Wanted: Undead or Alive

Storage

The moment Nick's office door closed behind us, Mx. Landry slipped a fresh cigarette from their pocket and put it between their lips. A little flame popped out of their fingertip and they used it to light their smoke.

I tripped over my feet. "That's a cool trick."

They waved my words away."It's nothing." Their chest puffed out a bit.

We went to the reception area. The half-wall swung open as we approached, and Mx. Landry propped their cigarette in a crystal ashtray with a layer of ash stuck to the bottom. They turned to the blank wall behind the desk and moved their hands like they were conducting a choir. The wall faded and vanished.

"Whoa."

Mx. Landry croaked. They gestured for me to enter the newly opened space. "The supply closet. Now you have access."

The room was as big as an airport hangar. 

Mentally, I reviewed the layout of the subterranean space. The elevator opened into the small lobby with its window. The security door was beside the window. When I walked through security, Mx. Landry's office--the space behind the window--was to my left. Nick's office was on that same side of the hallway, maybe ten or fifteen feet down the hall. I stepped back and looked around the corner. toward Nick's office door. It was right where I remembered.  I stepped forward again looked into the room. The far end of it, which should have abutted the nearest office wall, was a dim shadow in the distance. It had to be at least three times the size of the store above us.

"This room's a cool trick, too."

They retrieved their cigarette and led me forward. Shelves, twenty feet high, groaned under a burden of wooden shipping crates, clear plastic bins full of bubble wrapped items, racks of weapons, and, in one section, what appeared to be large car parts. Maybe they had a battery I could borrow.

For some reason, it seemed like a stellar idea to make a joke. "Is the Ark of the Covenant in here?"

My escort stopped dead and spun on me. "Why would you ask that?"

I took a step back. "I saw something like that in a movie once."

Their eyes narrowed. Twin streams of smoke drifted out of their nostrils. "Go that way." They pointed down an aisle that led to the wall on our left.

I went without further comment or question, but now I was looking for boxes with "Ark," or "AOC," or something similar stamped on the side.

We came to a stop in front of a set of shelves housing rows of three-ring binders. Mx. Landry dragged a rolling ladder over and, with their cigarette clamped between their thin, painted lips, climbed to the top shelf. This gave me a fabulous view of their chunky-heeled, hand-tooled pink leather boots. Sequin accents sparkled in the overhead lighting. They chose a binder, climbed down, chose another binder from a shelf at eye-level, and dropped both folders into my arms.

"The one on top will tell you what a nukekubi is. Sometimes we bond someone of a kind we don't know much about, but those are rare instances. Twelve thousand variations among the Earth-dwelling creatures alone. It's hard to keep track of every single mutation, but generally, Nick won't post bail if he isn't sure what he's getting into." They flicked their ash onto the concrete floor. "The other book is The Code." They pointed to a shelf ten feet long and twenty feet tall, full of matching, heavy, hardbound volumes. "Actually, that's The Code." They tapped the binder. "This is the Cliffs Notes version."

All the questions in my mind rushed forward at once, creating a bottleneck that wouldn't allow any of them to exit my mouth before Mx. Landry started walking back the way we came. We crossed all the way through the center of the room and took a left turn one aisle before we reached the opposite wall. Weapons of every conceivable size and shape surrounded us—everything from crossbows to what I guessed to be a grenade launcher. I spotted an entire shelf full of medievil-looking swords, and another that held things that looked like the phasers on Star Trek.