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MillionNovel > Mostly Dead [A Paranormal Urban Fantasy] > 7. Facelift ?

7. Facelift ?

    The deafening roar of the engine broke through the stillness as Cali arrived in a pickup truck. Its body shimmered with a vivid turquoise. The headlights cut through the darkness like knives, revealing a chaotic tableau of destruction. Shards of glass glinted in the harsh beams, scattered debris littered the ground, and the twisted remnants of a recent struggle were illuminated in stark detail.


    My legs gave out beneath me, and I stumbled towards a nearby post, my hands grasping at the rough, weathered wood for support. The gravel beneath my feet crunched loudly as Cali came running over, her boots kicking up small clouds of dust in her wake. Her eyes were wide with alarm and worry, her blonde hair tousled and wild. A metallic tang filled the air, mixing with the sharp smell of burnt rubber and sending shivers down my already trembling spine. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, dulling the pain but heightening my senses as I weakly returned Cali''s concerned gaze. My vision blurred, and I struggled to stay upright against the post, a puppet with frayed strings.


    "Jack!" Cali exclaimed, her voice laced with concern as she rushed to my side.


    I tried not to bleed on her overalls. Her smooth features were etched with worry as she slipped an arm around my waist, supporting me as I struggled to climb into the passenger seat. I settled into the worn leather seat as Cali slid behind the wheel. The powerful engine roared to life. The scent of Nightstone filled my nostrils as we drove off into the night.


    "Just ran into a bit of trouble," I muttered through gritted teeth, unable to hide the grimace of pain that crossed my face with every movement. My voice was harsh and strained, and I clutched my neck reflexively. "Thanks for coming."


    Cali''s voice, touched with a gentle Southern twang, wrapped around me like a warm embrace, making the world feel just a little less cold. “For devil’s sake, Jack.” Her eyes were filled with kindness and concern. "Let''s get you sorted out and figure out just what kind of mess you''ve gotten yourself into this time." Her gaze wandered over my battered form, tracing the angry red cuts and dark bruises that marred my skin.


    Cali’s worried eyes flickered between the road and my face. “Jack, you look like hell. What happened to you?"


    As the truck sped through the night, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the side mirror. She wasn’t wrong.


    I hesitated, trying to find the words. “It’s... complicated.”


    Her brow furrowed. "Complicated? Like how? You owe someone money complicated? Or you picked a fight with a werewolf again complicated?"


    I forced a weak smile. “No, more like I had a run-in with Death. Literally.”


    She scoffed. “Death, huh? Well, that’s new.” She paused, glancing at me. “He stop by for tea and cookies?”


    “Not exactly,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.


    The truck drove on, its engine a steady, comforting growl, filling the silence that followed. We passed the exit to my place. “Where are you taking me?”


    “The hospital, where else?”


    “No, Cali. We can’t. We need to keep this under wraps.”


    She looked at me like I had just suggested she eat a dead slug off the sidewalk.


    “Oh sure, because patching you up in my garage is the smart play. I think I''ve got a new carburetor that should do the trick. Jack, you’re half-dead!”


    "Cali, I''m undead."


    She snorted with the kind of refined elegance that only comes from years of perfecting the art of not giving a damn.


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    “You’re telling me you’re a zombie now?” She glanced me over, more intently this time, stealing quick looks while keeping her eyes on the road.


    “Yeah,” I said, trying to keep it casual. “Undead, reanimated, Death’s errand boy. Take your pick.”


    She smiled, brushing it off with a shrug, like it was just a bad joke. Which, in a cosmic way, it was. But then, as the warm glow of streetlights swept across my face, I saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes—a subtle shift I couldn’t miss. I didn’t envy the rollercoaster she was on tonight—first the shock of hearing my voice crackle over the pay phone, desperate, then helping me shamble up, and now this. I caught the moment it hit her that I wasn’t joking. But still, she couldn’t fully accept it. I had to rip off the band-aid.


    "Look." I turned on the light in the cab so she could see me clearly. A bloody gash was open across my throat, and three lines were bleeding from my side where the demon clawed. My face was puffy from the waterlog. Anyone else in my state would be dead. Well, I guess I was no exception.


    I cursed as she nearly sent us careening off the road. The tires screeched, the truck fishtailing before jerking to a stop. She threw me a sideways glare, caught between exasperation and disbelief.


    “Satan on skis, Jack! What the hell is going on? Fighting demons is one thing, but this? What kind of mess have you dragged yourself into this time?"


    I explained the series of events leading up to my death and the surreal conversation with the Eternal. Cali took a deep breath, her grip on the steering wheel loosening and tightening. After I finished the story, silence hung heavy between us, a long pause that made me wonder if she was about to throw me out of the truck.


    “Only you, Jack. Only you.” Her voice was soft, almost as if she wasn''t speaking to me at all.


    Slowly, she shook her head, her gaze drifting off into the distance as cars streaked past like steel bullets, racing toward whatever destiny awaited them. She took another deep, slow breath, gave a subtle nod, and shifted the truck back into gear. She shot me a smile, as if nothing was wrong—and for a moment, I almost believed it. She had that way about her, an unshakable faith that everything was just as it should be, part of some hidden plan. I wished I had even a drop of that certainty.


    “Alright, zombie boy. Let’s get you patched up at the shop.”


    She hit the gas, and we were back on the road, speeding towards her garage. The tension slowly eased, replaced by a strange sense of normalcy in the midst of the chaos. I leaned back, feeling the weariness creep in.


    The steady hum of the engine lulled us into a comfortable silence as we drove down the winding road. My friend smiled genuinely as she started talking again. "I finally finished fixing her up," she said, her voice filled with pride. "She’s waiting for you back at the shop. And I even managed a few improvements."


    She shifted gears effortlessly. I furrowed my brows, concern etched on my face. "Improvements?"


    Cali grinned mischievously and reassured me, "You''ll love it, you big grouch."


    I reached out to pat her shoulder in friendly thanks, but a sharp pain shot through my body like a bolt of lightning, causing me to recoil in agony. Every movement felt like being stabbed with hot knives, and I gritted my teeth to hide the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes.


    "You''re the most skilled mechanic I''ve had the pleasure of knowing. If I trust anybody with her, it’s you."


    Cali chuckled, the sound light and melodic. "And don''t you dare forget it." Her eyes, bright and sparkling like stars in the night sky, radiated with pride and confidence as she playfully nudged me with her elbow. I squashed the pain down.


    We reached her place, a modest apartment behind her family’s fuel station and repair shop. She helped me inside, her touch careful yet firm. Martin, her scruffy mutt with one ear flopped over and a tail that never stopped wagging, came over at the noise. He hesitated at first, but after sniffing me for a moment, he started nuzzling my leg. I petted him absentmindedly.


    Cali guided me to sit on a stool in the kitchen. She turned on the light and got her first good look at my entire body. Her eyes widened, and she took a sharp breath, clearly trying to keep it together.


    “How bad is it? Give it to me straight.”


    "You look like a half-eaten dog biscuit," she said.


    “Don’t hold back now.”


    “You look like you lost a fight with a wood chipper. Like last month''s meatloaf.”


    “Okay, okay, I get it.”


    “You ever see a pi?ata after a kids'' party? It''s kind of like that, except they didn''t stop after they got the candy.”


    “Alright already.”


    She left for a moment and rustled around in the shop. She came back with black tape, a first aid kit, needle and thread, a few vials, and a mirror. Taking the mirror, I inspected myself under the harsh kitchen light. She wasn’t kidding.
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