nancy werlock's diary s01 - episodes 8

Nancy Werlock’s Diary:

The Walking Dead

By Julie Ann Dawson

©2014 Julie Ann Dawson

Bards and Sages Publishing

Bellmawr, NJ

www.bardsandsages.com

Two Nancy Werlock Stories:

Like a Kick in the Head

Joshua Brynwolf, Lord Advocate of the Eighth of the Nine and alleged murderer of Grande Madame Vivika, has gone into hiding. And of course just when Nancy learns this information, she also realizes Houston has gone missing.

The Walking Dead

What happens when hundreds of zombie fans participate in a charity zombie walk in the vicinity of a powerful cairn at a time when the Veil is growing thinner with each passing day? Nancy
really
doesn’t want to find out.

These stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living, dead, or undead is coincidental and vaguely disturbing.

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Like a Kick in the Head

September 15
^th
,

Nothing good ever comes from someone pounding on your front door at 4:30 in the morning.

I throw on a robe and remind myself, again, to buy some real pajamas. I stumbled down the stairs and look out the peephole to see my friend Steve and another man I don’t recognize who is carrying a small black case.

I open the door and start to speak, but Steve interrupts me. “We need to come in,” he says as he gently but firmly pushes pass me. “Brynwolf’s gone to ground.”

Joshua Brynwolf, more commonly referred to as Lord Advocate of the Eighth of the Nine, had apparently been responsible for the death of Houston’s mother. Since Vivika revealed that tidbit of information, the Council has been running an investigation. Apparently Brynwolf caught wind of it. Considering the fact that he is a Rank One Psion, this really should be a surprise to no one.

I close the door behind them and wave a hand toward the living room. They both collapse onto the couch. Neither of them looks like they have slept in days. “How long ago?” I ask.

“Not sure,” replies Steve. “College of Psionics only told us this morning. But he may have been gone long before that. Houston here?”

“As far as I know. I’ll go wake him.”

My newly hired house brownie sticks his head out the kitchen door and exclaims “Oh goodness! Nobody is supposed to be awake yet! I haven’t finished dusting!” He nervously removes the scarf holding back his mane of fire-engine red hair and wipes it over the back of his neck.

“Its fine, Harlan. Could you put a pot of coffee on for my guests, please?”

Harlan nods his head so rapidly I fear he might hurt himself. “Yes! Of course! Right away!”

“Flugalmorph Agency?” asks Steve.

“Yeah, they just started the service this week. Poor dear. I hope he isn’t too startled.” Brownies are rather peculiar about people actually watching them work. It’s really only been the last century since they even allowed the people they clean up after to see them at all.

I go upstairs to wake Houston. He doesn’t respond to my knocking, so I slowly open the door. His bed is empty. His phone is still sitting on his dresser, however.

“He’s…not here!” I yell downstairs. I hear Steve’s footsteps racing up the stairs.

“When did you see him last?” he asks as he starts searching the room.

“Around 10 pm. Before I went to bed. He was playing some stupid video game.”

The other man now enters the bedroom with the case. He opens it up on Houston’s bed and removes a silver ball from it. He twists the top off and the bottom starts to spin and emit a faint light. He tosses it into the air and it floats around the room, scanning for any residual energies. When the scanner finishes surveying the room, it floats back to his hand. He looks at Steve and shakes his head.

“That’s a good sign, at least,” Steve says. “Nancy, I’m sorry. This is Justicar Stewart Hannity.”

“Madame Warlock,” he says with a slight bow. “We apologize for abruptness of our intrusion.”

“That’s fine,” I say as I pick up Houston’s phone. There is nothing unusual on it. Some goofy texts between him and Eric regarding their first trip to the Hellsmouth the other night. A text from Lee about some new girl working out at their gym (which, admittedly, generates a brief and irrational pang of jealousy). But nothing bizarre.

“The…um…the coffee…it is ready!”

“Harlan, did you see Houston leave?” I ask as I go back downstairs.

“Um…well…oh dear.” The poor little thing is shaking.

“Harlan, it’s OK. There is no reason to be so nervous.”

“I just started with Flugalmorph and I don’t want to mess up!” His violet eyes are huge with concern and make his face appear even more doll-like. I want to hug him.

“You haven’t,” says Steve reassuringly. “We just need to know when Houston left.”

Harlan takes a deep breath and clenches his hands together to fight the shaking. “About an hour ago. I was vacuuming the living room and he came down the steps in a hurry and went out the door.”

“Did he say anything to you?” asks Stewart.

“Sorry,” says Harlan.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m just asking if he said anything to you.”

“No. No. I mean, he said
he
was sorry. He almost tripped over me.”

“You have a way of getting in touch with him?” asks Steve.

“Quickest way to find him? Let me call Risha.”

Risha is Houston’s liaison with the College of Psionics and, despite his denials to the contrary, his kinda-sorta-not really-but-yeah-maybe new girlfriend. It isn’t serious yet. But I don’t need to use a Third Eye incantation to tell something is developing there.

Risha is a telepath, so she doesn’t need a cell phone to “call” Houston. I, however, need a cell phone to call her. So I go back upstairs and retrieve Houston’s to find her number.

I hear a yawn on the other end of the call followed by “Hmmm, wa…hello?”

“Risha, I’m sorry to wake you at this hour, but—”

“You need me to find Houston? Do you think he’s in danger?” she is suddenly wide awake.

