Saturday, September 8, 2012

Dead Rite chapter 124.12

“Good. If you leave the cathedral by the main doors you'll find the rest of our party at the bottom of the stairs. If you could hurry them up? I don't think Manoach will give us any further trouble.”

“Cathedral?” Gillian stared at him, her brow furrowed. “What cathedral?”

“This one.” Harold gestured to the space around them, the marble, the gilt, the frescoes...

“There is no cathedral, Harold. You're in a warehouse. You fell and bumped your head.”

“But...” Harold blinked several times and the cathedral faded around him. The marble became concrete, the columns steel support beams. “Manoach?”

“Oh, he's here, all right.” Gillian helped him sit up. “What's left of him at any rate.”

What do you mean?” Harold struggled to stand. On top of a pallet was the remains of a skeleton, green and furred with age. If this was Manoach, he was long past his sell-by date. “I don't understand. How long has he been here?”

“Too long.”

“”But Jasfoup saw him only a day or two ago. Dill saw him last week, peddling cannabis to students.”

“Not Manoach. Someone pretending to be him, maybe?”

“But I was talking to him. Not five minutes ago.” Harold reached into his pocket and felt a familiar jelly-like substance. He pulled out the half-dead legionnaire. “Here! I have proof.”

Gillian laughed. “That's Lucy's toy from the house. Goo. Disgusting stuff. I don't know why Julie bought it for her. It picks up all sorts of dirt and fluff. She must have dropped it in your pocket when you weren't looking.”

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