Deathbed Ch. 5

I gazed back at him with hand still clamped over my mouth, my eyes wide, and his misgiving began to harden into suspicion. He tore his eyes away from mine and glared at the fat man. "So. You think I've broken the terms. What's your evidence? Pile of steaming horseshit, I'll bet."

"Unfortunately, my evidence is incontrovertible." The fat man didn't look as if he thought it was particularly unfortunate. "Ohh yess. However, the situation may be resolvable--"

"You mean, I'm immediately released from the contract? That's about the only damn resolution I'm interested in!"

"That is of course impossible--but perhaps we could conduct our negotiations in the house?" The fat man made a move toward the steps, but as Deadman didn't seem inclined to step aside and let him pass, he halted a few feet away. "Won't you introduce me to your new acquaintance?" He smiled smarmily at me; I saw pure malice in his eyes. "I am the Bearer of Indictments, madam."

"Fuck you," Deadman replied with a snarl.

"That, alas, is not the problem. Applied to this young woman, however--"

"Shut your damn face," hissed Deadman. "We'll talk in the yard, and you are going to leave her out of it!"

"That is also impossible, Undertaker. She is an integral part of the problem, ohh yess. You are not allowed to have any kind of physical or emotional involvement with anyone, especially not with your charges. There is only one person that you may attach yourself to, as you know--the true, faithful love of your redemption. If, that is, you manage to find her within a few hours."

He smirked. "This commandment you have repeatedly broken in regard to the young woman here present, in addition to many other misdemeanor infractions and major violations."

"Says who? I know my rights--you've got to prove what you say or you can't do jack."

"Indeed, it is my function to establish the proofs. You are not interested in mediation? Then we shall hold a formal proceeding immediately. Is this your desire, as it is your right?"

"Yep. Let's get the stink out in the open!"

"Very well. I declare this court to be in session, and will proceed to business." The fat man brought out the scroll, partially unrolled it and began to read. "The indictments pertaining to the case of the present occupant of the function of the Hellrider, also known as the Undertaker. Dated this night of twoscore and ten years since the imposition of the contract pursuant to that function, by the grace and sufferance of our Lord and Master. Herein is contained an itemized list of the accusations, indictments and charges against the aforesaid Hellrider."

He cleared his throat. "Synopsis. It is alleged that the Hellrider has committed numerous offenses against Clauses VII, VIII and XII of the aforesaid contract, and in addition has violated the major terms of aforesaid contract in such manner as to render himself open to a charge of primary malfeasance, subject to immediate termination, or such action as our Lord and Master may deem sufficient and necessary, at his pleasure and discretion alone, or at that of his duly appointed--"

"Fuck that shit," said Deadman impatiently. "Read the charges!"

I looked at the irregular edges of the scroll. It seemed to be made of some kind of parchment, a treated animal skin, and was fairly long and narrow with a dark seam up the middle.

"As you wish. Item. The Hellrider encountered this woman, self-identified as 'Irene' and now present, at the scene of an accident while in the performance of his duty. He allowed her to take nourishment and transported her to a public place, attested to by many witnesses, although he is well aware that is strictly prohibited for the newly departed while they still linger on the earth."

"WHAT?!" the rider exploded. "She's not--"

"Kindly do not interrupt me, Undertaker. This is a formal proceeding. Item. He--"

"*No*! Explain that! This woman ISN'T dead!"

"Indeed, she is not dead now." The Bearer of Indictments smiled. "But she died when her car ran off the road. It is a treacherous curve, as you know, and your initial conclusion was correct. She was killed. Ohh yess."

I felt a dreadful throb of blood in my temples and looked at my hands and body in horror. The jolt, the tearing sensation, the flash of light…I had died after all? All this time, I had been dead? Or--

"Undead?" gasped Deadman. "The bastard's done that to her?"

The fat man inspected his fingernails, his tone slightly evasive. "It has been done before, ohh yess."

The rider looked flabbergasted, gesturing over his shoulder to me. "But she doesn't heal! I saw her put a mark on herself last night that isn't gone yet! She ain't nothing like me!"

"It is a measure of your arrogance, Undertaker, that you discount the possibility that any other sort of revenant human exists. Because you were made a certain way does not require that our Lord and Master make all of his servants after the same pattern."

"His servants?" Deadman looked at me with a horrible blaze starting in his eyes; my jaw dropped and I shook my head slightly, trying to deny the accusation that formed in the air between us. "This woman's one of his creatures?"