8. When a Plan Comes Together

Marie was lost in the opulence of Shirley’s hotel suite. The space sprawled out casually to a size that dwarfed most apartments in the city. The main room served as a lounge with plush couches and armchairs flanked by corner windows that looked out over the French Quarter and the river beyond. Four doors led to separate bedrooms, each with an adjoining bathroom. Bottles that cost more than an entire night of drinking were scattered about the room in various states of emptiness.

In her distraction, Marie didn’t notice the shorter man walking up to her. “I’m Lopsang.” He offered his hand, but there was an air of reserved suspicion about him.

Marie shook it. “Marie. You must be the one that ‘conned’ Nick into chasing after a yeti?” On the car ride over, Nick regaled her with several tales she suspected weren’t entirely based in fact. None were particularly believable, but they were enjoyable.

Lopsang nodded. “Yep, that’s about right. Although, it wasn’t that hard. Turns out all you need is a free plane ticket and the promise of ‘much money’ to pull him in.” Lopsang put on a heavy accent as he said the last words and laughed.

“In my defense, we were pulling tabloid jobs before that, and they didn’t pay!” shouted Nick from an adjacent room.

“More like you weren’t very good at negotiating,” corrected Shirley.

“Yeah, well, let’s just say we all earned our pay in those mountains.” A dark memory flickered across Lopsang’s face but quickly dispersed.

Marie wasn’t sure how to respond. She expected Lopsang to tell her the yeti story was a bit overblown, but he said nothing further. She turned to the young man standing beside him. “That would make you James?” She paused before continuing, hoping that what she said next wouldn’t also prove to be true. “According to Nick, you’re a recent resident of the Land of the Dead and were resurrected about a year ago?”

James nodded. “How long was that car ride? Usually, he saves the bit about my miraculous return until we’ve all had a few drinks to settle in.”

Shirley mixed herself a club soda and lime at the bar. “We hit traffic. Luckily, we were able to get here before Nick finished the story about killing your aunt and uncle with a harpoon gun.”

“Wow, that’s a deep cut. Haven’t heard him tell that one in a while.” James winced and took a long pull from a tumbler of brown liquid. “Not a great Christmas.”

Marie’s discomfort must have been plain to see because James quickly backpedaled.

“Oh, don’t worry, they’d been possessed by wendigos at the time. I was pretty raw about it at first, but really, it was for the best.”

“For the best?” asked Marie. Her head spun.

“Sure, wendigos are nasty customers. Psychic beings that possess your body like a skin suit. The harpoon did them a favor. Shirley, want to make me one of whatever that is with some kick to it?” He finished his drink and walked to the bar.

“I am a highly-trained government agent, not a bar t—”

“Pleeaase.” James put his hands out in mock prayer.

Shirley grimaced and pulled out a second glass. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Nick stepped out of his bedroom carrying two glass bottles and a single tumbler.

The rest of the crew looked up and let out a collective scoff of judgment.

“What? I couldn’t decide.”

The room remained silent.

“Oh, piss off. Do I need to remind you all that the drinks are free? Besides, traffic was hell.” He uncorked one of the bottles and tossed the stopper on the floor before making his way over to a window to pour his drink in solitude.

Marie felt strangely alone, standing in the center of the room while everyone went about their business. For a government operation, they weren’t exactly organized.

“It’s all a bit strange at first.”

Marie Jumped. Lopsang walked with near silent steps.

“You’ll get used to them.” He offered her a bottle of water. “We’ve all got our habits, but somehow things end up working out more often than they don’t.”

Marie took the bottle. “Thanks.”

James returned with a fresh drink. “Define ‘work out’. Some of us had to be brought back to life.” His hand moved to his stomach. “Shirley, I don’t know what this is, but it is delicious.”

“We did come back from you!” shouted Nick from across the room. He was perched on the windowsill, cradling the bottle like a long-lost child.

“That you did and went through Hell to do it.”

“Figuratively, but almost literally,” Nick corrected.

Marie took a drink of water, struggling to tell reality from fiction. It can’t all be true, right?

Shirley sat down at one of the couches in the center of the room and spread out a map on the main table. “Alright, as much as watching you all drink and reminisce is fun, we’ve got a job to do, and we need to go over the details before you’re all too deep in your cups.”

At the word cup, Nick took a long pull from his bottle and let out a sigh of relief. “Too late, but continue, I’m listening.” He leaned his head against the window, looking longingly at the night sky.

Lopsang joined Shirley on the couch and set his drink down. “For Nick, it is perpetually too late.”

Nick flapped a hand at Lopsang like he was shooing a fly.

“Come on, Marie, have a seat.” Shirley motioned to the couch.

Marie hadn’t noticed that she was standing still. Once more she was frozen in her mind, watching events play out. “Sorry.” She made her way over to the couch.

“Now that we’ve dispensed with the pleasantries, it’s time to get to work. The Sixth Side has us on a timetable to deal with this before they start sending in less clandestine means of operation.”

