Page 56 of Which Witch Is Wicked?
Reluctantly, Aerin had stomped the palms into the ground, staking them with her stilettos.
"Take that, you undead asshole." She paused, chewing on her lip and also a bit of shame. "Also... thank you for your service."
"This isn't working!" Claire called, swinging at a crowd of five zombies, barely holding them off.
One of them grabbed her hair, and Aerin lunged, fearing she was too far away to get to her sister in time.
"Speak for yourself!" Moira pranced over to Claire, the chainsaw running on full speed as she began to cut through the crowd like a knife through butter. "Yeeeeehaaaaw!" she hollered.
Though, as efficient as the chainsaw was at cutting through flesh like butter, it seemed to merely create two halves of a corpse, and that came with its own form of chaos.
A hand closed around Aerin's ankle, causing her to stumble. She looked down to see the long half of Pastor Bill latched to her, his creepy-ass eyes and half smile staring up at her from the ground.
"Fuck. This," she hissed, and dropped her ax.
The moment Pastor Bill went flying over the fence on a strong gust of wind to land in the street, Claire dropped her rake. "Hell isn't the only place you can burn, you undead bastard!" Fishing a lighter out of her pocket, she flicked it open and curled her hand around it, creating beneath an expanding ball of fire. "Here goes nothing," she muttered and tossed it at a group of three corpses lurching toward her.
They didn't explode so much as immolate.
"Did you guys see that?" she squealed. "That was my first fireball."
"What did I say about magic?" Tierra scolded, whacking a rather chompy teenaged kid right in the kisser. "Open another seal and we're dead meat!"
"That's only if four of us use magic at the same time," Claire pointed out.
"Yeah, don't use any of yours," Aerin said. "Hey, Claire, behind you!"
Claire whirled around, creating another fireball with her hands.
Aerin lent it strength, feeding it with oxygen.
"Uh, y’all?" Moira's worried voice sounded from behind them.
"Get it," Aerin hissed. "Bomb that fucker."
"Guys." Out of the corner of her eye, Aerin saw Tierra wave her arms, but Claire didn't see. She hurled her gigantic fireball at the zombie and the thing melted, leaving only bones.
"Yes!" Aerin celebrated, high-fiving her sister.
"Stop with the fire!" Tierra yelled.
"Why? It's working."
"No!" Aerin and Claire turned to see Moira pointing at the three flaming zombies stumbling around the yard. One had just bumped into the shed, setting the hundred-year-old wood structure on fire. "No, it ain't."
11
“Ican do something about this.” It took a second for Moira to reluctantly peel her fingers from the chainsaw. Closing her eyes, she flung her arms out, muttering an incantation under her breath. The sky over them darkened just as an armless zombie fireball set all the lavender and sage bushes ablaze, releasing a rather pleasant scent into the night.
Aerin swiped at three swarming crones and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a zombie policeman in his dress blues reach for the chugging Notorious RBG. “Moira, the chainsaw!” she yelled.
Startled, Moira was still able to kick the undead 5-0 out of the way in time to retrieve her precious weapon, but not in time to focus where her summoned clouds would dump their contents.
Claire screamed as the freezing deluge drenched her, smothering her latest fireball and making a mess of her leather. Only one of five burning bushes were extinguished, and not even a drop touched the shed.
“What the shit, Moira?” Claire called shaking water off her hands.
Moira didn’t answer until she’d carved through the cop and spat on his remains. “Excuse me, burning britches, but the only thing scarier’n a zombie is a zombie with a chain saw.”
