Page 52 of Any More Questions for the Corpse?

A sickening panic filled Mal’s mind. The ruby rose into the air, the black ooze flowing with it, writhing and clawing. Mal saw the same shapes and monsters that formed in his shadows permeate through the ooze. His had only ever been figments, shadows of creatures in the dark. Mazino’s were real. The ooze thickened around the ruby and started pulsing, beating. There was a flash of blue where lightning struck the night and a visage formed with the beating ruby as its heart. A ghostly shadow stood staring at Mal. Smiling. Laughter pushed its way through the sound of the rain as the grin on Mazino’s face roared. The ooze molded itself to his form, a writhing mass that followed his ghostly movements.

Mal felt his heart pounding. His vision narrowing. He couldn’t tell if his hands were numb from the panic or the rain. Now was not the time for this. Not again. He caught a shallow breath, holding it tight in his chest. Slowly he let it out, the warm air bleeding from his nostrils. He caught another, slowly in, slowly out. His heart kept pounding, his hands were still numb, but his world stayed solid. He dug in, stabbing his heels into the weeping ground. He had come here to stop Kosh, to confront this evil, his evil. He knew there was no running now.

Mazino laughed, his pale ghost readjusting to the world. After what felt like an eternity, the beast finally spoke.

“It’s stopped. It’s finally stopped. I’m free of that singing, jabbering jar. Do I have you to thank for that, boy?”

Mal froze, unsure of what to say or what on earth he was talking about.

“You are right to be awed. You have done me a fine service and now I shall reward you. You will learn from me, the grandest of the dead. What is your name, boy?”

“Galowin Madstone …” Mal found himself saying.

“Madstone, a fine name. Together we will shake this world. Together we will bring ruin to all who oppose us. Together … why you are looking at them?”

It seemed at this point that Mazino finally took in the scene. Kosh lying dead, everyone looking terrified and battered, Walters holding a jar containing a pendant. Mazino did not seem amused.

“So you’re not …”

Mazino let out a long, deflated sigh, then casually gestured at Mal, sending a pulse of clawing ooze in his direction. Mal was quick enough to react, raising his arms to block, but he wasn’t prepared for the sheer force required to hold the blast at bay. It felt as if he’d somehow caught a falling house and was now desperately trying not to get crushed by it. The blast itself had stopped mere centimeters from him, the creatures within clawing at the invisible wall Mal had erected. Mal hadn’t needed to search his feelings this time; somehow it had all been instinct. Mal felt the white circles glowing from his eyes, barely shining in the darkness. Mazino stared at him, seeming less than unfazed. He tilted his head, as if to say Curious, then waved another hand. A flash of blue struck out in the darkness, emanating from Mazino.

Someone behind Mal screamed, “Nooo.” Mal thought it sounded like Des, but he was too focused on the creature in front of him to turn around. The bolt stopped—again, mere centimeters from him—joining the oozing blast. Mal was still trying desperately not to be crushed, but he managed to move his head enough to see a new face in the fray.

Taran had materialized by his side. His eyes glowed and crackled with lightning. His drenched blue robe flapped in the wind as he held the bolt in limbo for a moment, then sent it back at Mazino. Mal felt the weight he was holding lessen, as Mazino was forced to deal with the returning bolt. Mazino took a false breath, then the earth around them erupted.

Bones rattled in their piles. Graves burst into clouds of dirt. The dead were back, a viscous ooze cementing their bones together, giving malice to their movements. The groaning grind of bone on bone churned through the rain. Heavy, clunking footsteps followed. The crushing weight disappeared. Mal felt a flood of relief as he lowered his arms, exhausted from the strain. He looked around to see hundreds of undead surrounding him and his friends, and Walters was one of them. Glazed over. No longer himself. Mal watched all their work be undone as Walters’s body threw the jar to the ground. The jar containing Kosh. Never bring a dead guy to a necromancer fight.

