Dead Corse

Phaedra Weldon - Zoe Martinique 00 - Dead Corse

E
ver wonder how Zoë and Rhonda met? Was it a good
meeting? Accidental? Or was it a match made in heaven—at first. Were the signs
always there? DEAD CORSE tells the story of how the not-yet Wraith Zoë Martinique
and not-yet Sorceress Rhonda Orly met and began what they believed would be a
long and loyal friendship. Will it last? Only time will tell the tale
.  

“I see in the cards you two are in love.”

I looked at the couple. They were holding hands, having difficulty
keeping their eyes from one another and had answered each other’s sentences for
the past ten minutes. Duh. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see these two
were in love—nor did it take a deck of tarot cards.

I’d never really paid attention to card reading until I saw my mom
using them in her shop. She said she told her customer’s futures and I had to
admit, her readings were a lot more in depth and believable than this boob’s.
If only she could see me leaning against the wall behind her, my arms crossed
over my chest and a sarcastic
 
whatever
 
look on my face.

But she couldn’t. Because I was a ghost.

My name’s Zoë. Martinique.

I’m Irish Latin mix which means—I wouldn’t say I was ugly but I
don’t consider myself beautiful either. I have olive skin, sort of topaz eyes
(no really, my mom said so), long thick hair and freckles. I also have an
overbite the dentist insists needs fixing. But I don’t think so.

And there’s one more thing you might need to know—I’m a
 
Traveler
.

Hmmm—that doesn’t sound as impressive as it should does it? Makes
me sound like someone that travels the world and blogs. I think maybe I need to
come up with a better name. Anyway, what that’s supposed to mean is that I—for
some unknown reason—can slip out of my body and take a walk-about.

I know right? Weird. But I can. And when I do it I don’t really
look like I do usually. Yeah same face and hair, but my clothes are all dark
and stealthy and I wear black bunny slippers.

Mental Note:
 
Black
bunny slippers are awesome. And hard to find.

Ever since I discovered I could do this I’d pushed it to its
limits. The only limit I’d discovered so far was the length of time out of
body. I’d never timed it because I couldn’t bring a watch with me—and I always
forgot to look at a clock. I had noticed certain signs when I’d been out too
long, like dizziness and nausea. And those times when I ignored those signs? It
was a stone bitch when my silver cord yoinked me back and I slammed back into
my body. The resulting hang over kept me in bed for a full day before I felt
human enough to re-enter the world of the living.

My recent doctor’s appointment hadn’t gone so well. He’d made me
take a sugar test. He couldn’t explain my fatigue, lack of energy and constant
peeing as anything other than a possible problem with my pancreas. I knew that
wasn’t it—but I couldn’t really explain to him I was staying out partying all
night
 
out
 
of my body.

So here I was, eaves dropping in a haunted house two days before
Halloween. I’d already taken a spin inside some of the more commercial holiday
haunts, the ones that pop up the last week of September and disappear November
first and yawned my way through.
 
This
house
was a real mansion a local group had rented out and decorated up to earn money
for breast cancer.

I wasn’t there just to spy on people. I was there because I had a
job! Someone wanted me to listen in and find a real Book of Shadows.

Honestly? A Book of Shadows? I know what that was and I figured
I’d go look and when nothing turned up I could at least be honest when I
reported back it wasn’t there.

“Oh…and I see you….” the fortune teller nodded to the young lady.
“Have recently lost a loved one.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “Oh, how did you know?”

I rolled my eyes. “Lucky guess.”

The fortune teller looked to her left, then her right and wore a
seriously strange look on her face. “I—I know because the cards say so.” She
pulled a few more cards from the deck and made a cross pattern on the table.
I’d seen mom do the same thing. “I see you have suffered because of their
passing, but I also see you have a brighter future.”

Before I could give another retort I felt a wave of dizzy which
was the first warning that I’d been out of body way too long. “Mmhmm…darkest
before the dawn.”

This time the fortune teller lightly slammed her hands on the
table. The cards moved a little but the clients didn’t seem to notice. They
were too engaged in each other. “So…yeah. Okay. I see from this card you have
many pressures on you like school and dealing with the loss of that loved one.”

Really? I looked at the couple again. Backpacks. One was wearing a
Georgia State hoodie. Even I could have put together she was in school, and if
a family member died then yeah—pressure! I made a rude noise.

“Okay that is it!” This time she slammed her hands down hard on
the table. A few of the cards flew off the table as she stood. “Daryl? Is that
you? This is not freak’n funny and it is not my fault you had to be the dead
guy tonight!”

The clients finally realized their fortune teller was having a
scary moment of her own and talking to—technically—no one.

Took me two beats to realize two things—one, she
 
heard
 
me. Crap! Damn! I forgot even if I’m
invisible I’m still audible. And two, this was totally a Whoopie and Patrick
moment from
 
Ghost
.

This was my cue to exit stage left. I moved from the wall and
slipped past the couple who were now staring at the fortune teller as if she’d
grown two more eyeballs out of her forehead.

“You!”

I stopped. I always stopped at loud voices. And I looked over at
her—

And she was looking at me!

Wait just a freak’n minute. No one could see me like this—except
mom and I figured since she gave birth to a weird kid then the gene had to come
from someone. How did
 
she
 
see me? I was out of my body and
technically—in my opinion—a ghost!

