Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

CARLA

That was a zombie. An actual human zombie carrying her luggage. A zombie bellhop. The little red hat with gold braiding pushed the horrific into the absurd. How could she take any of this seriously when the zombie wore a bellhop hat, complete with chin strap?

The zombie—he—was a lot less gory than Hollywood led Carla to expect. No severed torso dragging themselves slowly across the ground, innards dragging in the dirt. No visible bite marks or wounds either, which made sense since Ari claimed the zombification was due to a fungus and not a virus.

From the front, he was just a dude with a sallow complexion, shuffling like he had a hangover, lugging a suitcase. Cloudy white eyes were the only clue that something wasn’t right. Then he turned around, revealing vivid green algae covering the back of his shaved skull. The growth trailed down his neck, disappeared under his shirt collar, and presumably continued down his spine.

Carla stared at the man, both horrified and fascinated.

Horrified because the algae growth made it that much easier to picture Poppy with her scales plucked from her head and covered in algae.

Fascinated because the zombie was human. Encountering a fellow human wasn’t so strange, although the ones she met were more often kept as pets than independent people. Humans were uncommon, not unicorns. But humans were valuable, both women and men. Wasting such a resource by turning them into a zombie was either a gross display of wealth or a pointed warning that anyone, no matter how valuable or useful, could fall into disfavor.

Either way, it spoke volumes about their host.

“Do not stare. It is impolite,” Ari said in a quiet tone, standing close. He had his wings tucked tight against his back, hidden from view, and didn’t look like himself. It was almost as surreal as a zombie porter.

“I think staring at him is the point.”

The zombie shuffled along the dock, one foot dragging slightly with each step. She couldn’t look away.

“Wear this,” the non-zombie said, handing Carla a flower with pink berries clustered close to the stem and long yellow petals that fanned out like tail feathers. The speaker, a Nakkoni, wore a crisp white suit with wide lapels over a white shirt, which looked far too heavy for the warm climate and gave Fantasy Island vibes. He had his own flower clipped to his lapel. “The pollen repels the infected.”

What was even happening? The entire situation was surreal. Ari’s ship docked at Tavat’s villain lair island, which was sadly lacking both volcanoes and skulls. It was just a boring tropical paradise, lush with greenery and undisturbed beaches. Yawn.

Plenty of armed guards, though. A concerning amount, really, and a bit more than she expected for the Welcome Wagon. They wore black armor that had to be broiling and visors that covered their eyes.

Carla forced a smile and tucked the flower behind her ear. At least the weather was sunny and gorgeous. She could use a change from the cold gray skies and the even colder gray ocean of the resort.

“My name is Kronkee,” the male said.

Carla snickered.

The lizard man’s quills went flat.

She faked a sneeze and scrubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “Sorry. Pollen. Allergies.”

Kronkee wasn’t buying it, but whatever. “Follow me,” he said, walking at a brisk pace down the gangway onto the dock.

He launched into a well-rehearsed speech, sounding almost bored. “Master Tavat welcomes you to his home. For your safety, please remain on the marked paths. Please wear your charveli blossom at all times when outdoors.”

A cart waited at the end of the dock on a dirt road. The zombie bellhop slung their bags into the back. Thick jungle growth pressed right up to the edge of the road.

“Stop,” a guard called, striding forward. He held a baton in one hand and pressed his other hand to the visor, as if controlling a screen. “Scans detect a package on the male’s back.”

“Those are my wings,” Ari said. He had them folded and tucked tight against his back. Before they docked, Carla had questioned him, but he gave a vague answer about hospitality.

“Remove your garment for inspection.”

“Sir, we are not acquainted like that.”

The guard was not amused. The baton sparked to life, crackling with energy.

Ari gave a dramatic sigh, unbuttoning his shirt. “I was being polite. Folding my wings means I feel safe. It’s a compliment.”

No one cared.

Something scurried in the corner of her eye. A flash of white in the greenery and it was gone. Carla took a step toward the undergrowth, intrigued.

A creature poked its head out from a cluster of leafy fronds. It had huge round eyes, round ears, and a head shape that made her think of a fox. Its skin was pale gray, which had to be horrible for camouflage, and it had frilly yellow petals on its neck, like the flower she wore.

