| |
––––––––
POPPY STOOD AT HER cauldron in her den, stirring the latest potion she’d crafted. She could sense that it was strong and knew it was one of her better batches. Ever since she’d been forced to retire from the Magic Guild, she’d had plenty of time on her hands. She’d used her time to scour the Fae District for ingredients and components.
At first, she’d been afraid to leave her neighborhood, since she’d been forbidden from straying far from her home. When it became obvious she wasn’t being watched, she figured it had been an empty threat. No one had tried to stop her when she’d gone for a walk a few blocks away from her house. Now, she came and went whenever she pleased. She’d gathered a large supply of ingredients during her travels. She’d bartered with other potions she’d made to get what she needed.
Luckily, none of her neighbors had witnessed her humiliation when the Immortal Triumvirate and Guild Masters had refused to believe her story about the zombie attack. “I know what I saw,” she muttered as she stirred the concoction. “They were the walking dead and they were going to turn me into one of them.”
When the potion was ready, Poppy spooned it into vials and labeled them. She’d already sipped one of her potions to boost her magic and cleaned the cauldron with a wave of her wand. She banked the fire with a spell, then turned to her worktable to survey the collection of vials. They were filled with the strength enhancing potion only she knew how to make. Dozens of vials of varying strengths were labeled and were lined up on the table.
The easy part was over and now the hard part was about to begin. Poppy knew she didn’t have the best people skills. She was a grumpy old witch who spent as little time as possible mixing with others. Being kicked out of the Magic Guild had been a blessing in disguise. She now had plenty of time to rally the witches and wizards so they would be ready for the coming war.
Poppy remembered the night of the zombie apocalypse twenty-five years ago and the war between the vampires and magic users just last year. She’d never been so full of terror, or had felt so helpless when the cursed zombies and then the uncursed bloodsuckers had invaded the Fae District. Thousands of her neighbors had been slaughtered because they’d been too weak to fight off the leeches.
“Not this time,” she vowed in grim determination. This time, her people would be able to fight back. They would be able to protect themselves when the walking corpses came for them.
Night had fallen two hours ago and her neighbors would be awake by now. Poppy carefully placed some of the vials in cloth bags, then headed for the door. It was raining, so she pulled on a waterproof cloak before leaving her house. It was easy to tell which houses were occupied. Weak lights shone through the windows and images were carved on the doors. But she didn’t intend to go door to door. She’d sent magical letters to everyone who lived in the suburbs where the witches and wizards dwelled. With luck, some of them would take her message seriously.
She held her wand ready and carefully searched the area before leaving the safety of her yard. No shambling zombies were in sight, so she hurried along the sidewalk and headed for a church several blocks away. Her spirits lifted when she saw others making their way to the church. They’d received her letter and were curious about why someone had called a meeting.
Poppy hadn’t put her name on the letters. She’d kept the message short and simple and had warned them all that they were in dire danger. With the ongoing feud with the vampires, they probably thought it had something to do with them. When they learned the truth, panic was bound to spread. She just hoped they would listen to her council so they could all have a chance to survive.
Most of the people who were flocking to the church were elderly. Poppy recognized some faces from the Magic Guildhall. They’d all retired long before she’d been let go. They didn’t possess her potion making skills.
The church was packed when Poppy entered it. She slipped through the crowd to the podium and stripped off her cloak. Carefully placing her cloth bags on the wooden platform, she tossed her sodden cloak to the floor next to them, then approached the lectern.
“Poppy?” someone called out from the crowd. “Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” she replied.
“Are you the one who called us here?” someone else called out incredulously. “Is this about the scene you made in the City Square?”
“What scene?” someone asked.
“She was hysterical and was screaming about a zombie invasion.”
Snickers broke out as the final few magic users arrived. Poppy flushed, but she was determined to keep her cool. “It happened!” she said. “I can prove it!”
“How?” a witch asked scornfully. “Do you have a zombie stuffed in your pocket?”
More laughter broke out and Poppy pointed her wand at the wall. “Watch this,” she said and drew the memory of the zombie attack from her head so they could all see it. Silence fell as the throng watched the spell play out. “Now do you believe me?” she asked in triumph.
“No,” a witch she used to work with said derisively. “You’re making this up to get attention. You’re obviously going senile.”
Poppy opened her mouth to issue a tirade at the woman, but someone stepped up on the platform beside her. He seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. “I knew Poppy when we were both young,” he said. He was completely bald, fairly tall and had a slight paunch. “She might have made some bad decisions, but she was never a liar,” he added.
