Fight to the Finish (BTVS, Book Seven)

chapter 7 - Conversations With Dead People

I was patrolling alone in the cemetery, while Buffy was patrolling elsewhere, and Mom and Dawn were at home. I knelt next to a fresh grave, watching as a hand popped up out of the soil. "Here we go."

••••••• 

I punched the vampire in the face twice. The vampire blocked the next punch, punching me twice, grabbing me to throw me through the air, making me hit the tree and fall. I rolled into a standing position. The vampire tried to kick me in the head. I ducked, making him spin around. The vampire tried to punch me. I blocked the move, punching him twice in the face, kicking him in the chest, then the face.

••••••• 

The vampire, though newborn, was awfully strong and could fight well like every other newborn vampire, headbutting me, trying to flip me to the ground. I landed on my feet, punching him in the face. The vampire threw me away to try to get me to fall, but I cartwheeled through the air and landed soundly, spinning to kick him in the face, backhand punching him in the chest.

The vampire pushed me against a headstone, stopping the fight when he seemed to recognize me. "Zoey? Zoey Francis?"

"Have we met?" I asked.

The vampire laughed. "Oh, uh, Webs. Holden Webster. We went to school together. European History. I let you crib off my Vaclav Havel essay that time. You--you really don't remember me?"

I remembered, chuckling in surprise. "Sure. Sure."

••••••• 

Holden was talking casually now. "Okay, I remember junior year, spring production of Pippin', uh, I did the lighting design, and you helped me move the lighting board, and I dropped it on your foot."

I chuckled. "Right, foot. Yes, of course. It's all coming back. Sorry."

"Well, you know, it's not like I was a big part of your life or anything," Holden told me.

"No, I just--I didn't recognize you, you know, your face, all demon, and I think you've filled out a lot," I told him.

Holden looked himself over. "Oh, yeah, well, I got into to Tae Twon Do in a big way at Dartmouth, so..."

I nodded sarcastically. "That's great."

Holden chuckled. "Yeah."

"So what have you been up to?" I asked.

"Well, apparently dying," Holden answered. We chuckled. "Uh, no, but other stuff." We started walking. "Uh, you know, majoring in Psych. Really liking that. Uh, took a year off to do an internship at the Sunnydale Mental Hospital."

"Wow," I told him. "That's gotta be a popular joint."

Holden nodded in agreement. "I--I keep telling them we ought to get a velvet rope and a bouncer." We stopped walking. "Hey, you remember Jason Wheeler, you know, 'Crazy J'?"

I leaned on a nearby headstone. "Oh, yeah."

"He always had that shtick of..." Holden trailed off, waving his hands around. "'Yeah, I'm crazy, I'm crazy'."

"How is he?" I asked.

"Crazy," Holden answered. "He's been in the chronic ward since graduation." He laughed, but stopped. "Not really that funny, I guess."