Something Strange and Deadly (Something Strange and Deadly #1)(72)

During a normal day one’s footsteps went unheard, but now the high-ceilinged hall echoed with each click of my heels. The exhibits, the machines, and the looming Corliss engine were no longer feats of man’s ingenuity but places for the Dead to hide.

At last I reached the north exit with no sign of the spirit. Zooming into the hot sun, I shoved the goggles into my pocket and let my eyes adjust. A scan of the Exhibition grounds showed chaos.

Black smoke billowed, and flames flew at the firemen. The burning state buildings. And far in the distance, Agricultural Hall reached to the sky like a cathedral. Its gothic spires and stained glass windows were just visible above the trees and buildings before it.

I could see a long line of figures, and though these beings were too distant to clearly discern, I knew they were the Dead. With my skirts in one hand and the bat in the other, I kicked up my feet and ran toward the main road.

I reached the ice-water fountain in the middle of Belmont Avenue, and dashed around its white pavilion before skidding to a stop. There it was: an endless row of putrid corpses strung down an intersecting avenue. The smell of decay burst into my nostrils.

Like Daniel had said, the bodies simply stood. They were unmoving sentinels covered in buzzing, hungry flies. I marched onward and searched for a gap between them. There was none, so I chose the closest, most decrepit body in the wall as my target. I hefted the bat high and darted forward.

It was like a trigger went off once I got close. The corpses nearest me convulsed to life. Their decomposed limbs lifted, and they lurched at me.

I filled my lungs with air and focused on my target—a skinless skeleton held together by gristle. I swung back, and with a full-forced exhale, I let the bat fly for the skeleton’s knees.

It crunched immediately to the ground. No secondary attack was needed. Without a pause, I leaped over the crumpled bones and sprinted down the road. The shuffles and plops behind me meant the corpses followed, but I spared no glance. Nothing blocked me from the Government Building.

I pushed through the double doors of the Government Building’s northern entrance then I slammed them shut and slid the baseball bat between the door’s handles. If any Dead followed, I hoped that this would keep them out.

With my back pressed to a door, I gauged my surroundings. The Government Building was shaped like a large cross with two central transepts for exhibits from the federal departments of the United States. Directly before me was a tall lighthouse covered in prisms. It sent light beams and rainbows bouncing across my vision, and it illuminated the dust fairies dancing in the air.

Hanging from the rafters throughout the entire hall were American flags—some dating back to the American Revolution. The flags were still, and the silence was complete.

I was alone.

With my skirts held in one hand, I crept forward. I moved around the lighthouse and into the main walkway of the building. Where was the trunk? I knew I had seen the George Washington exhibit when I’d first visited the Exhibition weeks ago, but where?

I glanced right and left. The American flags made blurry stripes in the corners of my eyes. Sunlight glinted on glass exhibit cases. I smelled the mustiness of mounted animals. All sorts of creatures were displayed through this building, and the scent prompted my memory. The George Washington exhibit was near the stuffed, mounted polar bear.

I squinted, and at the southern end of the building, I could just make out an imposing white mass. That had to be the bear.

I inhaled deeply. Then I walked slowly and carefully toward it. I didn’t like the beady, sightless eyes of all the stuffed animals. They sent chills down my back.

As I passed an aisle of plaster fishes that hung on a low wall, the hair on my neck pricked and I froze midstep. I jerked my head right. Fins and tails streamed down the aisle and stopped at a glass case. I fumbled in my pocket and yanked out the goggles to check for spiritual energy. When I stared at the case, my vision was dark and hazy. Good. I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

But then the vision began to clear, and my heart began to pound.

I tiptoed to the case until I was only feet away, and I paused. My vision through the goggles was now fully clear except around the jars of preserved fish behind the case’s glass. There was definitely spiritual energy here.

A tap came from inside. My heart shot into my throat.

Another tap. Then more and more, getting faster and faster. I stared, paralyzed.

A loud crack splintered down the center of glass. The case shattered outward. Fluid sprayed and fish flew. I was doused in ancient preserving alcohol. Its sweet, noxious scent covered me. Bodies flapped against me, and fins sliced into my dress. At least the goggles protected my eyes.

I staggered back and then I bolted. Fish flopped on the floor around me. How was this possible? These things had been dead for years. The necromancer must be somewhere nearby.

I sped into the main transept, but I immediately stopped.

It wasn’t only the fish waking up—it was all the animals. Everything was awakening and lurching out of the displays. Directly before me, two oxen creaked into action. They were just as tall as I was, and with horns the length of my arm.

I sidled right and then threw myself onward. I heard stiff, heaving footsteps behind me, but I dared not look back. I needed a weapon—some protection. Why had I left the bat in the door handles?

The vision in my goggles had returned to its dirty blur. I ripped them off as I sprinted to the end of the building. I reached the aisle I needed, steered left, and scrambled to the exhibit. It was George Washington’s camp from the Revolution.