Something Strange and Deadly

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Authors: Susan Dennard
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amazing display of hydraulic art.
    But what stunned me was that in the middle of it all stood Joseph. His arms were outstretched, his eyes were squeezed shut, and the water reached his waist.
    A hand grasped at my skirts. I spun around, and in the same movement, my parasol connected with something. It made a jellylike thud. I had toppled the body of a child dressed in a blue gown, and it was now clawing at me from the ground.
    The burn of bile rose in my throat, and I staggered back until I hit the fence surrounding the pool.
    The Dead shuffled forward. They were impeded by rows of benches that surrounded the pool, but there was something else—something more. These corpses moved as if they slogged through waist-deep mud. The corpses I’d first encountered hadn’t been nearly so slow.
    â€œJoseph needs the machine,” Daniel rushed to tell the Chinese boy. “You have to hold ’em off while I get it running.” He spared a quick glance for me before dashing to a bench on which sat the glass machine.
    â€œTime to fight,” the Chinese boy said to me. Then he moved to intercept the nearest Dead.
    I stood, momentarily lost. What was about to happen? We couldn’t smash kneecaps indefinitely—there were just too many.
    A sharp pop sounded beside me as blue flashed in the corner of my eye. It was the machine, its wheels spinning and electricity sparkling.
    â€œJoseph!” Daniel roared. “The machine is ready.”
    So there was a solution, and that machine was somehow it. The realization spurred me to move.
    I swiveled back toward the pool. Joseph moved to the edge, swaying dangerously with each step. His hand reached out as if grabbing for help. I rushed to the guardrail, my hand extended; and with much heaving, I dragged his sopping figure from the pool. The instant his feet left the water, the stampeding sounds of the Dead grew louder.
    The corpses were no longer slow. In fact, they shambled forward at a brisk walk—too quickly for the Chinese boy to stop them. I raced to help as Joseph ran to the popping machine.
    But there were too many. Fingers and teeth and waxy flesh were everywhere. I swung and shoved and swung and shoved.
    Daniel’s voice howled over the fray, “Now!”
    The Chinese boy whirled around, seized me, and lugged me behind a bench. Just before I dropped, I saw Joseph shove his hand directly into the machine’s electricity.
    A bright, blue light exploded overhead, and a thunderous boom cracked through the annex. Then came the thud and slap of corpses as they hit the ground.
    I craned my neck and peered over the bench. The walking Dead had collapsed where they stood.
    It took several moments for me to comprehend that it was over and I was safe. I eased painfully onto the bench. My muscles screamed their exhaustion and had already begun to stiffen from overuse.
    The Chinese boy rose from our spot on the floor. He looked down at me. “Thanks for helping.” His voice was high and soft. He poked his thumb at his chest. “I’m Jie.”
    â€œEleanor,” I answered, gesturing wearily to myself. “Wh-what do we do now?”
    â€œI get people to help us clean before the flies come. You help Joseph, yeah?” He bounded off without a glance back, and with no regard for his feet hitting flesh and bones.
    I winced, glad that the roar of the water blocked the sound of his footsteps. The cool mist also kept some of the rotten scent at bay. I pushed myself up and shuffled toward Daniel and Joseph, who both lay in a heap on a bench nearby.
    â€œWhat just happened?” I asked. “With the machine? And why were you in the fountain?”
    â€œNow’s not the time,” Daniel grumbled. He rose, slid an arm under Joseph, and helped the bedraggled man rise. I lurched forward and added support to Joseph’s other side.
    â€œ Mèrsi ,” Joseph murmured. His eyes were glassy and his breathing rough.
    We shuffled

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