The Nothing House

by Cherie Mitchell

  Gypsy Latham is said to have supported her employee, protesting her innocence, until suddenly backtracking and becoming her biggest opponent and detractor two days after her arrest. The reason for Ms. Latham’s change of mind and complete about-face is not recorded, although broad hints were made that Jonathon Wheeler’s wife may have had a hand in her decision reversal.

  Bedeliah Farnsworth was subsequently sent to trial for the murder of an unknown number of orphaned children. After careful consideration of the facts to hand, the judge sentenced her to death by the executioner’s noose and she met her maker on June 7, 1887.

  Tyrellton was eventually renamed Gypsy Creek in honor of Gypsy Latham, the town’s tireless benefactor, and today it is known for its pleasant, leafy scenery and the autumn colors of the town’s numerous oak trees.

  ** The above article was articulated with the aid of a series of papers originally written in German and translated. While several of these facts remain unsubstantiated, we’ll leave it up to our readers to make their own decision on whether this grim tale is fact or fiction. If anyone has material or information they can add to the story, including birth or death records or family history or folklore, please contact the editors at the below email address.

  And that’s it. The awful truth, despite the disclaimer at the end of the article. “Liam, you should’ve shown me this before we signed those papers, before we moved into the house.” My voice sounds as heavy and tired as I feel.

  “It does say they don’t know if it’s true,” he points out hopefully. “It might be one of those joke sites.”

  Is he serious? “How can you say that when we have the undead proof that it’s true lurching through our garden?! Look outside right now and tell me if it’s all a joke!” Yeah, I sound like a screechy witch but I don’t care.

  Something hits the curtained window behind us with a bang and we all jump in fright. Liam lunges for the laptop to prevent it falling to the floor and I’m already out of my seat.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “What the hell? Are they trying to get in?” Liam leaves the laptop on the sofa and strides over to the window, wearing the attitude of a man in charge of defending his women. I let it slide. He hasn’t had much experience with zombies and he still has a lot to learn, especially in regards to how they don’t care if you’re a man or a woman or a kid. Zombies don’t judge.

  Liam wrenches the curtain back and we all scream. Seriously, I was never expecting this, not in a million years. Reece is outside the window playing with the zombie kids.

  “Reece!” I fly at the window as fast as the bullet that bozo cop aimed at Liam. “What are you doing?” I shove Liam out of the way and I’m fumbling at the window latch with fingers that feel suddenly boneless and useless. Floppy ghost fingers that don’t belong to me.

  Organza does a nervous giggle from beside me. “They’re playing catch.”

  Shit-a-roonie, the window won’t open. It’s rusted or gummed or something and it’s not budging for anyone.

  “Well, he’s a goner,” Liam says lightly. “Guess we can’t let him back in the house now that he’s been in contact with the zombies. What are you going to tell your Mom?”

  I press my face up to the window, yelling at Reece to come back inside, but he doesn’t even look at me. He’s doing that ‘my ears are painted on’ thing that he has down to a fine art as he tosses… something… at this little scruffy zombie kid. The kid must have some part of his brain left, some miniscule atom of reason, ‘cos he opens he’s mouth so wide that his jaw dislocates and I realize he’s trying to smile. Zombie kid opens his arms wide in an attempt to catch the object before it falls to the ground and rolls between his dead feet.

  It’s a skull. A motherfucking skull and my brother is tossing it around as if it’s a football. Has he no respect? I think that makes me madder than anything. Reece and Organza were both taught manners, they know how to behave. I storm past Liam and march over to the front door, determined to go out there and sort him out. The house does have a back door but someone boarded it shut at some time and for now, this is the only way in and out, unless I take the window option obviously favored by Reece.

  “Ellie, where are you going? Don’t you dare go out there!” Liam leaps in front of me and tries to barricade me into the house with his arms and legs held astride to cover the doorway.

  “Get out of my way,” I say through gritted teeth, “Or you’ll live to regret it.”

  “This is so cute,” Organza sighs from her vantage point by the window. “They’re forming teams now. Can I go out and play, too?”

  “Stay there, Organza. Don’t you move.” I kick Liam in the shins, making him yelp and hop around, but at least he gets out of my way. “Don’t piss me off, Liam. It’s not worth it.”

