Dead Man Running Page 9

"A herald of the resurrection of our savior. He is symbolic of all that is good and right in the black church. Reverend Wiley, I say on behalf of your church family, we all wish you God speed on Tuesday. May He bless you with another term. Amen."

  The audience stood and applauded. Jan stood and playfully yanked Wiley to his feet. The applause died as bug eyed Wiley scanned the congregation. Finally, he said, "God ain't got nothing to do with it!"

  A gasp, then silence.

  "Uh, okay. Thank you Reverend Wiley," Rutherford said from the pulpit. The man's been into his gin early today.

  Jan tugged on Wiley's jacket. Finally, he sat. The audience took their seats, some still murmuring.

  "And with those, um, inspirational words from our pastor, we'll have our liturgical dancers. Today they will perform a piece choreographed by Sister Riley. Sister Pace will read Psalm 14. Sister Pace?"

  Sister Pace walked up to the podium on the floor, cracked open her Bible. "The Lord looks down from Heaven on the sons of men."

  A half dozen dancers streamed into the church as the keyboardist played a soft melody. The dancers, carrying colorful scarves, were all ages, shapes and sizes.

  The sister continued her narration. "To see if there are any who understand, any who seek God. All have turned aside..."

  The dancers hid their faces.

  "... all have become corrupt. Is there no one who has done good? Not even one?"

  The dancers pantomimed someone looking out.

  At this, Wiley stood. Jan pulled on his sleeve but he would not sit down. Shit.

  The dancers paused for a moment, unsure, and then continued their dance.

  "Will evildoers never learn - those who devour my people..."

  Wiley raised both hands in the air. The oldest dancer shimmied over to him.

  "...as men eat bread..."

  The old woman took Wiley's hands. As Wiley moved to the rhythm the crowd applauded and laughed.

  "... and who do not call on the Lord."

  Wiley and the woman reached the main aisle of the church.

  "There they are, overwhelmed by dread."

  Wiley broke loose from the woman's hand. He danced gracefully up the aisle.

  "For God is present in the company of the righteous. You evildoers frustrate the plans of the poor..."

  Wiley executed a pirouette as the attendants opened the churches' huge double doors. Wiley glided out.

  "...but the Lord is their refuge."

  The congregation applauded while all heads were still turned toward the rear of the church, their beloved pastor having made a most glorious exit.

  Congressman Simmons leaned forward, a grin on his face. "Your story almost sounds comical, Mr. Turnbull. That zombie Ben Wiley was a real clown. When he wasn't killing folks, that is."

  Elias nodded. "I have to admit, I did do a lot of laughing back then."

  Simmons' smile disappeared. "But not later."

  Elias looked away for moment, and then returned his eyes to Simmons. The two men shared a look for a half minute. "No, sir. Not later. There wasn't much to laugh about later."

  "When did this turn serious for you, Congressman Turnbull?"

  "When he showed up. When the clown removed his mask and claimed his true nature." He looked down, brushed invisible debris from the pristine desk. His eyes swam in tears.

  "Are you ready to proceed? I can give you a few minutes."

  Elias laid his hands back on the desk, spread his fingers wide. He stared at his hands, wondering for the millionth time why he was still alive. He wiped his eyes.

  Finally he returned his gaze to the Iowa Republican.

  "I'm ready," he said. "I warn you, it gets darker from here on out."

  Simmons straightened himself in his chair, quickly glanced to his left and right.

  "Go on then, Mr. Turnbull. Take us into the darkness."

  TEN

  On election night the Wiley hotel suite was a very busy place. Amidst scurrying campaign staff, Elias worked the phones, one in each ear and a Blackberry in his hand. One of those workers, a tall, good looking white girl named Mira – introduced to him by Jan – would be the proverbial cherry on top of his sundae. This was his day, the day when Elias Turnbull became Harlem's next congressman for life!

  Mira Hidar had no official function in the busy space. Unofficially she watched as Jan Sugerfoot poured the green elixir into a champagne flute for her zombie lover. The young woman had already reported the success of the pink elixir, the one that governs the zombie's physical self.