Another blast rang out, both lightning and darkness. This time the black ooze wasn’t aimed at Mal, but at Taran; the lightning bolt, however, had come crackling toward Mal. Taran halted the bolt, Mal pushed back against the ooze, each saving the other. Mal felt his shadows push forth, turning his arms into writhing blackness, revealing the bones beneath. Mazino smiled even deeper, then twisted his hands and ratcheted up the pressure. Mal thought he might pass out from under the strain of it all. As the footsteps of the dead got louder, Mal managed to muster a single word of warning to his friends: “Run.”

Hala didn’t need any encouragement. Gripping tight to the beanbag gun, she dodged under the arms of an ambling corpse and fired a beanbag into its rib cage; its bony arms flew off in separate directions. She found herself running into the only space that wasn’t filled with the walking dead. She felt her feet fighting for traction as she ran, fumbling through the grass and the mud. She was well past being soaked to the bone, so she didn’t notice the puddles as she stomped water into the air. She emerged on the empty dirt road they’d walked in on. She turned and blasted a skeleton that got a bit too close for comfort. Several dozen more were still coming toward her; she had only a few seconds to think. Someone should be here. Had no one else gotten out?

Elaine, Hala thought. Maybe she’d already run off.

The beanbag gun was starting to get heavy in her hands; Hala wondered how many more bags it had in it. Maybe it had magical ammo too? She fired another and struck an approaching skeleton about its skull, knocking its body into several others that were following. Hala took a moment to think, What now? Just run off? No. There wasn’t any way to help Mal, but Yu and Des were in that mess somewhere. She had look for them. She had to do something.

Hala dug into her feelings, wading through her panic and fear until her emotions faded into the distance. She steadied herself and focused. She could barely look at Mal and Mazino. Rage and fear and pain exploded from their fray, desperation surging within Mal. She stoked some hope within him and watched as he stood a bit taller by Taran’s side.

She scanned the bodies ambling toward her, no feelings in them. Except for one that pulsed with a quiet helplessness—Walters. He was stuck in one of those things, unable to control what remained of himself. Hala focused. Somewhere in there was someone she could help. Someone sprung to life, scared, and full of rage. Kosh. He’d gotten free. That bastard was escaping.

Hala felt another flare of emotions. Elaine. Running out of the melee, chasing after Kosh. She was going to get herself killed and it seemed Elaine knew it. Hala could feel that part of her, a reckless abandon that screamed, “I am willing to die to put this right.” Hala dropped her powers and ran.

The dirt road crunched beneath her as she ran parallel to the chaos. She watched Kosh break through a wooded boundary at the far end of the graveyard, Elaine scrambling through after him. She passed the boundary and clambered over the separating wall, finding herself in an open field. Kosh, a sickly white beacon, was running with everything he had. Elaine, sopping wet and cursing, sprinted after him. Hala gave chase. She had to save her. Had to save someone. Kosh slowed, trying to pry the anti-jump cuff off his arm. Elaine collided with him, knocking them both into the dirt.

“You monster, you did this to him. How could you!”

Elaine’s words were muffled by the rain. Limbs tangled as they clashed on the ground. Eventually, there was a pop and the two separated. As Hala got close she could see why. They stood a few meters apart, Kosh with his one good hand raised, gun pointed at Elaine. Hala aimed the beanbag gun again and pulled the trigger. Click. Nothing happened. Hala dropped it and dove into her feelings.

“Just leave me alone,” Kosh yelled through the rain.

“NEVER.”

Hala grabbed hold of Elaine, she could sense her desperation to throw herself at Kosh. To stop him for what he’d done. Hala looked for the fear within her and stoked it. Elaine pulled back and Hala put herself between the pair.

“You, you fucking children, just let me live my life!”

Kosh raised his gun with purpose. Hala twisted her hand as if twisting the feelings within him. She’d only stoked the flames of fear in Elaine; what she did to Kosh was closer to pushing him into a bonfire of guilt. Kosh swayed as his decaying body churned with emotion. He buckled and vomited chunks into the earth. Kosh waved his gun wildly in desperation. Hala turned to Elaine.

“You don’t have to do this.”