“Less clandestine? What is that supposed to mean?” asked James.

“Sounds like more corporate double-speak,” answered Lopsang, folding his hands over his chest. “We’re here on our own volition, Shirley, and we can walk away at any time, don’t forget that.”

Marie could feel the tension in the room and saw lines of frustration crease Shirley’s face.

“Look, I don’t have the authorization to tell you what they’re going to do, and I won’t. Suffice it to say, a whole lot of people are going to be a whole lot happier if we get this done the easy way.” She took a deep breath and then almost as an afterthought added: “If you all can put your bullshit hatred of The Sixth Side away for one minute, we have a chance to save thousands of lives here.”

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“The Sixth Side?” asked Marie.

Shirley shot Nick a glare that shut him up before he had a chance to cut in. “It’s the organization I work for. The name refers to the hidden sixth side of The Pentagon and before Nick says it, yes, it’s a stupid name. I don’t like it, but they pay the bills and didn’t put a bullet in my head when they had the opportunity. For that, I’m willing to give them a pass.”

Marie nodded, not entirely satisfied. “I’m listening.”

“Someone who’s engaged in a pre-mission briefing? Would you look at that.” Shirley smiled at Marie and in the same instant weaponized the expression towards the Nick on his windowsill perch.

“I resent emotional manipulation, Shirley.” With each passing jab, Nick’s words bordered further on incomprehensible.

“I’m sure you do, but it seems to be the only way to get through that booze-addled rag you call a brain.” Shirley returned her attention to the map and smoothed it over. There were several red dots set out at prominent cemeteries around the city. “These are the locations of the oddities we’ve come across so far. A bigger circle means more bodies. Each of these sites was hit within the last week.

“At first, what we found were shamblers, nothing a good whack from a two-by-four couldn’t take care of, but with each new incident, they’re getting stronger. Whoever this ‘Red Death’ is seems to be learning on the job.”

Ah, the good old days. Marie never thought she’d feel nostalgic for robbing tombs, but there was something to it. She loved the smell of a dusty mausoleum or the rustle of cemetery willows in the evening breeze. “They’re probably starting with the older mausoleums. Easier to crack through the plaster.” The words hung silent in the air for a moment. Marie felt her cheeks flush.

Shirley didn’t miss a beat. “And knowledge like that is exactly why we have you here. Well, that, and one other reason. We have to assume The Baron’s contract with you wasn’t a one-off.”

“The Baron?” asked Lopsang.

“Think of him like a Cajun devil,” answered Nick from the window. “Nasty bit of work.”

“Slimy son of a bitch,” added Marie.

“Right, The Baron contracted Marie here to release a known vampire. She’d been locked up for hundreds of years and ended up murdering a few cops on her way out the door. Also ended up getting our Marie here arrested for the crime.” Shirley paused, waiting for questions, but none came. “Nothing phases you people, does it?”

James shrugged. “I died. When you’ve seen what we’ve seen, you’re willing to take a lot on faith.”

“Fair enough. Nick and I are going to figure out where that vampire went and see if it has any connection to the rising undead in the city.”

“In my experience, Vampires have no motivations aside from raising other vampires,” burbled Nick. “They’re awful creatures, really. I want nothing to do with it.”

“It’s a shame I’m not giving you a choice. The only lead we have in the vampire community is an old friend of yours.”

Nick stood and glared at Shirley. “I’ve had enough of meeting old friends lately.” He held up his palm which bore a fresh circular tattoo. From a distance, it looked like a series of child’s scribbles.

“What happened with Martin is on you.”

“On me she says.” Nick took a swig from the bottle, forgetting the glass he had poured. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t have any vampire friends.”

“Oh? The name Jaques doesn’t ring any bells?”

Marie perked up. “Jacques? You can’t mean Jacques St Germain?”

“Jacques, don’t seem to remember a Jacques.” Nick thought about it, taking another long swig and swishing the liquid around in his mouth. After a gulp, his eyes lit up. “You mean Jackie?”

Shirley pulled a file out of her bag and leafed through it. “Yes, it says he sometimes goes by Jackie.”

“I take back what I said about the bloodsuckers. Jackie is a classy fellow and throws a hell of a party.”

“He’s also wanted for a hundred or so murders over the last few centuries, but I guess we’re going to let that slide.”

“Who isn’t?” Nick barely managed to keep the syllables from running into one another.

“Great, well now that Nick is on board with his half, let’s talk about the complicated bit.”

“Tracking down a famous vampire with a penchant for murder isn’t the complicated bit?” asked Marie.

“Unfortunately, no. Lopsang, James, and Marie, we need you looking for abominations in the city. We can’t be sure where Red Death is going to try their hand next, so it’s a bit of a crapshoot. Unfortunately, there’s no discernable pattern to their necromantic activity.”

“So, what are we supposed to do?” asked James. “Hop in a van, drive around the city, and hope we run into the walking dead?” The question wasn’t sarcastic so much as a clarification.