  Mira had spent the night in the Wiley brownstone. Jan had been excited with her face flush, as she appeared in the doorway of the guest bedroom at the Wiley home.

  How excited the woman got with a good boning, Mira thought. Here she was, at the precipice of tremendous power and she's thinking with her pussy. Now Mira liked a stiff one as well as the next girl but she preferred her men to be alive. Like the handsome Mr. Turnbull – she wouldn't mind if he survived this evening and joined 'team Wiley'. She saw his not so surreptitious looks and would be happy to return his interest.

  Four flat screens were blaring away with the latest returns. In the middle of this activity, Jan and Wiley sat in a love seat watching the televisions. Jan handed Wiley the champagne flute and whispered in the zombie's ear. Wiley obediently drank the liquid. Simultaneously, Mira said a brief incantation under her breath. If anyone asked, it would look like she was praying for the candidate's success. What she was really doing was placing a spell on Wiley like she had the night before when he had been given the pink elixir.

  What Jan Sugerfoot did not realize was that both elixirs were placeboes, they had no power. Her grandfather had told the woman that the elixirs were required in order to give Mira an 'in', to create an artificial, ongoing dependence on the Hidar's while keeping them close to Wiley.

  Her grandfather had treated Wiley with the real transformative elixir – a blue concoction – when he had deposited the transformed Mookie Sills back at the Wiley house.

  It was a shame what Wiley and Mookie had done to Chi Bright. More of that 'collateral damage', thought Mira.

  Incantation complete, Mira knew that soon Benjamin Wiley would be reborn – a sentient being, physically stronger and more fit than he had ever been in his first life.

  On the television tuned to a local channel, an anchorwoman read the election results. "In the fifth district, with ninety percent of the vote counted, Representative Kaczynski has easily defeated his Republican challenger. We'll now go to ...."

  The perky blonde grew silent as something was obviously being said in her earphone. "We have breaking news, additional returns as in from the Fourth Congressional District. Eyewitness News Channel Twenty-One now projects Ben Wiley as the winner."

  The crowd in the hotel room cheered. Jan kissed Wiley on the cheek.

  "With seventy-five percent of the vote counted, Wiley has an overwhelming lead with eighty-four percent of the vote. We now go to Justin Crowe, who is speaking at the Waldorf with some elated Wiley supporters."

  Crowe stood in the middle of a jubilant crowd. Loud rap music blasted in the background.

  "Thanks, CJ, I'm here with Mr. Harcourt Bines, a long time supporter of Congressman Wiley. Mr. Bines, what does this election mean to you?"

  "Well sir, this means that Harlem will be treated well for another two years. We couldn't be in better hands than with Reverend Wiley. There are a lot of people in this room who would give their lives for the man."

  "Mr. Bines, there's rumors floating around about the Reverend's somewhat strange recent behavior. Does any of that bother you?"

  "Not at all. I know that's the Devil's way, and the white man's way, of trying to tear a good man down."

  "Uh, thank you, Mr. Bines." The surf blonde pretty boy took a generous step away from the elderly black gentleman.

  "CJ, back to you."

  The anchorwoman once again occupied the screen. "Thank you, Justin."

  Elias, trailed
by the campaign photographer, strutted over to Wiley. With a broad smile for the camera, he grabbed Wiley's hand and shook it with two of his own.

  "Go set up for the congressman's entrance into the hall," said Elias to the photographer. He waved away the other campaign workers. "Everyone can go downstairs and have something to eat and drink. We've won! Time to party!" The workers cheered and nosily filed out of the room.

  Jan stood. "Shouldn't Wiley go downstairs and make his acceptance speech?"

  "No, we have to wait for our opponent to concede."

  "Too bad, Ben wants to go down and dance."

  Wiley's feet shuffled underneath him to a rhythm of unknown origin.

  Elias' cell phone rang. "Elias. Speak." He listened, smiled broadly. "Auditor General Capshaw, of course I will put Reverend Wiley on the phone."

  He placed the phone on speaker and sat it on the table in front of Wiley.

  "Reverend Wiley, I would like to congratulate you on a tremendous victory tonight."

  Wiley looked around with the blank look, and then said, "Please grant me these simple things..."

