Cyrus LongBones and the Curse of the Sea Zombie
Chapter 8

HOBLKALF’S WAR

CYRUS AND HIS BROTHER burst into the town hall, past the mayor’s secretary and straight into Mayor Hoblkalf’s office.

“Mr. Mayor, we need your help,” Niels demanded, “My Mom’s fallen into a pit, and she’s going to die if we don’t do something!”

The ninety-two-year-old man sat slouched in his chair, snoring like a pig. Cyrus felt he resembled a shriveled potato that smelled of wet boots and cigar smoke.

“Mayor Hoblkalf!” Niels shouted, forming a blow-horn with his hands.

On the desk in front of Hoblkalf, laid a sheet of paper with titles such as The Hoblkalf Games, The Hoblkalf Stone Cutting Project and The Hoblkalf Twenty-Four Hour Work Day Project. All had been crossed out in red ink.

“Mr. Mayor,” Cyrus said, gently shaking Hoblkalf’s shoulder.

Reluctantly, the three-and-a-half-foot man awoke from his slumber. He straightened his tie and smoothed back his bald head, mumbling something about the good old days.

“Mayor, we need your help,” Niels repeated, “My Mom’s fallen into a pit, and we can’t rescue her by ourselves.”

At first, Hoblkalf did not seem to hear a single word. He looked more preoccupied with trying to ignite his cigar. But as Niels explained that the very earth had opened up and swallowed his mother whole, the mayor’s eyes began to twinkle, and he started to pace the room with a bounce in his limp.

“She’s still alive,” Niels said, “We heard her screaming, and we promised we’d get help. If we don’t get her out of there as soon as possible, she’s going to drown or freeze to death. We need to do something NOW!”

“We’re going to need the whole village in on this rescue operation,” the mayor said, “I’ll fill out the paperwork and order an emergency town meeting. You two ring the town bell.”

***

A HALF HOUR LATER, the entire village waited outside the town hall.

“What’s taking the Mayor so long?” Niels growled through clenched teeth.

He paced beside Cyrus, squeezing his hands into fists.

“What do you think we’re doing here?” Cyrus heard another person say.

“I reckon the old coot’s ready to admit he’s too old to be mayor,” answered another, “I bet his son Lars is finally taking over.”

“That senile bag of skin hasn’t done anything for us since that Hoblkalf Waterworks Project some forty years ago.”

As the town folk prattled on, Cyrus could hear coughing and yelling from inside the mayor’s office. His secretary burst through the front doors, crying and leaving a trail of papers in her wake, as she ran off down the main street. This caused further buzz among the suspense-filled mob.

With a great cloud of cigar smoke, the mayor emerged from his balcony door. The villagers grew silent. Hoblkalf leaned on his cane and hobbled across the banner-draped terrace, towards a large platform. The sun glinted off his head as if it was silverware. He limped up the steps, took a giant puff from his grumpweed cigar and shuffled some papers around on the stand in front of him. Then he adjusted his monocle and scrunched his beady eyes, inspecting the speech before him. Hoblkalf opened his codfish-like mouth and broke into a fit of coughing and hacking. When the attack subsided, he cleared his throat and began again.

“My fellow citizens, I am sorry to interrupt your busy day, but I bring urgent and distressing news. We the hard-working people of Virkelot Island are under ATTACK!”

Hoblkalf smashed his fist down on the podium. The crowd jumped and began to chatter like chickens.

“Eh-hem, it seems the Sea Zombie has executed a surprise attack, spearheaded at the LongBones farm. We are not sure the extent of her plans at present, but we do know her first goal was to capture one of our own and hold her ransom,” Hoblkalf paused, staring soberly into the audience, “No word of her demands as yet, but we predict a request to tear down the Dead Fence and the surrender of our everlasting souls. Never, I say, NEVER! We do not make deals with demons or assassins.”

“Hear, hear,” shouted a toothless, old man in the crowd.

What is the Mayor talking about? Cyrus thought. He turned to his brother. Niels looked bewildered.

“It is not clear at this time why the LongBones farm was targeted, but what we do know is this. We must fight them hard, and we must fight them fast. They may come from land, sea or sky. We must join forces and battle the Sea Zombie’s army tooth and nail, down to every last man, woman, and child. Any questions?”

“Mr. Mayor -” Niels shouted.

“Good, let’s get to work,” interrupted Hoblkalf.

The crowd hollered a war-like cheer of support and praise.

“It’s been forty years since I’ve seen Hoblkalf so spry,” said the preacher.

“What’s going on?” Cyrus asked Niels, “Who said anything about the Sea Zombie?”

He had never seen his brother look so worried and confused.

“I don’t know, Cyrus, but we’d better replace out.”