Page 6 of Grave Humor

“I knew something was amiss, but I didn’t know what. They discussed a sacrifice, likely you, and that the time of renewal was nigh. They were right on that score. The land’s lifeblood once again flows freely, so here I am. I do find my current attire perplexing, however.”

“It’s a suit. Sure, it’s a bit old fashioned, but it’s just a suit.”

“You presume these suits were worn the last time I freely walked the lands, Miss Nash. They didn’t. I suppose they may have been worn during some of my brief awakenings, but I have never seen this sort of attire before. Suits, you say? No matter. That was then, this is now. I’ve no interest in the year, either, mind you. It means nothing to me. What sort of men wear these suits? The impoverished?”

I shook my head. “The wealthy eccentric might like a suit like that.”

“That will do nicely. I will have to thank my caretaker, assuming it’s not this unfortunate fellow. Tell me. Do you know who my caretaker is in this era?”

His guess was as good as mine, but I was inclined to believe the unfortunate fellow in the drum was responsible for the newly awakened man. I pointed at the container of formaldehyde. “He’s as likely as anyone else. I’ve no idea. Honestly, I thought Director Hammel was in charge of you.”

Had I known our John Doe was more than just an odd stiff on ice, I might’ve taken him out of the freezer and thawed him myself. Not only did he appeal to the eyes, I liked his voice despite his tendency to annoy me.

“That ignoramus buffoon couldn’t take charge of a carriage let alone me. Really. There’s no need to be insulting. Do you know who that fellow is?”

Considering I couldn’t see his face, I’d have to drain the drum or pull him out to find out. Would the fumes kill me if I dumped the chemical onto the floor? Considering the fumes were already getting to me, I expected they would. Screwing the lid into place and letting someone in a hazmat suit deal with the body was the wisest option, so I held my breath and secured the lid. Despite being the stabilized solution, my eyes burned. Backing away, I went to the staircase to breathe in cleaner air. “Are you strong enough to move that?”

“I’m not sure I want to move it, seeing your adverse reaction to it.”

“Well, despite that being a more stable form of the stuff, it’s pretty damned toxic.”

“Where do you want me to put it?”

I pointed at the drain. “Next to that so if it continues to leak, it leaks into the toxic waste reservoir beneath the floor. There’s some magic down there that keeps the toxins below where they belongs. Don’t knock it over. I’d rather not die today if avoidable.”

“How toxic is pretty damned toxic?”

“All they would have had to do to kill him is hold him near the vat without protections and wait a few minutes for the fumes to do him in.”

“How uncouth.”

“They use it to preserve dead bodies.”

“I’ll be most careful with it. Do stand back. I wouldn’t want my new sacrifice to prematurely expire on me. It’s really rare I get to have such fun at my awakening.”

If staying in a freezer for decades couldn’t kill him, what could? I retreated up the stairwell, which should have had the best ventilation in the entire basement. However, someone had turned the fans off, and when I checked the switches, I discovered they were in the proper position.

Someone had turned the ventilation system off from upstairs. That led me to believe the arrogant asshole moving the drum had the right idea, and that Director Hammel meant to kill me, too.

It made sense. Nobody would miss me.

Well, shit.

I really wanted to get some honey rocks and write the whole week off. Without the gift card, I had some chocolate pudding and a few dollars to tide me over until my next pay in a few days. I would enjoy the chocolate pudding, especially as I had a new jug of milk in my fridge. Unfortunately, according to my bank account, I couldn’t afford the honey rocks until I was paid, and by then, I’d do the responsible thing and make sure I had enough staples to get me through to my next check.

Living paycheck to paycheck sucked.

“I’ve moved it. What now, Miss Nash?”

“Good question,” I muttered, returning to the preparation room. “They turned off the ventilation system.”

“I don’t understand what that means. Please explain.”

“It means that if we spill that drum or there are more fumes, I’ll die. I’ll suffocate. They turned off the air flow into the basement. Unless they open the door or turn on the elevator to let me out, I’m screwed. And by screwed, I mean I will be the next corpse down here.”

“Are you always so pessimistic?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. If you pull that corpse out so we can get a better look at him, I’ll just die a little faster, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.” I sat on the bottom step and stretched out my legs, as hugging my knees and crying wasn’t a great way to go and would deplete the oxygen in the basement faster. “I hope Old Man McGregor scares the piss out of those assholes upstairs. That would serve them right. I didn’t even do anything wrong this time.”