  "What's that Reverend Wiley?"

  "... a stiff dick and a warm place to put it."

  The auditor general clicked off.

  "And don't let me cum too quick. Amen."

  "And with that," said Elias, "I think it's time to go downstairs."

  In a ballroom across town Delores Capshaw approached the podium. Humphrey and a few supporters were on stage. The room, more than half empty with no music playing, was death itself.

  The candidate reached the podium and adjusted the microphone. "Thank you for coming." The sound echoed throughout the cavernous space.

  "I would like to say we ran a good, hard campaign. We didn't. I would like to say we lost to the better candidate. We didn't. We lost to a candidate under criminal investigation, spouting nursery rhymes and profanity wherever he went. All I can say is, Harlem, you got what you deserve. I'm out of here!"

  Capshaw stormed away from the podium, Humphrey close behind.

  Jan and Wiley stood.

  Elias pointed a thumb toward Mira, still standing next to the television. "What's she still doing here?"

  "I asked her to stay," said Jan. Elias looked from Jan to the pretty woman and back to Jan. Suddenly, he felt outnumbered.

  "Could we have a word with you before we head down?" Jan asked.

  "We?" He eyed the women with suspicion. "I guess. Hurry it up. I've gotta get downstairs to declare my victory."

  Jan motioned toward the bedroom. "Let's talk in there in case someone wanders back into the suite."

  Elias, Mira, Jan and Wiley walked onto the bedroom.

  Elias immediately noticed his boyhood friend. "Mookie! When did you get here?" Mookie stood in the corner, wearing dark sunglasses.

  "Mookie? What up?" Still his friend did not react.

  "Elias, first I want to say how pleased Wiley is with how you handled the election."

  Elias turned his attention from Mookie to Jan. "What? He's a zombie, how would he know what I did?"

  "He knows more than you think. For example, he knows that you plan to get rid of him tonight."

  "Amen," said Wiley.

  "And he knows that he doesn't want that to happen."

  Wiley grunted.

  "I hope he speaks fish, 'cause he'll be talking to them tonight."

  "I don't think so. You see, Mookie has something to show you."

  Mookie shuffled to his left, revealing the upper half of Chi's head lying on the thick carpet.

  Elias leaped back in horror as he recognized his best friend's sleepy eyes.

  "Chi tried to stop us and this is what happened to him," said Jan.

  Elias' body shook. "I, uh, I was just kidding about the fish. I wouldn't harm a hair on his dead head. You and I can come to some arrangement. I got a sudden opening for a job paying 110Gs on my staff..." Elias attempted a smile but could not part his dry lips.

  "I don't think so. I have a job, Mrs. Ben Wiley."

  Jan gazed up at Wiley with her most loving and adoring look. "We're to be married."

  "You're crazy lady. He is dead!"

  Mira stepped in front of Elias. "We haven't been properly introduced, Mr. Turnbull, Elias. My name is Mira Hidar. Hamid is my grandfather. I think you need to listen to Ms. Sugerfoot. You have an opportunity to be part of something great – a political revolution led by the undead Ben Wiley. With your help Ben can become a bigger player in Congress, perhaps leading to the White House."

  "I can be First Lady," smiled Jan.

  "I see," he said. Elias smiled, nodded. "I'm interested now. I can see the possibilities. How do you ladies plan to make this happen?" He shifted his body slightly farther into the room, away from the door but now the dead twins were stacked in front of him like dominos.

  "Elias, we can 'influence' one congressman at a time using our magic. Pretty soon Ben, and you, will be the most powerful men on the Hill."

  Elias looked at the dark haired woman. "You're a witch?"

  Mira shook her head. "I don't like that term. Let's say I have magical skills."

  "And by influence you mean to make them like Ben."

  "Exactly," Mira replied.

  Elias nodded, pretended to be considering their plan. Of course, it was insane. How could a zombie become president? How could they get away with turning Congress into a bunch of zombies?

  Elias tensed his body to make a break for it when Wiley's hands went to his face.

  "Think, think, think….," the zombie chanted. All eyes went to Wiley and Elias knew this was his chance.