I decided if I ignored her and slipped through the wall (much
better than sieving through metal or glass) and moved down the hall she’d
forget I was even there. The sounds of customers screaming and then nervously
laughing drifted down the stairs as I moved far away from the fortune telling
room. Bothering the fake medium had been fun until it was apparent she could
 
see
 
me too. That was a question for mom
later. But I needed to get busy on the job I was sent here to do which was
finding this book.

I had to stop and let the second wave of dizzy pass through.
Damn—I’d pissed away most of my time again. But how? I couldn’t have been out
of body (OOB) for more than two hours. I’d gone corporeal (visible) a few times
to ask questions about the house but that was it.

After that wave passed I felt the stirring in the silver cord
connected to my belly button. It was a subtle tug, but it wouldn’t stay that
way. It was going to get really strong, really fast.

I needed to hurry. I knew what a Book of Shadows was: the book
used by a witch to record her spells, her triumphs, her failures, even her
thoughts. Mom had one but I’d never tried to look into it. Magic isn’t my
thing. And yes, it is real. I mean—look at me—well you can’t look at me—but if
I can slip out of my body and go around like a ghost then why couldn’t witches
exit?

Besides, my mom does some pretty amazing stuff.

Mental Note:
 
Focus,
focus, focus, focus…ghostly ADD strikes again.

The client that wanted me to find this book, some dude named
thejackgrayson at gee mail dot com, said it was in a safe in this house. So,
where would a safe be? In the movies they were in a study or a den. I was on
the first floor of the house standing in a small space between the staircase
and a wall. In front of me was the front door with its beveled glass cutout,
and to my right under the stairs was another door I assumed lead to a half
bathroom. To the right was where Fake Fortuna spun her fake psychic routine,
and on the other side was where the tour of the mansion started. It was a huge
house by any measuring scale I had. Reported to have eleven bedrooms, eight
bathrooms, kitchen, plus other “family places.”

And that was just the way the house was advertised. Family places.
I assumed that meant living room, dinning room, den, playroom—though I hoped
this house’s playroom wasn’t like the Adams’ Family’s playroom.

I assumed dens and studies were on the lower floor so I slipped by
the newest group getting their haunted story from their guide. This guy was
dressed like a zombie and a really good one. Looked gross to me.

The room had plastic covered furniture, a roll top desk, one of
those corner curio cabinets and a coffee table with several paperback copies of
ghost books. A grandfather clock coincidentally chimed for the hour—it was
after ten p.m. Over the roll top was a large painting of a bunch of trees. In
the center of them stood what looked like a woman in—an apron? She was very
small like a wee person in a large forest.

To the right of the roll top and the left of the grandfather clock
was a door. Now that would either be another room or a closet. The padlock on
the outside pretty much assured me it was a closet since I didn’t think people
would put locks on the outside of a den or a study, but it wasn’t going to hurt
if I just stuck my head through the door and took a peek.

The next group moved from the room as I approached the door. Old door.
Paint peeling. I figured this was probably one of the house’s original doors. I
glanced at the painting to me left and stopped.

The figure of the woman wasn’t in the middle of the painting
anymore but was more toward me—and it looked like she was pointing at the door.

Holy Muther Guppie. My heart pounded against my chest as I stared
at that little figure, waiting for it to move.

When it didn’t I tore my gaze away from it, took in a deep breath
and shoved my upper half through the door.

Definitely
 
not
 
a closet.

Hell no. There was a whole room back here.

I started to push the rest of me through when the third wave of
dizzy hit. Oh not good.

As far as I could tell, me being incorporeal (my mom’s word not
mine) like this meant I couldn’t touch or move any physical object, and if
something were thrown at me it would go through me.

Physics, right?

I was also limited in my five senses. Sight and hearing were good,
in fact I could see shit that nobody really wants to know is lurking in the
shadows. But touch and smell—eh—pretty much non-existent. So feeling cold or
smelling something bad wasn’t going to happen.

I yanked my head and shoulders out of that door and spun around as
the third wave of dizzy continued and I went down on my booty.

“Eieci te oh malum spiritum! Cum sale conpellar confodere
te!”

What the hell? Who was shouting? I looked up to see Fake Fortuna
standing over me with a hand full of salt. She threw some of it on me and of
course it went
 
through
 
me and scattered on the dirty, dust
coated hardwood floor.

I tried to yell at her to stop that but she was all into. She’d
thrown back her hood and I saw long dark hair and really heavy eye-makeup.
Painted nails wove symbols in the air and she continued to spew out what might
have been latin as I felt the pull on the cord. Well hell, I wasn’t going to be
able to explore that room tonight.

But, at least I knew there was a room.

I just hated that this whack job was going to believe she
exorcised me.

Balls. 

• • •

Moms are the bomb.

Except when they’re not.

Sigh
…that
didn’t make a lot of sense did it?

Mom was great because she made the best breakfasts in the world.
Mom was not because she came into my room and opened the curtains and let the
evil sunshine burn my skin to my bone.

I know I said something rude. Or at least I was thinking it as I
pulled the cover up over my head and made myself into a burrito.

“Up. Come on. You did it again last night.”

Yes. Yes I did.

Wait— “What did I do?” came my rather muffled question from the inside
the safety of my burrito.