Newly minted zombie, Sally Mertill, is kidnapped by a nondescript van in front of her fellow zombie and mentor – Bocnic Drewings or “Bo” as his friends call him. He can only guess why someone would take Sally: she can raise the dead. Bo is forced to seek out assistance from a self-serving witch named Zemra if he is going to save Sally. What he learns scares him. Sally’s surreal trek through a world of unimaginable creatures has brought her face to face against a menacing entity to outdo them all – the church’s secret division, The Cross. Bo must travel to Scotland, his birthplace. What bitter end awaits them once he frees Sally from their clutches?

TEMPERATURE: BITTER COLD

By Adam Santo

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 Adam Santo
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4772-7663-1

Chapter One

Hell is going to have a rough time finding them when I catch them, Bocnic fumed, fire in his eyes with that thought pounding his skull. The song "Wars" from Hurt still reverberated in his mind. It could have been one of Sally's premonitions speaking to him, or not. But, either way it fit all too well for him to ignore.

Bocnic stood on a dirt road looking down over steep drop-off after the van; watching the dust settle in its wake. He felt frustrated at not being able to do anything. The magic he commanded at his fingertips could not be used or unwanted attention might be drawn from lower on the mountainside where normal people could see an aftermath of his castings and think they were fireworks; prodding inquisitive people to investigate. Spells placed as boundaries around their camp had little chance of keeping curious onlookers from crossing them if they were compelled to find where the source of those flashes came from.

A far worse reaction would come from those remaining councilmembers, left to run the southern camp after Mathyas's untimely removal from power. Uses of magic so close to civilization brought with it punishments he had no time to deal with; besides, Sally was not liked much at the moment in camp and saving her from the Cross would be lowest on their list of things to do. He had to find one of the Neanderthals; Adelwin would be his best bet, if Sally had any chance of being saved.

Bocnic shot back up the mountain with all the strength he could muster. A single thought of Sally's salvation prodding his muscles faster. Their little camp bustled with activity, even from the outskirts of camp he could feel magic coursing from individuals for everyday chores. They worked against their own polices about magic here when menial tasks were done. Such a waste of resources, Bocnic squandered a moment's thought while he surveyed camp for his real purpose.

The one person he sought after was nowhere to be seen; an allusive Bigfoot he called Elder and friend. The landscape was cultivated by undead to hide them from most humans, it did the same thing now to Bo. A smattering of trees obscured any view from above, sending shadows to stretch out in all directions to confuse an observer's eye from a plane. Boundaries cast around supernaturally claimed lands protected the camp from any stray hikers stumbling onto land such as theirs and forcing them, without rising curiosity, to consider alternate paths. The Rocky Mountains was host to many different kinds of beasts and some that hunted back with a keen mind. Not safe for hiking alone anyway. Each claim a sanctuary for what goes bump in the night. His friend might have headed off to his.

Adelwin and those like him were from the Stone Age; a group considered as the missing link. They had a knack for keeping hidden, although some have caught glimpse of them and even got blurry photographs. Today he wished Adelwin was not so skilled at it. Not a single one of his brethren that came to save Sally from her misguided trial could be seen from where Bocnic stood. Panic surged, Bocnic had no other way to contact Adelwin otherwise if he had already left.

He ran through the center of camp where Sally had been on trial last night. A clearing amongst trees and shrubs, set aside for ceremonies or gatherings, was worn down to earthen soil in patches from centuries of foot traffic. They had done her wrong, Bo reflected.

Around him carts floated by without wheels loaded down by someone's belongings. Apparently, this one was moving to a new home. Relationships amid undead were just like living ones—someone was always getting kicked out over not doing the right thing or putting a cup down of a coffee table without a coaster. Life just continues to throw left hooks, and for undead it's eternally messed up. Wayward thoughts almost had Bocnic miss his name being called as he reached the clearing's edge.

"Bocnic!" A cranky old woman dressed in wrinkles called out. She wore clothing to cover her well enough, but the wrinkles tried to outdo her choice of wardrobe. "You're going to trip moving carelessly as you are," a bellowed, not much unlike a fog horn coming from a scratched record.

This was one person he wanted to avoid. Bo turned his attentions her way and sure enough caught a protruding rock he overlooked, falling flat on his face. Irritated from Zemra's distraction, he blurted out as he got up, "Was that a premonition or just good timing on your part?"

"I've told you too many times that I see the future as it will happen. Nothing more," she fired back confidently.

"Didn't go so well yesterday for you at Sally's trial," he replied back smugly. Bo dusted his clothes off after gathering up himself and his wits off the ground.

She showed a startled look before recovering as if what Bo said meant nothing to her, "I told you her fate was already set. I never told you she would fall to Mathyas," Zemra retorted with arms crossing under her breasts.

"I don't doubt you carry enormous power, because I've seen you use it. Although, lately things have been a bit too coincidental for me to believe some of your fortunetelling," Bo grinned as he spoke. "Besides, Mathyas was just one more pawn for you. His untimely ending only furthered your own end game."

Zemra breathed in deeply, letting it out in a huff. Eyes fixed on Bo with deadly intent, "Your presumptions—right or wrong—aren't doing you any justice to find Adelwin. I would also mind my words if I were you. Plenty of sinkholes in this shallow swamp you're treading in at the moment."

"What gave you that impression I was looking for him?" Bo twisted his words to keep some of the truth back from the witch. He had no idea how she might use it later.

"You're testing my patience," Zemra smirked wildly with a knowing zeal. "You flew into the clearing like an escaped Gorilla on a rampage, a panicked glaze set in your eyes. That leaves me to think something happened to Sally and Adelwin would be your first choice for help." She stared down to where Bo had fallen, contemplating, "Doesn't take a genius to put two and two together. Boy, I'm offering assistance free of charge. I almost never do things without extracting a price first. You'll need my help when this is all done with."

Zemra was playing a game he did not have a rulebook to follow along with. That kept Bo's tongue from flapping. It was never wise to cross a witch of any strength. They had a way of striking out in vengeance for being denied even something as seemingly simple as this olive branch she extended. He had to consider every angle she might be using against him. Bo found that well led to a bottomless pit of mischief.

Any answer he gave would be turned in her favor. Bo opted for a simple nod of acceptance, reaching out a hand to close the deal. Taking hold with a firm grip, Bo had not expected Zemra to be as strong as she was. Looking so frail must hide other traits she wishes no one to know about, Bo contemplated. He stood back from their handshake confounded. Something had crept up his arm after touching her skin. A familiar bonding spell cast between them. Nothing physical—mystical, as if a spell had been cast. Bo regretted taking her hand, playing into her game.

"Why'd you do that? You said your help came without a price, but I doubt that. You touched me with more than your skin," anger raised in his voice by degrees despite knowing it might cause retaliation from Zemra.

A crooked smile began to...