The Laughing Corpse

“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.

Chapter 36

The third choice was being tied to a chair in the room where I woke up. It was the best of the three choices, but that wasn’t saying much. I don’t like being tied up. It means your options have gone from few to none. Dominga had clipped some of my hair and the tips of my fingernails. Hair and nails for her compulsion spell. Shit.

The chair was old and straight-backed. My wrists were tied to the slats that made up the back of the chair. Ankles tied separately to a leg of the chair. The ropes were tight. I tugged at the ropes, hoping for some slack. There wasn’t any.

I had been tied up before, and I always have this Houdini fantasy that this time I’ll have enough slack to wiggle free. It never works that way. Once you’re tied up, you stay tied up until someone lets you go.

The trouble was when they let me go, they were going to try a nasty little spell on me. I had to get away before then. Somehow, I had to get away. Dear God, please let me get away.

The door opened as if on cue, but it wasn’t help.

Bruno entered, carrying Wanda in his arms. Blood had dried down the right side of her face from a cut above the eye. Her left cheek was ripe with a huge bruise. The lower lip had burst in a still bleeding cut. Her eyes were shut. I wasn’t even sure she was conscious.

I had an aching line on the left side of my face where Bruno had kicked me, but it was nothing to Wanda’s injuries.

“Now what?” I asked Bruno.

“Some company for you. When she wakes up, ask her what else Tommy did to her. See if that will persuade you to raise the zombie.”

“I thought Dominga was going to bespell me into helping you.”

He shrugged. “Gaynor doesn’t put much faith in her since she screwed up so badly.”

“He doesn’t give second chances, I guess,” I said.

“No, he doesn’t.” He laid Wanda on the floor near me. “You best take his offer, girl. One dead whore and you get a million dollars. Take it.”

“You’re going to use Wanda for the sacrifice,” I said. My voice sounded tired even to me.

“Gaynor don’t give second chances.”

I nodded. “How’s your knee?”

He grimaced. “I put it back in place.”

“That must have hurt like hell,” I said.

“It did. If you don’t help Gaynor, you’re going to find out exactly how much it hurt.”

“An eye for an eye,” I said.

He nodded and stood. He favored his right leg. He caught me looking at the leg.

“Talk to Wanda. Decide what you want to end up as. Gaynor’s talking about making you a cripple, then keeping you around as his toy. You don’t want that.”

“How can you work for him?”

He shrugged. “Pays real well.”

“Money isn’t everything.”

“Spoken by somebody who’s never gone hungry.”

He had me there. I just looked at him. We stared at each other for a few minutes. There was something human in his eyes at last. I couldn’t read it though. Whatever emotion it was, it was nothing I understood.

He turned and left the room.

I stared down at Wanda. She lay on her side without moving. She was wearing another long multicolored skirt. A white blouse with a wide lace collar was half-ripped from one shoulder. The bra she wore was the color of plums. I bet there had been panties to match before Tommy got hold of her.

“Wanda,” I said it softly. “Wanda, can you hear me?”

Her head moved slowly, painfully. One eye opened wide and panic-stricken. The other eye was glued shut with dried blood. Wanda pawed at the eye, frantic for a moment. When she could open both eyes, she blinked at me. Her eyes took a moment to focus and really see who it was. What had she expected to see in those first few panicked moments? I didn’t want to know.

“Wanda, can you speak?”

“Yes.” The voice was soft, but clear.

I wanted to ask if she was alright, but I knew the answer to that. “If you can get over here and free me, I’ll get us out of here.”

She looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “We can’t get out. Harold’s go

“I don’t believe in giving up, Wanda. Untie me and I’ll think of something.”

“He’ll hurt me if I help you,” she said.

“He’s pla

She blinked at me, but her eyes were clearing. It was almost as if panic were a drug, and Wanda was fighting off the influence. Or maybe it was Harold Gaynor who was the drug. Yeah, that made sense. She was a junkie. A Harold Gaynor junkie. Every junkie is willing to die for one more fix. But I wasn’t.

“Untie me, Wanda, please. I can get us out of this.”