Marie looked down at the map and tried to discern a pattern. There wasn’t one, other than hitting old cemeteries. Unfortunately, there were plenty to choose from in New Orleans. “My only guess would be that they won’t hit the same cemetery twice.”

“Well, as it turns out, James isn’t that far off the mark. As Nick so delicately put it in the coffee shop earlier, we’re going to use you as a compass, Marie. Earlier, you spoke about your staff. If it was an object of power, you’ve likely still got a lingering connection to it.”

“Maybe,” replied Marie. It’s a bit more than lingering. Simply thinking about the staff filled Marie with longing. She could remember the fine grooves in its wood, the subtle vibration as she held it in her hand. It was a beautiful, deadly implement. They’re going to lead you back to it. Marie didn’t like the elation she felt at the thought. “I haven’t felt anything since I was released, but it’s worth a shot. When I had the staff, it did feel like there was some sort of pull. Like it knew where to go.”

You might be a little too trusting. The voice wasn’t hers. Marie shook it away.

Shirley nodded. “That fits with what we’ve seen before. You’re lucky to have your life and your sanity after handling something like that. I’ve run across people that couldn’t string a sentence together after holding one for less than a minute.”

Laveau still gives you strength. The voice in Marie’s head was familiar, dusty, and old.

Or I’ve just got better willpower than most, she replied. The conversation felt natural, even though she hadn’t heard the voice in years.

“So, who’s driving the van?” asked Lopsang, quickly tossing his bourbon to the side.

Shirley looked at both James and Nick who were well deep in their cups. “Well, once everyone’s sobered up in the morning…”

“I volunteer,” Lopsang practically shouted.

“Well, Marie, it’s been nice knowing you,” called Nick. “I’ve only let Lopsang chauffeur me once and it left me stranded in the South American jungle. Maybe he’s a better driver than a pilot, but if his lack of a license is any indicator…”

“You know I get test anxiety!”

“I was thinking James would drive,” amended Shirley. “He did such a fine job as the getaway driver when we first met.”

“I seem to remember that trip ending with quite a few bullet holes in my car.” James winced. “I loved that car.”

“And I keep telling you, we’ll buy you a new one, as soon as we get the funds.” Nick dropped his bottle to the floor and began the delicate process of retrieving the second without falling off his perch.

“After a certain amount of time, I’m going to stop believing that. Shirley, I hope you’ve got insurance on the van.”

“Look, I keep telling you, we’re going to get your savings sorted. We just have to sort out some paperwork.”

“What kind of paperwork can explain a resurrection?”

“Well, we’d need to start by telling your parents…”

Marie sat watching them bicker, taking in the oddity of the room. Of all the situations she had imagined when she left prison, this penthouse wasn’t one of them. She picked up a cup off the table and poured herself a drink. Her hand shook. Just nerves, she told herself. Her palm pulsed, pulled even. She felt the heat of the staff in her hand. She wanted it back.

“You alright?” asked Shirley.

Nick and James had moved their argument to the window and Lopsang was doing his best to arbitrate. How long was I sitting here? Time, time kept slipping away. “I’m fine. It all just feels a bit surreal.”

“You did leave prison this morning. That would be enough to drive anyone up a wall. I still remember how I felt the day I met that one.” She jabbed a thumb at Nick. “In a backwoods diner of all places. He responded to a call for action I wrote in a local tabloid. Showed up out of the blue, told me the whole world was a lie and I was only scratching the surface. At a certain point, you start to think you’re going crazy, and the edge is razor thin.”

“With everything I’ve seen, I’m pretty sure I’m not crazy.” It seemed impossible given the recent involvement of vampires and demonic entities in her life, but she knew it was real. “I’m just scared.”

“Good, keep that. Nick’s been around this stuff for too long. I don’t know if there’s a fearful bone left in his body, but that’s a detriment as much as it is an asset. Unless it’s a snake, you can bet he’s running right up to poke it and ask for booze.” Shirley reached out for one of the glasses on the table and pulled her hand back out of reflex.

The motion was almost too quick to catch, but Marie recognized recovery. Growing up in the area, it was hard not to know. “Snakes?”

“I know, it’s the oldest trope in the book, but he can’t stand them.”

“I’ve handled a snake bigger than you’ve ever seen,” slurred Nick, momentarily rising from his argument. Seconds earlier, he had been engaged in a heated debate about the merits of offshore bank accounts. The fact that he had heard anything over the sound of his own voice was astonishing.

Shirley ignored him. “The point is, fear of these things is good, Marie. The world we’re about to enter is dangerous, never forget that. No matter how familiar it becomes, remember that it can kill you in an instant.” Shirley’s lip twitched and Marie saw fear in her eyes. This time, she did nothing to hide it.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. Get some rest. I imagine a real bed is going to be quite the change, and unless I’ve missed my guess, we’ve got an ugly day ahead of us tomorrow.”