“You’ll be the spitting image of the Blondella in the mural, the only version of her they have,” said I. “Though, of course, zombies don’t spit, but still.”
She rattled the back of the case, her smile going horizontal in an instant. “It’s locked.”
I shrugged. “Sure, to anyone without a key.”
“You have a key, Creature?”
“Nope.”
She groaned. “Please, not that again.”
“I mean nope, don’t need one,” I replied. I stood before the case, atoms burbling and bubbling and super-colliding, the heat inside enough to melt, if only temporarily, even the coldness of death. I jumped as the beam exploded from my eyes, concentrated, thin, the metal lock turning from silver to molten red before promptly falling to the ground in a soft clink. “There you go,” I then said, the beam just as quickly flicked off.
“That does come in handy,” Lola said with an appreciative whistle that sounded more like a dying engine.
“Yes, that one never gets any easier. Don’t try snapping either. It just makes things worse.” And with that, I grabbed the clothes from the case and led us to a nearby bathroom.
Once inside, Lola began to get undressed. “Turn around, please,” she barked, modestly.
“Um, in case you’ve forgotten, I’ve already seen you naked.” I pointed to my X-ray vision eyes.
“Do you want to see me naked again, Creature?”
I blushed, which, like snapping and whistling, didn’t go over too well. “Oh, um, no thanks.” I turned around while she finished the job.
“Okay,” she proclaimed a short while later. Well, actually, it was a bit of a longish time later, seeing as a zombie changing in and out of clothes was only slightly less awkward than a zombie whistling or snapping or blushing.
In any case, I turned as Lola handed me the makeup kit. And makeup, zombie or not, was something I could still handle quite well, what with several centuries of practice, I mean. So, not twenty minutes later, there she stood, shorter than the real deal, slimmer, sure, but looking exactly like the queen in the mural just the same. “Amazing what a pound of makeup can do.”
Her face went instantly stony. “Halt! Silence! Kill them!” she then shouted, her voice echoing around the tiled room.
I grinned. “You look like her, sound like her and are easily just as bitchy.”
“Thanks . . . I think.”
We headed out of the bathroom, hanging her old clothes up where her new duds had previously been. From a distance, no one would be the wiser. I then prayed that no one would get up close in the near future.
While we were there, I had a look around. That is to say, a wide beam again popped out of my eyeballs, my X-ray vision slicing through the walls as easily as a Ginsu through a tin can. Round and round I went until the entire building had been scanned.
“Well?” she asked.
“Sorry,” I replied, rather glumly. “They’re not here, at least not in the museum. Though the island, apart from the hundreds of homes, is littered with other buildings. They could, in fact, be hidden anywhere.”
“But, more than likely, somewhere with the priestess,” she tacked on.
I nodded. “Again, that makes the most sense.”
“And if she’s holding them, wouldn’t it also make sense that they’re being guarded, perhaps with ample weapons?”
And still I nodded. “Yep, that would also make sense,” I reluctantly agreed. “Are you going somewhere with all this?”
She smiled, wickedly, looking so much like Blondella that I very nearly cringed. “Going, yes, as in you and me are going to her, the mountain going to Mohammed, as it were.”
“I’m Jewish, though. Or half. Non-practicing. Though come Chanukah, if you’re so inclined to bestow eight day’s worth of presents upon me, I won’t object.”
She sighed. I was having that effect on her. Go figure. “Okay then, Mount Sinai going to Moses, as it were, then. That better?”
I shrugged. “Suit yourself. But that eight-gift idea still stands.”
She shrugged, chuckled and wisely changed the subject. And the location. Meaning, we were out of there in no time flat and back inside the golf cart, the blanket now draped over the top, blocking us from anyone’s line of vision. I drove with nothing but my X-ray vision to lead the way. Was the covered cart an odd sight? Sure. But, then again, this was a town of nothing but drag queens, so odd was par for the course. Odd, in fact, was a hole in one. In fact, from the looks of things, anyone that spotted us merely clapped as if we were putting on a show.
“Applause,” I gleefully purred. “Ah, how I missed it.”
Lola patted my hand. “Welcome to the club then. Three hundred years of nothing but groaning does make a person miss the sound of two hands clapping. Even if these people haven’t a clue what in the hell they’re clapping for.”
I shot her a smirk as we continued onward. We were close now. So close that I could feel it.
Little did I know that we weren’t alone in that regard.
***
We reached the Statue of Liberty and pulled the cart right on up to the steps. I got out and ran to help Lola, whom I shielded with the blanket. Me they were allowed to see, had in fact seen before; her they could not, at least not yet.