Chapter 33

 

As the two zombies charged, both from the left, Johnny twisted the Chapman Hellcat in the other direction. He managed to keep the cycle upright, then goosed the accelerator to zoom past the two attackers. But as he sped by them, they began to raise the alarm.

Johnny spotted a clutch of zombies up ahead on the long, winding driveway, milling around what looked to be a still-smoking, smashed up limousine—the Lindt that Quintus had hijacked. It had gone right into a big oak tree, but there was no sign of the ancient specter.

The zombies, of course, heard their comrades shouting, as well as the drone of the Hellcat, and turned around to see what was happening. They started to move toward the rapidly approaching cycle in a kind of zombie scrum.

Johnny knew what he had to do, even though it would bring him and Nina perilously close to the big pond in front of Bilbury Hall.

He figured that by swinging up onto the lawn—muddy and brown this time of year—he would be able to run this latest gauntlet. But he could see that one of those zombies looked especially fleet of foot.

Keeping the motorcycle going while shouting over his shoulder wasn’t easy. But Johnny had to.

“See that bozo coming?” he yelled.

“Yeah, the thing’s awful fast,” Nina bellowed back.

“Grab the bat out of my pack and get ready to wallop it a good one.”

Johnny could feel Nina snatching up the cricket bat as he swung right, near to the spot where the lawn dipped down into the water. Another few inches too close, and the tires might slide out from beneath them, pitching them into the pond. Then their gooses would be cooked for sure.

In the rearview mirror on the handlebars, he saw a tall, dark form coming up behind them—almost faster than the cycle. Even as he gunned the Hellcat forward, he heard Nina scream. Not a scream of fear, but of power. The scream you make when you want a little jolt of extra energy. He felt her swing the cricket bat.

There was a sodden percussion of something very hard hitting something very meaty. Then came a bellow of pain and outrage.

“Gotcha!” Nina shouted.

Johnny steered the cycle back off the lawn. Soon they were zooming down the straightaway that took them through an open, wrought-iron gate and onto a narrow public road.

There wasn’t a zombie in sight. Johnny flipped on the headlamp, and they zoomed down the curving country lane.

“Great job with that joker, Sparks!” he shouted to his friend.

“Thanks,” Nina yelled back. “Managed to smash its knee. Folded up like an accordion.”

Johnny felt her wedging the cricket bat into his pack.

“I heard some stuff when I was held prisoner,” she shouted. “It might be really important.”

“What is it?”

“I think they’re planning a big attack real soon. I overheard Pamela. She said their people were in place and awaiting the order to move. She mentioned that Royalton would never be the same.”

Johnny had heard Percy mention Royalton, too. Something was up. They had to alert the authorities before Percy could put his plan in motion.

They sped along for about ten minutes before Nina yelled in Johnny’s ear. “Do you know where we’re going?”

Johnny realized that he didn’t. He had just wanted to get away from Bilbury Hall. As far and as fast as possible.

“You still have that compass, Sparks?”

They stopped by the side of the road. Nina consulted her compass in the light of the cycle’s headlamp. They were traveling north, but that’s all they knew. Johnny had left the map back in the Allister automobile with Basil.

“We have to get headed south,” he said. “But I want to avoid Bilbury Hall. I don’t want to go near that nest of nasties ever again. ”

Nina looked back in the direction they had come from. “I remember we went past a road on the left a few minutes ago. We could go back and see where it leads.”

Johnny agreed. He was pretty much fresh out of ideas—it being so late and he being so exhausted. It was nice to have Nina’s gray cells back in action.

Beyond his poor sense of direction and weariness, Johnny had another worry rattling around in his noggin. Had Basil and Marko managed to get out? Johnny still felt guilty about leaving them.

So it was a fine coincidence when, as they roared back in the direction they had come from, Johnny saw an automobile heading toward them, its headlights ablaze.

Could it be Marko and Basil?

The car sped right by them, going at least fifty miles per hour—a good pace on a country road like this.

Then Johnny heard a squealing of brakes. He slowed the Chapman motorcycle, braked to a stop, and turned it around to have a look. It took him a few seconds to recognize the very same red Allister two-door he had left Basil Hastings in. A head popped out of the passenger’s side window. It was Marko Herne!

“Wrong way, Johnny,” he hollered. “They’re after us. Mounted ghost cavaliers. Follow us. I know where we are, and I know someone who can help us.”

