”