Page 16 of Any More Questions for the Corpse?

“You saved my life,” she said.

“You saved mine first,” Mal replied. “I’ve got the head bump to prove it.” He rubbed the side of his head that had slammed into the dirt. Des slowly raised her right arm and felt it too.

“I bet that hurts,” Des said, tenderly moving her scarred arm back to her side.

“You have no idea …” Mal smiled and sighed, shaking his head, as if disapproving of his own facetiousness. “How’s the pain?”

“Getting worse …”

“Ah, I have something that might help, but I’m not sure if you’ll want it. One sec.” Mal disappeared, and returned a few moments later with a small cold bag filled with red liquid. “According to the USB, this should help with that.”

“You’re kidding,” Des said, grimacing at the sight of the blood bag. “I don’t want to drink some strange blood.”

“Hey, that’s my blood. I almost passed out donating that.” Mal passed her the bag. “Seriously though, this will help you get better. It’s how you grew your shoulder back.”

Des grimaced harder at the thought, but clearly the pain was getting worse, as the next thing Mal knew Des was slurping on the bag’s tube like a straw. He winced as she started drinking, expecting, well, expecting it to be a horrible experience that Des would hate.

“Mmm, this is good. You want some?” Des said, trying to pass the tube straw to Mal, who cringed backward. Mal watched as slowly her eyes changed from a piercing green to a piercing red.

“What does it taste like?” Mal said, trying and failing to hide his disgust.

“It’s sweet, like a syrupy orange juice.” Des smiled a bloody smile and went back to the bag.

“Are you feeling any better?” Mal said, concerned with how much she seemed to be enjoying it.

“I’m in less pain, but yeah, not so much. I have to get out of here.”

“About that. You have to stay away from direct sunlight for the next day, but after that I think you’re okay to move around outside again.” Mal gestured to the window; he’d piled several blankets over the curtains to try to block out the sun. “If you want a shower I can go get you some towels, then maybe you can try meeting my parents again?”

Des looked concerned and overwhelmed, remembering now what had woken her up.

“They’re skeletons?”

“Yeah, it’s a long story. I can tell you later, when you’re feeling better. But yes, they’re both skeletons.”

“They’re not going to try and steal my flesh?” Des said.

“No, they’re mostly harmless. Just takes some getting used to.” Mal remembered a period of his life from just after he’d brought them back that he’d labeled “The Sloughing.” Then promptly shoved those memories deep back inside himself.

“A shower sounds good. Maybe some food? Can I eat normal food?”

“Yes, yes you can. I’ll make some pancakes. Pancakes make everything better. I’ll put this back in the fridge if you’re done with it?” Mal retrieved the blood bag, noting that it was now half empty. He wondered how much more he’d be donating before this was all over. Des went for a shower, and Mal went to the kitchen to start on some food. He hadn’t realized yet, but he was absolutely famished.

While Des showered. Mal got to work in the kitchen. He was happy to see his father was now awake and his parents were using his father’s illusions to appear like they had flesh and skin. It was much nicer than looking at the raw bones underneath.

“I told you not to disturb her,” Mal said, getting ready to flip a pancake.

“Well I didn’t know that, did I? I just thought she might like a cup of tea.”

“You did know that, Mum, I spent twenty minutes last night explaining it to you before I went to bed. Boundaries, please, for the love of god.”

“We don’t have boundaries in this house, dear, you know that.” Mal did, unfortunately, know that, which is why he tried his hardest not to be in this house. It was a complicated relationship with a simple problem: He wanted boundaries, they did not. And as such, when he tried to present them with a reasonable, but new, wall, they would bulldoze right though it and pretend it wasn’t there.

It wasn’t long before Des returned. Mal had pointed her to one of the cupboards in his room that was filled with several sisters’ worth of clothes. Des found a T-shirt and jeans which made her look strangely normal to Mal, like seeing a battle-hardened warrior in a dressing gown. Not cop Des, or stalking you through the woods Des, but regular Des. Her eyes widened seeing his mum in the flesh. Mal whispered the word “illusion” as she sat down at the dining table.

“Sorry about the shock, dear,” Mal’s mum said. “Are you feeling better? Mal said you had an accident.” While Mal had explained parts of the situation to his parents, he hoped he had explained enough that they wouldn’t probe Des for further information. He had clearly overestimated their tact and underestimated their desire to snoop into his business.

“Yes, I’m feeling a bit better, thanks. Thank you for letting me stay here while I recover,” Des said, as Mal placed a freshly cooked pancake down in front of her. She tentatively took a bite. Mal had read that food should taste normal, but just a bit blander than before. He awaited her verdict.