“Lester?” Poppy asked in shock. He was in his mid-seventies now and she couldn’t even remember why she’d found him so attractive fifty years ago.
“Do you have any more proof of these zombies?” someone asked.
“I have this,” Poppy said and pulled the scrap of fabric that had been torn off one of the zombie’s clothes out of her pocket.
“Give that to me,” a witch said and shouldered her way through the crowd. Unsettled murmurs were starting to spread. “Someone loan me their power so I can cast a spell,” she requested. A few witches and wizards shuffled forward and they linked hands. When she had enough magic to cast the enchantment, the witch waved her wand and mumbled a few words. An image of the person the scrap of cloth belonged to formed in front of her.
“That’s George!” a wizard exclaimed. “He was my neighbor and he vanished a few months ago.” The missing wizard looked alive in the image, but they could see the resemblance between him and one of the zombies that had attacked Poppy in her memory spell.
“I’ve seen cloaked figures shambling around my neighborhood, but I thought they were just starving vampires,” a witch said in a fearful tone.
“So have I,” a wizard added.
A few more people added their zombie sightings and Poppy realized they had a bigger problem than she’d known. “The undead are spreading through our suburbs,” she said loudly enough for everyone to hear her. “They’re picking us off one by one and they’re adding us to their zombie army.”
“Maybe they aren’t zombies,” a witch said tentatively. “Maybe they’re mutants. They have the same pale green eyes as the crows and rats that keep cropping up everywhere.”
“Don’t be an idiot!” Poppy snapped. “They’re clearly zombies!”
“Who turned them into the undead?” Lester asked before a fight could break out.
“I don’t know,” Poppy said grimly. “Someone who hates our kind and wants us gone, obviously.”
“We need to inform the Immortal Triumvirate about this!” the witch who had cast the spell to bring up the image of the missing wizard declared. “They’ll be able to put a stop to whatever is going on.”
Poppy shook her head as shouts of support came for that idea. “They won’t listen to us,” she predicted. “I already tried to raise the alarm and they just laughed at me. We have to face this threat ourselves.”
“We’re old and feeble!” someone pointed out. “We can’t fight zombies!”
“We might be old and the Magic Guild thinks we’re useless, but we’re not as powerless as everyone believes,” Poppy said. She pointed her wand at Lester and levitated him off the ground. He squawked in surprise and a few snickers sounded.
“How did you do that?” someone asked her suspiciously.
“Most of you know I have a special talent for making potions,” Poppy said as she put Lester down.
“You mean they’re either far too strong, or pathetically weak,” a witch replied.
Poppy cast her a scowl, but she didn’t deny it. “I’ve created a potion that can boost my magical strength,” she told them.
“Does it have something to do with why you’re so fat when we’re all so thin?” an angry voice asked.
Poppy had known she would face anger from her neighbors when she told them about her potion. For the first time in her life, she was going to put her own selfish needs aside for the good of the entire community. “Yep,” she confessed. “I’ve been using the potion to feed myself ever since the Energy Tax was introduced.”
“How could you let us starve when you know a way to save us all?” a wizard shouted.
Poppy let the crowd rage on for a few minutes before muting them all with a spell. “I know I’ve been selfish,” she confessed. “The ingredients to make the spell aren’t common. If word got out about it, everyone would start making the potion and the components would soon vanish. We would have had prosperity for a few short months, then we’d all go back to starving again.”
She let that thought sink in before she continued. “I could have said nothing and hoarded the ingredients for myself, but I’ve chosen to share the potions with all of you. We need to be ready for the next zombie apocalypse. I can sense doom coming and it’s getting closer every night.”
She released the muting spell and Lester was the first to speak. “I’ve felt danger looming as well,” he said. His face had gone ashen and nods were exchanged throughout the crowd. “When do you think the apocalypse will strike?”
“On Halloween, of course,” Poppy replied. “Every time something bad has happened, it’s always been on Halloween. I’m not sure who is responsible for creating the walking dead, but we need to be ready to defend the Fae District when disaster strikes this time.”
“We need to form a committee,” Lester suggested. “Poppy can lead us and we’ll hold frequent meetings to discuss our plans.”
Poppy had never envisioned herself as a leader, but she accepted the heavy mantle of responsibility that settled on her shoulders. She handed out the vials, giving one to each household that had sent a representative. She had plenty more in stock, but she would hand them out when it was closer to Halloween. Lester was an unexpected ally and she was grateful for his support. She was glad she didn’t have to face this war alone. The witch was confident her fellow retirees would step up and do their part to keep their community safe.
