creeping toward me, I forgot about the other one until it flew at my face. I saw it coming—then saw its sunken eyes, bloody stumps of ears, and bone showing through patchy fur. Another zombie bat.
I slammed back into the crates. My hands sailed up to ward the bat off, but too late. It hit my face. I screamed then, really screamed as the rotted wings drummed me. The cold body hit my cheek. Tiny claws caught in my hair.
I tried to smack it away. It dropped. As I clapped my hands to my mouth, I felt something tugging at my shirt. I looked down to see the bat clinging to it.
Its fur wasn’t patchy at all. What I’d mistaken for spots of bone were wriggling maggots.
I pressed one hand to my mouth, stifling my screams. With my free hand, I swatted at it, but it clung there, rows of teeth opening and closing, head bobbing like it was trying to see me.
“Chloe? Chloe!” Liz raced through the outside wall. She stopped short, eyes going huge. “Oh my God. Oh my God!”
“G-get it off. P-please.”
I whirled, still swatting at the bat. Then I heard a sickening crunch as I stepped on the other one. When I wheeled, the one clinging to me fell off. As it hit the floor, Liz shoved the top crate off a stack and it fell on the fallen bat, the thud drowning out that horrible bone-crunching noise.
“I—I—I—”
“It’s okay,” she said, walking toward me. “It’s dead.”
“N-n-no. It’s…”
Liz stopped. She looked down at the bat I’d stepped on. It lifted one wing feebly, then let it fall. The wing twitched, claw scratching the concrete.
Liz hurried to a crate. “I’ll put it out of its misery.”
“No.” I held out my hand. “That won’t work. It’s already dead.”
“No, it’s not. It’s—” She bent for a closer look, finally seeing the decomposing body. She stumbled back. “Oh. Oh, it’s—It’s—”
“Dead. I raised it from the dead.”
She looked at me. And her expression…She tried to hide it, but I’ll never forget that look—the shock, the horror, the disgust.
“You…,” she began. “You can…?”
“It was an accident. There was a ghost pestering me. I—I was summoning him and I must have a-accidentally raised them.”
The bat’s wing fluttered again. I dropped beside it. I tried not to look, but of course I couldn’t help seeing the tiny body crushed on the concrete, bones sticking out. And still it moved, struggling to get up, claws scraping the concrete, smashed head rising—
I closed my eyes and concentrated on freeing its spirit. After a few minutes, the scratching stopped. I opened my eyes. The bat lay still.
“So what was it? A zombie?” Liz tried to sound calm, but her voice cracked.
“Something like that.”
“You…You can resurrect the dead?”
I stared at the crushed bat. “I wouldn’t call it resurrection.”
“What about people? Can you…?” She swallowed. “Do that?”
I nodded.
“So that’s what Tori’s mom meant. You raised zombies at Lyle House.”
“Accidentally.”
Uncontrollable powers…
Liz continued. “So it’s…like in the movies? They’re just empty, re-re—What’s the word?”
“Reanimated.” I wasn’t about to tell her the truth, that necromancers didn’t reanimate a soulless body. We took a ghost like Liz and shoved her back into her rotting corpse.
I remembered what the demi-demon said, about me nearly returning the souls of a thousand dead to their buried shells. I hadn’t believed her. Now…
Bile filled my mouth. I turned away, gagging and spitting it out.
“It’s okay,” Liz said, coming up beside me. “It’s not your fault.”
I looked at the box she’d shoved onto the other bat, took a deep breath, and walked to it. When I reached to move it, she said, “It’s dead. It must be—” She stopped and said in a small, shaky voice. “Isn’t it?”
“I need to be sure.”
I lifted the box.
Sixteen
T HE BAT WASN’T DEAD. It was—I don’t want to remember it. By that point,
I slammed back into the crates. My hands sailed up to ward the bat off, but too late. It hit my face. I screamed then, really screamed as the rotted wings drummed me. The cold body hit my cheek. Tiny claws caught in my hair.
I tried to smack it away. It dropped. As I clapped my hands to my mouth, I felt something tugging at my shirt. I looked down to see the bat clinging to it.
Its fur wasn’t patchy at all. What I’d mistaken for spots of bone were wriggling maggots.
I pressed one hand to my mouth, stifling my screams. With my free hand, I swatted at it, but it clung there, rows of teeth opening and closing, head bobbing like it was trying to see me.
“Chloe? Chloe!” Liz raced through the outside wall. She stopped short, eyes going huge. “Oh my God. Oh my God!”
“G-get it off. P-please.”
I whirled, still swatting at the bat. Then I heard a sickening crunch as I stepped on the other one. When I wheeled, the one clinging to me fell off. As it hit the floor, Liz shoved the top crate off a stack and it fell on the fallen bat, the thud drowning out that horrible bone-crunching noise.
“I—I—I—”
“It’s okay,” she said, walking toward me. “It’s dead.”
“N-n-no. It’s…”
Liz stopped. She looked down at the bat I’d stepped on. It lifted one wing feebly, then let it fall. The wing twitched, claw scratching the concrete.
Liz hurried to a crate. “I’ll put it out of its misery.”
“No.” I held out my hand. “That won’t work. It’s already dead.”
“No, it’s not. It’s—” She bent for a closer look, finally seeing the decomposing body. She stumbled back. “Oh. Oh, it’s—It’s—”
“Dead. I raised it from the dead.”
She looked at me. And her expression…She tried to hide it, but I’ll never forget that look—the shock, the horror, the disgust.
“You…,” she began. “You can…?”
“It was an accident. There was a ghost pestering me. I—I was summoning him and I must have a-accidentally raised them.”
The bat’s wing fluttered again. I dropped beside it. I tried not to look, but of course I couldn’t help seeing the tiny body crushed on the concrete, bones sticking out. And still it moved, struggling to get up, claws scraping the concrete, smashed head rising—
I closed my eyes and concentrated on freeing its spirit. After a few minutes, the scratching stopped. I opened my eyes. The bat lay still.
“So what was it? A zombie?” Liz tried to sound calm, but her voice cracked.
“Something like that.”
“You…You can resurrect the dead?”
I stared at the crushed bat. “I wouldn’t call it resurrection.”
“What about people? Can you…?” She swallowed. “Do that?”
I nodded.
“So that’s what Tori’s mom meant. You raised zombies at Lyle House.”
“Accidentally.”
Uncontrollable powers…
Liz continued. “So it’s…like in the movies? They’re just empty, re-re—What’s the word?”
“Reanimated.” I wasn’t about to tell her the truth, that necromancers didn’t reanimate a soulless body. We took a ghost like Liz and shoved her back into her rotting corpse.
I remembered what the demi-demon said, about me nearly returning the souls of a thousand dead to their buried shells. I hadn’t believed her. Now…
Bile filled my mouth. I turned away, gagging and spitting it out.
“It’s okay,” Liz said, coming up beside me. “It’s not your fault.”
I looked at the box she’d shoved onto the other bat, took a deep breath, and walked to it. When I reached to move it, she said, “It’s dead. It must be—” She stopped and said in a small, shaky voice. “Isn’t it?”
“I need to be sure.”
I lifted the box.
Sixteen
T HE BAT WASN’T DEAD. It was—I don’t want to remember it. By that point,
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