Chapter Seven

“So we’re just kind of winging it?” I asked as we walked back towards the bonfire. “You don’t get sent a map or anything?”
“No such luck.” Replied Yorick. “People get a vague sense of where to look, like Headcrow & I did with you, and Jeff did with The Morlock, but not a lot more.”
Around us, a hoard of figures of a wide variety of shapes were going grave to grave through the boneyard, inspecting gravestones & knocking on crypts. How they were then hearing any response I had no idea, but every so often they’d stop and cluster around a single location. Up on the hill, in front of the mansion, a steady stream of people were visiting the ghostly picnic on the lawn.
“What’s going on up there?” I asked.
“That’s where they’re handing out food.” Came a voice from the next row of gravestones. “Gonna be a long night to find this many arrivals if the primary can’t get their shit together.”
A furry spider the size of a cow stood halfway up and leaned its second pair of legs against some convenient masonry, waving a giant paper-wrapped sandwich in the air.
“The Mansion’s handling it because they’ve got bigger kitchens than anywhere else.” It continued, missing a frantic throat-slitting gesture from Yorick. “And they’ll be at it a while, from what I hear, because the primary’s barricaded themselves in a crypt and is screaming about it being a dream.”
Yorick was somehow rolling his eyes in despair when I glanced his way.
“Though I heard that there’s another primary, somehow,” The spider continued, settling in for a long chat and taking a bite of sandwich.
I looked down, trying to think of a way to interrupt, then lost all track of what it was saying as I stared at the gravestone in front of me.
“Anyone home?” Asked the spider, shaking me by one shoulder while Yorick put a hand on the other. “You alright there? Need something to eat maybe? You look kind of dead on your feet there.”
“Really!?” Shouted Yorick, echoed by Jeff from the top of a crypt somewhere off in the distance. I didn’t pay them much attention, but pointed to the inscription.
“That’s the brand name on a coffee mug in the office. People try to get that specific mug every day; Some even come in early.”
Yorick leaned over my shoulder to look, and the spider scuttled around to mirror his posture over my other shoulder.
“This mug thing? Is there something special about it?” The spider asked, then leaned past me to look at Yorick. “And I’m fucking hilarious. Don’t blame me if you can’t keep a sense of humour; Zombie jokes are always funny.”
“Not on their first day they’re not.” Muttered Yorick through gritted teeth. “On a first day they’re exceedingly unhelpful. Much like certain people I could name.”
“Completely normal mug.” I answered the spider. “With the branding of a Curry House on it. Nobody had ever heard of the place, and nobody knows how long it had been in the cupboard, but it became a sort of fun office joke to get the mug and claim the title on it for the day.”
The spider’s face somehow fell as it looked between the gravestone & me.
“Does that mean that you’re …?”
“Yes.” Said Yorick, flatly.
“And I’ve been …?”
“An eight-legged asshole!” Came a shout from across the boneyard.
Any further response was interrupted by some faint bangs from the grave in front of us.
Yorick gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder and pointed, so I dropped to my knees and leaned forward, trying to yell into the ground.
“Whoever you are, try not to panic. We’re getting you out, and you’re in no danger; It’s going to be OK.”
There was a pause, then some muffled yelling, impossible to make out. I looked up at Yorick.
“Can we do the thing with the glowing lights you used to talk to me?” I asked.
The spider had climbed onto a few neighbouring headstones and was waving in Jeff’s direction.
“We found one! Get a digging crew!”
“We?” Said Yorick. “You didn’t find a blessed thing. The primary here did the finding, you just ran your mouth and ate a sandwich.”
“To be fair, they’re really good sandwiches.” Jeff hurdled a few rows and landed beside us, carrying a bundle of tools over one shoulder. He rummaged in a pocket with his free hand and extracted a couple of bundles, which he tossed to Yorick and I. “Nicely spotted, dude.”
He dropped the tools and slapped me on the back.
“If we didn’t have a whole bunch of folks out there, I’d ask you to join the digging, but …” He trailed off, gesturing to the boneyard.
“I’ve got other places to be?”
“Yep!” Jeff picked up a spade and flicked a shovel in the spider’s direction with one foot, turned to look at the headstone, and raised an eyebrow. “You go find the next one; Archie and I will deal with the Spicy King here.”