  He stiff armed Mookie and the eager zombie toppled into the still babbling Wiley. Elias sprinted around the two bodies sprawled on the carpet, elbowing Jan in the gut as she reached out for him.

  "Dinner time boys!" he heard Jan say as he exited the suite.

  The former high school quarterback headed for the elevator bank. He hit both the down and up buttons.

  Mookie slowly made his way down the hall toward him.

  Elias hit both buttons again. The up elevator finally arrived. Elias jumped into the empty elevator. He punched the close door button.

  Mira reached the elevator and attempted to keep the doors open but Elias kicked her in the chest, the blow sending her crashing against the wall opposite the elevator. "Magic that bitch," he shouted.

  The door finally closed just as Mookie reached it.

  The elevator travelled only one floor and stopped at the roof. Elias exited the elevator onto the dark, cold roof. He looked for another way down besides the elevator and found none.

  While walking the roof, he heard the elevator ping. It had returned.

  Jan, Mira and Mookie exited the elevator. "Come out, Elias. We've reconsidered. We'll let you continue as chief of staff."

  Elias crouched behind an air compressor. "What, from inside Wiley's stomach? No thanks!"

  "Have it your way!" Jan said.

  Suddenly, Mookie appeared next to the compressor.

  "Shit!" Elias quickly got to his feet and ran toward the center of the roof. There, twin two story flag poles sat: one, with the American flag, and the other with the New York state flag.

  Elias started to climb.

  "You can't get away," said Jan.

  "Hah! Don't you know zombies can't climb?" Elias smiled grimly as he scaled the narrow ladder. All he had to do was to remain atop the flagpole until help arrived.

  People sit on top of flag poles for days, right?

  Elias reached the top of the pole. The wind was tremendous as he scampered onto a small platform. The platform, obviously used for maintenance purposes, was partially enclosed and featured a safety strap. Elias buckled the strap around his waist.

  "I win! You'll have to eat someone else tonight, fellas!"

  Elias looked down and realized for the first time that he had not seen Wiley. Where was he?

  He heard the elevator ping. Wiley, walking with an ease Elias had n
ot seen the man exhibit in twenty years, sauntered over to the flagpole. Even from this distance, he noticed the animated face, one lacking the bug eyes. When Wiley's face turned toward him, Elias saw an intelligence that was frightening.

  "Elias, come down here right now." The zombie smiled. "I have a victory speech to give." He looked at his watch. "Think of my supporters, our supporters. You see, you and I are a team. As Ms. Hidar said, we are the vanguard of a revolution."

  "You're going to kill me," Elias shouted. His words seemed to be caught on the wind but somehow the zombie had heard.

  Wiley looked at Jan, Mira and Mookie in turn. He stepped in front of Jan and looked in her eyes. "My beloved, please tell Elias that we mean him no harm." Jan attempted to speak, but could not. She was shocked at the power of the elixir, and couldn't help but wonder if giving Wiley this much 'life' was a good thing after all.

  She looked into those eyes, no longer dead but alive. There was something else there, too, tenderness toward her, maybe love. Jan Sugerfoot had never known love but she thought she saw it in Wiley's eyes. She finally gained her voice: "Of course, darling, I don't want to harm Elias. We need his political skills to get us to the White House."

  Wiley smiled at his fiancée then turned his head upward to the man on the flagpole.

  "I was delayed coming up here, Elias. You can see my transformation is complete. I have to admit I was a bit awkward at first and unable to get up quickly after Mookie toppled me to the floor. As I got to my feet I became aware of the phone ringing. I had the prescience and good fortune to answer it. It was Marine Two, the First Lady's helicopter. She said that she was en-route to our location and that she wanted to speak to me. She believes that I can help her husband, the president."

  At that moment, Elias heard the sound of an approaching helicopter. From the south, just past the Statue of Liberty, he spied the large aircraft.

  "I believe that's her now, Elias. Still think the White House is out of reach for us?"

  The sound of the helicopter grew louder. Elias considered what to do. If this new and improved Wiley was lying, they could have Mookie kill him and toss him off the roof before the First Lady landed. If he wasn't lying and he truly wanted Elias to continue as his chief of staff…."