“Understood,” Johnny shouted.

Marko’s head disappeared back into the vehicle, and the car sped away.

Johnny and Nina tucked in right behind the coupe. Though Johnny snatched quick looks in the rearview mirror, he saw nothing behind them but darkness. A troop of ghost warriors would be glowing green.

But wraiths on horses could go a lot faster than either a motorcycle or a car. Johnny was expecting that kind of trouble to come from the direction of Bilbury Hall. So what happened next caught him totally off-guard.

Charging across an empty field beside the road came three mounted cavaliers, waving swords and shouting things that were undoubtedly unfriendly. The ghosts apparently didn’t have bows and arrows, or Johnny and Nina would already be looking like pincushions.

Johnny could see absolutely no way that they’d survive this encounter with just a cricket bat and a Chapman Hellcat cycle. The ghosts’ horses were fast and there was no room for Johnny to really maneuver the motorcycle.

“Nina!” he bellowed. “Hang on tight!”

The first of the cavaliers was closing in on them, his saber lifted up, ready to strike.

At the last instant, Johnny swerved slightly to the left. As the Chapman changed course and slowed, he could literally feel the air move—the saber blade slashing an inch or two over his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that first ghost warrior fly off to the left, overshooting. But the other two were not far behind him, and they looked ready to strike.

Now that Johnny and Nina had slowed, they were sitting ducks. Then, out of nowhere…

BOOM! BOOM!

There was a frightful shriek.

It sounded like the high-pitched grinding of metal on metal.

The second cavalier had dropped his saber and was dragging his hand across his shoulder.

Johnny was astonished. What just happened? He glanced up the road, where the two-door coupe had slowed to a crawl.

Standing out on the running board, gripping the open door with his left hand, was Marko. In his right hand he had a big semi-automatic pistol, smoke wafting out of the barrel. He aimed it again, and the weapon barked twice.

The third cavalier yelped in pain and flew off to the side, aborting his attack. The wraith glared at Marko, then at Johnny and Nina. If looks could kill, Johnny figured they would all be dead.

Johnny stopped the Hellcat, and he and Nina climbed off. Basil put on the brakes, as well, and Marko hopped from the running board, gun at the ready.

They were out in the middle of nowhere, with ghost cavaliers on both sides, glowing ominously.

Johnny was having a hard time taking these spooks seriously. With their frills and ruffles and feathered floppy hats, they looked practically like overdressed floozies. But he knew they had a reputation as fierce fighters in their day.

“Why aren’t they charging?” Nina asked.

“Licking their wounds, I guess,” he replied. “We’d be in a huge fix if Marko didn’t have a gun.”

“I thought that bullets didn’t hurt ghosts.”

“Oh, bullets hurt ’em, all right. Smarts like the dickens. So I figure our attackers here have never eaten lead and it stunned them a bit.”

By now, Marko and Basil had trotted over to join them.

“Nice shooting, Marko,” Johnny said admiringly.

Basil nodded in appreciation, as well. “Good thing Marko found that gun in the glove box. Quite the sharpshooter, isn’t he?”

Marko looked a little surprised himself. “My uncle’s teaching me how to shoot. Says I’m a natural.”

Nina, as she so often did, brought the conversation back to reality. “Guys, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re still surrounded. And I don’t think they’re too happy with us.”

Then, to Johnny’s great relief, reinforcements arrived.

Leaping out of the ground in front of him came Petunia. And right behind her came the Centurion Quintus, his short sword in hand. He gave a quick Imperial salute and turned to face the mounted cavaliers.

His arrival and Marko’s semi-automatic were enough to discourage the three attackers. One of them, apparently the leader, made a hand signal. They turned their horses around and galloped away, up into the sky.

“Quintus, I’ve never been gladder to see anyone than you,” Johnny said with a huge smile.

“After I left the horseless cart, I found the child here,” Quintus said. He patted Petunia on the head. “And we came after you.”

But Johnny’s smile was fading. “Now what do we do? We’re to heck and gone in the boonies, and we have important information to get back to the authorities.”

“I think I know how to get you south in a hurry,” Marko said. “If you two are ready for a dicey new adventure.”

Johnny almost hooted. Hadn’t they had a whole bunch of dicey adventures already? How much worse could one more be?