“He left his cell phone and went out an hour ago unexpectedly. I just—”

“Why are there Justicars at your house?”

I put the phone down and put up the Iron Wall incantation before continuing. “I’m sure Houston mentioned my friend Steve to you in the past.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. Hold on. Let me see if I can get a connection to him.” A minute later, she comes back on the line giggling. “He said to tell you he’s fine and to lower your Iron Wall so he can talk to you.”

“Thank you, Risha. I’m sorry to get you in the middle of this at this hour.”

“It’s no problem, Nancy. After all, I am his C-Psi.”

“His…what?”

“Senior Psion.”

“Oh, well, thank you anyway.” I hang up with Risha and open my mind to Houston.

“I can’t believe you went through my phone,” he thinks.

“That’s what happens when you leave your phone here and I can’t reach you. Deal with it.”

“Why is Steve there?”

“Whatever you are doing, you need to come home. Now.”

“I’m kinda in the middle of something.”

“Whatever it is can wait.”

“Ah, Boss, that’s a big, fat ‘no’. I’m in Lawnside following a wisp.”

“Wait, one of Nanna’s wisps?”

“Yeah. It woke me up because it saw something peculiar. I’m following it while it follows what it is watching.”

If dealing with Houston’s dead mother and her drama wasn’t enough, I’m also hip-deep in a mess involving necromancers who are possibly using forbidden magic to artificially extend their lives. Mom and Nanna worked out a few dozen pacts with wisps and promised them imphood in exchange for serving as scouts around the region.

“I thought the plan was that if a wisp found something, you would just astrally project to the location. Not physically go there?”

“Once I was up I figured it quicker to just get over here than to try to go back to sleep.”

“Are you talking to him now?” asks Steve. “You have that annoyed look on your face.” I nod at Steve and explain to him where Houston is. “Get me a cross-street. I’ll meet him there.”

“Steve wants to meet up with you. What’s your location?” He doesn’t immediately answer. “Houston?” He cuts me off. “Let me throw some clothes on.”

It doesn’t take us long to locate Houston. We just follow the ambulance to the Wawa convenience store parking lot. Two EMTs are putting a body on a stretcher for transport. Another is treating Houston for a head injury.

“Are you alright?” I shout. I get intercepted by a police officer before I can reach him.

“Ma’am, I need to ask you to stay back,” he says.

“My name is Dr. Nancy Werlock. Houston is my employee.”

“Well, in that case, maybe you can explain what your employee was doing out at this hour?”

“You mean besides being a stubborn man?”

“Didn’t you say she was a psychologist or something?” asks Stewart to Steve.

“Nancy has traditionally used the blunt-force method of counseling,” says Steve.

“And you gentlemen are?”

“Want me to take this, Steve?” asks Stewart.

“Yeah, would ya? I need to check the body.”

“Sir, I need you to—”

“Everything is fine, officer,” says Stewart as he steps in front of me and makes eye contact. “Steve knows the deceased.”

“Well if he knows the deceased then that’s fine,” says the officer.

“So Houston found the body and called 911, huh?” says Stewart.

“Houston found the body and called 911.”

“Kid never saw a dead body before and must have passed out and hit his head.”

“Kid never saw a dead body before. He must have passed out and hit his head.”

“It’s a good thing he was here, otherwise that body might have been found by some kids heading to school.”

“It’s a good thing he was here. Otherwise the body might have been found by some kids heading to school.”

“Nancy should probably check on Houston.”

“Ma’am you should probably check on Houston.”

“Who’s the other guy?” asks Houston as he looks up at me.

“Friend of Steve’s. What happened to your head?”

“I got another one of those headaches.”

“He’s refusing to go to the hospital,” says the EMT.

“There’s a surprise,” I say.

“I’ll make an appointment with Doctor Creepy-Guy.”

“You mean Dr. Parker? He’s not creepy.”

“Make sure he gets some x-rays done,” says the EMT. “He really should go to the hospital now. But we can’t force him.”

“I’ll take care of him.”

The EMT walks off to gather his equipment. I look over at Stewart, who is now talking to the second police officer on the scene.

“Justicars are recruiting Mesmers now it looks like,” I say.

“All things considered, not a bad idea,” says Houston.

“Now what happened? You cut me off.”

“I was trying to concentrate and you were distracting me!” He shakes his head and takes a couple of deep breaths.

“I’m going to call Dr. Parker now and take you right over there.”

“Fine.”

“Ye gods, you must be hurt. You aren’t arguing.”

“He gonna be OK?” asks Steve as he walks over to us.

“He’s alive. More than can be said for the other fellow. Anyone we know?”

“No college affiliation. Looked to be an adept. I’ve already made some phone calls to get a proper autopsy once the mundanes are done. Might be problematic, though. A lot of these adepts the families don’t even know. They may not cooperate.”

“What happened?” I ask Houston again.

“I was following the wisp. I hid behind the dumpster and watched the guy cut across the parking lot. He stopped and was looking off toward that telephone pole. I saw someone.
Something
. I think it was female from the shape, but I’m not sure. It…it wasn’t solid.”

“Free-roaming Ghost?” asks Steve. “Wraith maybe?”

“It pointed at him. He just stopped moving. Like he was terrified. Frozen in fear. Then he clutched his chest. That’s when I came out from behind the dumpster.”