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created.” Jonis was looking more uncomfortable. “From what I understand, Walking Corpses are the result of a killing spell gone bad. Someone decided to turn an enemy instantly into a corpse—but the corpse continued to live and move around. To keep its flesh from entirely falling off, it started to eat other corpses. Since it is dead already, they can’t breed. But inside of them is like a disease, and diseases can be spread.”

All the men in the compartment stared at him. They had been chatting about what horrible assignments the Patriarch might send them on since they were now permanent demon hunters. They got their answer.

“So if it bites you, that’s it? You’re dead?” said Cpl. Higges.

Jonis shook his head, looking grimmer by the second. “No. Luckily, like a disease there is a cure, but only in the early stages of biting. If your entire body has been infected, you are doomed. They might as well burn your body right then.”

“How long does that take?” Lt. Gillway asked. His breathing went shallow.

Jonis frowned. “Two to three weeks tops, a couple of days at the earliest.”

“So it’s not instant,” Cpl. Higges said.

Jonis nodded with an ache.

“That’s not as bad as the worms,” Cpl. Pegsley said as if tossing out a positive idea for once. “If a worm got us, that was it. At least here there is a cure.”

Jonis closed his eyes in a cringe. “Not for me.”

They stared at him.

“What do you mean?” Lt. Gillway asked. His eyes were now wide. Only the clacketa, clacketa of the steel wheels on the rails sounded as Jonis tried to clear the lump from his throat.

“Uh, Walking Corpses are living dead. Their bodies are the opposite of life.” Jonis lowered his eyes to stare at his knees. “Most of our demon wards don’t work on it. A demon has to be alive for them to work.”

The others took in a breath and held it, waiting for the rest of the bad news Jonis was about to tell them. Cpl. Pegsley arms had begun to shake.

Jonis lifted his eyes to Lt. Gillway. “To kill it, you have to get up close. If it touches you, its skin disease will attack your skin. It won’t turn you into a corpse unless it gets into your blood though.

“But for me, a Cordril, I can’t even get near it.” Jonis averted his eyes back out the window, looking at the scenery again. “I’m skin sensitive. I absorb every living thing I touch. And since it is a dead thing that’s alive….”

Lt. Gillway drew in a breath. “No.”

Jonis didn’t move. “My body will absorb it faster. It could kill me just from a touch.”

They went silent.

“It seems like justice to me,” Cpl. Pegsley said a little too loud. He had meant it to be a whisper under his breath, but everyone heard it.

Lt. Gillway popped up from his seat. “Take that back right now!”

His face had gone purple.

Cpl. Higges glared also.

Cowering, Cpl. Pegsley pulled back to his seat. “I was just saying that he can kill with a touch. Don’t tell me that you aren’t creeped out even a little that he could suck us dry in the night when no one is looking!”

Lt. Pratch sat rigidly next to him, almost in support. Even Cpl. Wigg tilted his head, considering it as a dangerous possibility, peeking at Jonis.

Cpl. Higges still glared at Cpl. Pegsley, but he said nothing.

“Private Macoy would not do anything like that! Would you, Jonis?” Lt. Gillway shouted.

Jonis turned from the window giving a brisk nod. “Never.”

He saw Cpl. Wigg recoil with a disgusted snort. “How can we be sure? You are a demon.”

“Here. Here,” Lt. Pratch chimed in.

“Because he is the most naïve kid I have ever met, that’s why,” Cpl. Higges snapped back.

Lt. Gillway smirked back at him, glad to have an ally. “What he means is, Private Macoy is the not kind of person who wants hurt anybody.”

“What are you talking about?” Lt. Pratch rose to his feet. Gesturing to Jonis with his arm, he still shouted. “He’s the most dangerous demon around here, or haven’t you noticed that he’s done most of the demon killing since we started this hunting group! I think he enjoys it.”

“Shows how little you do know!” Lt. Gillway got into his face.

They glared at each other eye to eye for several minutes. Jonis remained on one end of the cabin looking back out the window, listening to Higges make disparaging noises as the man scowled at the other three who had distanced themselves from the Cordril.

“How little I know? It is his fault I’m not back in Ladis! If he hadn’t been sent to our post, I wouldn’t be eating rations day in and out, sleeping among the bugs in a drafty tent.” Lt. Pratch’s chest heaved indignantly.

“Wimp,” Cpl. Higges said. “If he hadn’t been sent to our post we’d all be dead.”

Lt. Gillway snorted, tossing his head back again. “Yeah, you are wimp. This is the army. What did you expect?”

“An office job!” Lt. Pratch huffed. “I was up for one before Cap. Powal sent me gallivanting with you idiots.”

They stared at him. Even Cpl. Wigg moaned.

Lt. Gillway sat down. He smirked and crossed his legs, getting more comfortable. “Well, too bad. You’re stuck with us, Lieutenant. Get used to it.”

Lt. Pratch huffed again, but he knew there was nothing to argue with that. He was stuck. The man dropped into his seat, folding his arms, and sulked the rest of the way to Barnid.

