Hope and Undead Elvis - By Ian Thomas Healy Page 0,4
said.
Hip-deep sand poured in through the front door of the bar as Hope yanked it open. It was like the desert was trying to eat them. Choking dust filled the air, making Hope's eyes sting and her lungs burn.
Beside her, Undead Elvis pulled a microphone from somewhere inside his sparkling jumpsuit.
Hope coughed. "What are you doing?"
"I move better with a mic in hand." He cocked his hips in that way only Elvis could. "Uh-huh!"
"Oh, for God's sake!" Hope grabbed his outstretched hand and plunged into the onrushing sand. It was like trying to wade through deep snow. She knew somewhere above her was sun and clear air. The entire world couldn't be turning to sand, could it? She held fast to that belief as sand blinded her and tried to force itself into her nostrils. Undead Elvis's hand was like her compass; as long as she could feel his weight behind her, she knew she was still heading in the right direction.
Then instead of climbing, she was crawling, pulling herself up the side of a slippery sand slope as Yancy Cleveland's sank without complaint beneath the silica tide. The rushing hiss of the sand lessened to a whisper and Hope wasn't being pulled downward any longer. She gasped for air and coughed grain after grain of sand out of her lungs. At last, she rolled onto her back, eyes streaming from being scratched and felt like she ought to cry.
A moment later, she sat bolt upright. "Elvis?"
There was no sign of the undead man who'd been right behind her.
"Oh, Jesus. Elvis? Where are you? Can you hear me? Make a noise if you can hear me!" The only sound was blood thundering in her ears.
She dug.
Her nails broke and her fingers cracked and split as she flung away handfuls of the pernicious sand.
Nothing. He wasn't there. He couldn't be that much below the surface, could he? A frisson of terror shook Hope to the ends of her hair. She wondered if he'd disappeared the same as everything else had.
Alone. Her skin rippled with goosebumps in spite of the heat. What should she do? What could she do?
Just then, a blue-green hand clutching a microphone burst out of the sand only a few feet from her. Hope shrieked something wordless and flopped across the sand to close her hands around Undead Elvis's wrist. His other hand emerged from the sand to grasp one of hers. She pulled, straining against the greedy sand. Her feet started to dig in and for a moment she thought it had her as her ankles, then calves disappeared beneath the yellow mass.
Even as Hope sank into the sand, Undead Elvis came out, inch by inch. His head uncovered and his first words to her were "Don't y'all worry about a thing, Li'l lady. I got you."
"Yeah," gasped Hope. "But who's got you?" Nevertheless, she tugged and heaved and with a sucking sound, Undead Elvis's hips came free from the sand and she fell backward with him on top of her in a parody of coitus.
Spent, she gasped for air and coughed as dust flew into her lungs. His weight comforted her and she put her arms around him.
"Thanks kindly, Li'l lady." He didn't sound any worse for the wear. His voice was as mellow as ever. "I might've got out eventually, but it could have been a real long wait."
"I was afraid you were gone, like… like everything else. I was afraid I'd be alone here, wherever this is."
"Not if I can help it," he said.
"Why? What are you even doing here? I mean, you're dead, right? You died before I was even born."
"I did. I'm back, Li'l lady. Uh-huh."
"How? And why?" Another thought occurred to her. "Hey, get off me."
"Sorry 'bout that." He rolled off her and sat up in the sand. He blew grains off his microphone, almost going so far as to take off his sunglasses to examine it. "Can't say how it happened. All I know is, one day I knew I needed to be here, in this place, at this time. So I got up and came here."
"You're not making any sense." Hope looked around at the sandy, forlorn surroundings. Nothing but dunes as far as she could see in every direction. "I don't even know what I'm doing here," she said in a voice so soft it seemed the sand might swallow it up as well.
"Nevertheless, here we are, and it's the end of the world," said Undead Elvis.