Carla went still. It was cute, but that could be a trick. “Hey, guys, what’s this thing?”

No answer. Ari kept Kronkee and all the guards occupied.

The creature crept forward, leaves rustling as it inched forward.

Carla took a step back toward the cart and the people with shock batons. “Hey, cutie, you don’t want to eat my face. Please don’t eat my face.”

It darted forward and climbed up her pant leg, little claws digging into the fabric, and perched on her shoulder. A fluffy pink and white tail smacked Carla in the face. It was like being attacked with a duster. The creature chirped, grabbed the flower, and launched itself off her, back claws digging into her shoulder.

“Son of a bitch,” Carla hissed, clutching her shoulder. That thing was heavy.

The zombie at the cart lost interest in the luggage and headed for her, moving alarmingly fast.

Carla screamed, tripping over her feet and slamming into the ground. Gravel dug into her palms. She rolled over, scrambling back to avoid the looming zombie.

Up close, she could see a network of green veins that spread under his sallow skin. Saliva trickled from the corner of his dry, cracked lips. His mouth stretched open, revealing a mouth of yellow teeth and green globs.

Ari threw himself between her and the zombie. Fabric shredded as his wings sprouted, creating a barrier between Carla and the attacker. He raised his arm just as the zombie sank its teeth into him.

The guards finally did their job and zapped the zombie with the batons and got Ari as collateral. They didn’t seem too concerned, judging how neither of them even bothered to glance at Ari when he collapsed to the ground.

Rough hands dragged Carla to her feet. “What have you done?” Kronkee demanded.

She shook off his grip and rushed to Ari’s side. He was breathing and his skin wasn’t broken from the bite. “How contagious is that thing? Is Ari going to be okay?”

“Unfortunately. Khargals have thick skin.” Kronkee looked furious, his quills pressed flat against his skull. “You were told to wear the flower.”

“I did. This… thing, a fluffy little thief, took it.” She pointed to the trees, like the little thief was hanging around. Maybe it was.

“It was foolish of you to allow it to be stolen.”

Tearing into this guy seemed like a mighty fine idea, even though it ruined the ruse of her being a meek human pet. Ari’s groans distracted her long enough to get her temper under control.

“Thank you,” she said, helping him sit up. Rubbing her hand in the middle of his back between his wings, she reassured herself that her gargoyle remained bite- and scratch -free. She spoke to Kronkee. “You never answered me about how contagious that thing is.”

“The medics will examine him.” Kronkee clapped his hands—literally clapped his hands like this was some old movie. Then again, he was dressed like a budget -friendly Fantasy Island, so that scanned.

Still not an answer.

A bot arrived with a stretcher. Ari refused to climb on, insisting that he walk. Kronkee maintained that it was too far. Back and forth, blah blah.

They’d be there for hours with all the posturing and dick measuring. Better save them all some time.

“Can we not? I’m tired, and the sun isn’t helping,” Carla said. She climbed into the cart. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

She didn’t.

ARI

This was not the plan.

“I need to stay with Carla,” he said.

“You need to do as you’re told,” a guard said, slapping a cuff on his wrists. With the assistance of another guard, they took him by either arm and were not gentle as they forced him into a cart.

A female Nakkoni in a white coat approached. “Wow. You’re a big one.”

“Undo this,” Ari demanded, raising his bound hands.

“Hmm, no. Not until you get that bite checked out. Bites are very serious,” she said, her tone sing-songy like she spoke to a child.

Ari did not appreciate being patronized. Only Carla had permission to speak to him in such a manner. “I know that bites are very serious. I do not need to be restrained.”

“Hmm, you do. Until we know if you are infected, the cuffs stay.” The female gestured and the guards climbed into the cart on either side of him, making the space uncomfortably tight.

Ari flexed, twisting the metal, hoping to break them.

“None of that now.” The female dropped the singsong affectation. “Cease or be sedated.”

“Your needles will break?—”

Ari did not have a chance to finish his statement as a mask was slapped over his face. Sweet -smelling fumes clouded his senses, and he found himself lacking the motivation to move.

“My apologies. My phrasing made that sound like a choice. It was not.”