The Laughing Corpse

Tommy looked surprised to see me. His hand went for his shoulder holster. I pushed on his shoulder and foot-swept his leg. He fell backwards and grabbed me as he fell. I rode him down, making sure my knee ground into his groin. His grip loosened enough for me to slip out of reach. There were sounds behind me from the room. I didn't look back. If they were going to shoot me, I didn't want to see it.

The hallway took a sharp turn. I was almost to it when the smell slowed me from a run to a walk. The smell of corpses was just around the corner. What had they been doing while I slept?

I glanced back at the men. Tommy was still lying on the floor, cradling himself. Bruno leaned against the wall, gun in hand, but he wasn't pointing it at me. Gaynor was sitting in his chair, smiling.

Something was very wrong.

Around the blind corner came that something that was wrong, very, very wrong. It was no taller than a tall man, maybe six feet. But it was nearly four feet wide. It had two legs, or maybe three, it was hard to tell. The thing was leprously pale like all zombies, but this one had a dozen eyes. A man's face was centered where the neck would have been. Its eyes dark and seeing, and empty of everything sane. A dog's head was growing out of the shoulder. The dog's decaying mouth snapped at me. A woman's leg grew out of the center of the mess, complete with black high-heeled shoe.

The thing shambled towards me. Pulling with three of a dozen arms, dragging itself forward. It left a trail behind it like a snail.

Dominga Salvador stepped around the corner. "Buenas noches, chica.»

The monster scared me, but the sight of Dominga gri

The thing had stopped moving forward. It squatted in the hallway, kneeling on its inadequate legs. Its dozens of mouths panted as if it couldn't get enough air.

Or maybe the thing didn't like the way it smelled. I certainly didn't. Covering my mouth and nose with my arm didn't block out much of the smell. The hallway suddenly smelled like bad meat.

Gaynor and his wounded bodyguards had stayed at the end of the hall. Maybe they didn't like being near Dominga's little pet. I know it didn't do much for me. Whatever the reason we were isolated. It was just her and me and the monster.

"How did you get out of jail?" Better to deal with more mundane problems first. The mind-melting ones could wait for later.

"I made my bail," she said.

"This quickly on a murder involving witchcraft?"

"Voodoo is not witchcraft," she said.

"The law sees it as the same thing when it comes to murder."

She shrugged, then smiled beatifically. She was the Mexican grandmother of my nightmares.

"You've got a judge in your pocket," I said.

"Many people fear me, chica. You should be one of them."

"You helped Peter Burke raise the zombie for Gaynor."

She just smiled.

"Why didn't you just raise it yourself?" I asked.

"I didn't want someone as unscrupulous as Gaynor to witness me murdering someone. He might use it for blackmail."

"And he didn't realize that you had to kill someone for Peter's gris-gris?"

"Correct," she said.

"You hid all your horrors here?"

"Not all. You forced me to destroy much of my work, but this I saved. You can see why." She caressed a hand down the slimy hide.

I shuddered. Just the thought of touching that monstrosity was enough to make my skin cold. And yet …

"How did you make it?" I had to know. It was so obviously a creation of our shared art that I had to know.

"Surely, you can animate bits and pieces of the dead," Dominga said.

I could, but no one else I had ever met could do it. "Yes," I said.

"I found I could take these odds and ends and meld them together."

I stared at the shambling thing. "Meld them?" The thought was too horrible.

"I can create new creatures that have never existed before."

"You make monsters," I said.

"Believe what you will, chica, but I am here to persuade you to raise the dead for Gaynor."

"Why don't you do it?"

Gaynor's voice came from just behind us. I whirled, putting the wall at my back so I could watch everybody. What good that would do me, I wasn't sure. "Dominga's power went wrong once. This is my last chance. The last known grave. I won't risk it on her."

Dominga's eyes narrowed, her age-thi

"She could do it, Gaynor, easier than I could."

"If I truly believed that, I would kill you because I wouldn't need you anymore."

Hmm, good point. "You've had Bruno rough me up. Now what?"

Gaynor shook his head. "Such a little girl to have taken both my bodyguards down."

"I told you ordinary methods of persuasion will not work on her," Dominga said.

I stared past her at the slathering monster. She called this ordinary?

"What do you propose?" Gaynor asked.

"A spell of compulsion. She will do as I bid, but it takes time to do such a spell for one as powerful as she. If she knew any voodoo to speak of, it would not work at all. But for all her art, she is but a baby in voodoo."

"How long will you need?"

"Two hours, no more."

"This had better work," Gaynor said.

"Do not threaten me," Dominga said.

Oh, goody, maybe the bad guys would fight and kill each other.

"I am paying you enough money to set up your own small country. I should get results for that."

Dominga nodded her head. "You pay well, that is true. I will not fail you. If I can compel Anita to kill another person, then I can compel her to help me in my zombie business. She will help me rebuild what she forced me to destroy. It has a certain irony, no?"

Gaynor smiled like a demented elf. "I like it."

"Well, I don't," I said.

He frowned at me. "You will do as you are told. You have been very naughty."

Naughty? Me?

Bruno had worked himself close to us. He was leaning heavily on the wall, but his gun was very steadily pointed at the center of my chest. "I'd like to kill you now," he said. His voice sounded raw with pain.

"A dislocated knee hurts like hell, doesn't it?" I smiled when I said it. Better dead than a willing servant of the voodoo queen.

I think he ground his teeth. The gun wavered just a little, but I think that was rage, not pain. "I will enjoy killing you."

"You didn't do so good last time. I think the judges would have given the match to me."

"There are no fucking judges here. I am going to kill you."

"Bruno," Gaynor said, "we need her alive and whole."

"After she raises the zombie?" Bruno asked.

"If she is a willing servant of the Seсora, then you are not to hurt her. If the compulsion doesn't work, then you may kill her."

Bruno gave a fierce flash of teeth. It was more snarl than smile. "I hope the spell fails."

Gaynor glanced at his bodyguard. "Don't let personal feelings interfere with business, Bruno."

Bruno swallowed hard. "Yes, sir." It didn't sound like a title that came easily to him.

Enzo came around the corner behind Dominga. He stayed near the wall as far from her «creation» as he could get.

Antonio had finally lost his job as bodyguard. It was just as well. He was much better suited to stool pigeon.

Tommy came limping down the hall, still sort of scrunched over himself. The big Magnum was in his hands. His face was nearly purple with rage, or maybe pain. "I'm go

"Take a number," I said.

"Enzo, you help Bruno and Tommy tie this little girl to a chair in the room. She's a lot more dangerous than she seems," Gaynor said.

Enzo grabbed my arm. I didn't fight him. I figured I was safer in his hands than either of the other two. Tommy and Bruno both looked as if they were looking forward to me trying something. I think they wanted to hurt me.

As Enzo led me past them, I said, "Is it because I'm a woman or are you always this bad at losing?"

"I'm go

"Later," Gaynor said, "later."

I wondered if he really meant that. If Dominga's spell worked, I'd be like a living zombie, obeying her will. If the spell didn't work, then Tommy and Bruno would kill me, a piece at a time. I hoped there was a third choice.