 

There was actually a train station in Kalsworth. It was on the line. A large town, Kalsworth had stone streets in the wealthier neighborhoods like the cities of Brein Amon. The outlying homes were wood like in Jonis’s home village. When they stepped off into the train station, they noticed that the usual bustle for a town was nil. They crossed the train station quad with their bags, glancing over at the policemen that stood on guard. Lt. Gillway walked straight over to him.

“Hello. We are the military demon hunters. If you could direct me to the town patriarch’s home, we would much appreciate it.”

The policeman’s tense face relaxed some, gazing over them all. “Finally. Go up this street straight up the hill. The patriarch’s office is at the head of all roads. You cannot miss it.”

Bowing to him, Lt. Gillway glanced back at the others. Cpl. Higges and Jonis walked right behind him with Cpl. Wigg right in line, leading on Lt. Pratch and the straggler, Cpl. Pegsley, who wanted nothing but to leave Kalsworth as quickly as possible. During their train ride, he had become thoroughly convinced that they were going to their doom as he listened to their plan of attack. So far, most of the demon killing would be in their hands. Jonis would play the part of the hunting dog and apothecary.

The walk uptown took a while. The stone streets were practically bare except for some dust and a few stray cats. Doors were shut. Windows were closed and locked. Jonis smelled the air, listening to the wind chimes tinkling on the breeze. The air smelled clean except for a faint odor that came from the outskirts of town. That, Jonis suspected, was where the Walking Corpse slept, probably near the graveyard.

It only came out a night. Having a severe aversion to sunlight because the light and heat increased the speed of decay in its body, the Walking Corpse would not be out and about for at least a few more hours. That was the good news. The bad news seemed to be the amount of infected people within the city. The ill would have an aversion to sunlight also. And with so many shuttered windows closed and locked, it looked as if a large number had been bitten.

Half an hour, and they stood at the patriarch’s gates. The butler let them in. It was a simple house that equaled that of Mr. Farren’s home. The furnishings were older pieces passed on from generation to generation, the proprietor a middle-aged man with his hair still in his head. When they met him, he looked grave. Of course, when the patriarch saw Jonis, his eyes widened and he blinked back with wonder.

Lt. Gillway bowed right away. “Your Grace. We have come to deal with your demon problem.”

The patriarch looked past him at Jonis. “So you fight demons with a demon I see. Can you control him? We don’t want a worse situation on our hands.”

Sighing, Lt. Gillway bowed lower, keeping his eyes up. “I assure you, Private Macoy is as reliable and trustworthy as I am.”

Cpl. Wigg looked ready to laugh, but he covered it and merely coughed. Jonis was not sure it was a criticism of him or of Lt. Gillway.

Drawing in a long breath, the patriarch sighed. “Very well. I think it is best to start at the hospital. I hear you have a magister that may cure the infection. Our doctors are stumped.”

Glancing back at Jonis with a smile, Lt. Gillway nodded to him. “Yes, we have a very skilled magister with us. But, uh, we were concerned about all the closed windows. Have all the ill been reported?”

Nodding, the patriarch rose from his chair. He walked to the front door to call a carriage. “Yes, that much we have done. I had all the people searched and locked in with food stores. The flesh eater can’t break into homes. It is not very strong.”

Jonis nodded. That fit his memory. With its flesh rotting, the Walking Corpse’s muscles could not do much more than move it about. The thing was not stronger than the human that it once was. Of course, if a Walking Corpse had infected a strong man, then there would be trouble.

The patriarch’s carriage had only room for himself. He rode slowly while they walked. Of course, Lt. Pratch had to smother his gripes at being made to walk, already exhausted from hiking up the hill. But lucky for him the hospital was not far from the city hall.

They stepped in the doors of a simple two-story building. There were nurses left and right running around with face masks and gloves on. Jonis glanced at one, pulling back when he saw that she had a skin rash on her arm mostly from handling the infected victims.

The doctor sighed with relief when he saw them and nearly jumped from his chair to greet them. “Who is the magister? I need him at once.”

Jonis eyed the rash on the doctor’s face. The entire hospital looked infected in one way or another. He took a hesitant step forward and bowed. “I am.”

The man took a step back. “Your eyes are blue.”

“That is because he is a Cordril,” Lt. Gillway said, squaring his shoudlers. “And he is an excellent magister. He rid Ladis from a severe demon worm problem and Dalis Camp from several parasite plagues.”

Uneasy, the doctor reluctantly waved Jonis over. “Ok, fine. Do you know what to do, because I have tried just about everything? Salves, vitamin drinks. You name it. And my patients are still dying. We already lost two and had to burn them alive before they started biting people.”

“So that was what I smelled when we came into town,” Jonis said, looking over the shoulder to the street. “You tied them down, of course.”

The doctor closed his eyes, nodding painfully. “We had to. They don’t feel the fire, and they would have attacked someone.”

Jonis nodded. “Then you are doing well. Do you know where the Walking Corpse haunts at night?”

Shaking his head, the doctor looked at Lt. Gillway. “No, but we are guessing it came from the graveyard. All the graves have been torn out and most of the first victims were mourners at a funeral. We think it ate the corpses in the graveyard first and then stalks nightly for fresh meat. Of course, it comes up here because we have all its victims under quarantine.”

Nodding again, Jonis

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