  The cop is leaning back against his cruiser, looking as about as lively as pigeon shit, but he scrambles to attention when he sees me. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing? You can’t come out here!”

  “Fuck off. I’m not leaving the property. You can’t do anything if I don’t leave the property.” I walk down the steps as if I own the place, which I do, and set off toward the oak tree. “Don’t even think about aiming that gun at me.”

  There must be enough warning in my voice to put an end to his complaining, because he shuts up right away. Or else he’s just seen what’s hanging out around the oak tree.

  I think I said before that we’d noticed the zombie kids were making sure not to cross some kind of invisible boundary at the oak tree. However, that hasn’t stopped a couple of them, two little girls I think, making themselves at home on the lumpy, twisted roots. If I squint my eyes into little narrow slits I can almost pretend that they’re two ordinary ten-year-old girls playing tea parties under the tree but otherwise they look like what they are – two long-dead undeads gawping foolishly around and leaving bits of zombie skin behind where they’ve dragged their arms and legs across the rough bark of the roots.

  Anyway, I don’t have any time for this now. I’ve come out here to get my little brother and bring him back inside before everything gets even more insane than it already is.

  I walk around the side of the house, easily avoiding the grabbing hands of little Annabel-Mary and Mary-Annabel, and I stand at the edge of the garden with my hands on my hips. Organza was right – the tribe of zombie kids have formed two weird teams and they’re lurching after that rolling skull why Reece shouts directions and runs up and down the sidelines.

  “Reece Friedlander, get your butt back inside the house this instant!”

  He stops what he’s doing and glares at me. “Obidiah said it’ll be okay. He said they won’t hurt me.”

  “Don’t make me come over there and get you.” I swerve out of the way as some three-year-old undead tries to latch onto my calf, gnashing his rotten baby teeth as he swoops in. “Move your ass before I move it for you.”

  He hesitates and I think he’s going to disobey me but he finally shrugs and stomps over the lawn to where I’m waiting. “You had to go and ruin it. It was the most fun I’ve had since I arrived in this shitty town.”

  I give him a cuff around the ear for his backchat and shove him between the shoulder blades to hurry him along. “Get back inside and don’t you ever left me see you using human remains like that again. How’d you like someone to do that with your bones once you’re gone?”

  “I wouldn’t care,” he mutters as we walk past the waving, clawing arms of Annabel-Mary and Mary-Annabel.

  Anyway, the cop is still frozen to the spot and staring at the two zombie kids by the oak tree as we pass him and he doesn’t bother to try to talk to us. I shove Reece up the steps and Liam hurriedly moves out of the way, away from where he’s standing in the doorway. “You can’t bring him inside, Ellie! He’ll infect us.”

  I follow Reece inside and kick the door shut behind me with my foot. “You’re a moron, Liam. Don’t you ever say anything like that again. Don’t ever make me choose between you and
kids because I don’t think you’ll like the choice that I make.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Liam and I still aren’t talking to each other by the time Mr. Devall knocks on the door. It appears the trigger-happy cop has knocked off his shift and luckily, the officer who has replaced him doesn’t seem to be quite so jittery.

  Liam opens the door and pastes on a big, fake smile. Welcome to the house of fun. “Hey, Mr. Devall! Sure is nice of you to bring that cabinet over.”

  “No problem. I felt kind of bad that I couldn’t supply everything you needed in the first place.” Mr. Devall hoists the cabinet up onto the top step and Liam drags it inside. I stand back so Mr. Devall can walk in. “How’s everything been? I saw your armed guard out the front. Must be frightening for you kids.”

  “Nah, we’re good. We just pretend they aren’t there.” I watch as Liam maneuvers the TV cabinet across the floor and then lifts the TV on top of it. It looks great. Fancy. I feel a burst of pride for the way my house is shaping up.

  “Would you like to sit down?” Organza asks politely. I give her an approving nod behind Mr. Devall’s back. Both kids have just had a lecture about manners and I’m pleased to see that she took some notice.

  Mr. Devall smiles his thanks, giving Organza an odd look as he passes on his way to the armchair. I glance at her face to see what he’s looking at and I’m a little surprised to see how much spottier she’s become over the past hour or so. Those measles are having a field day on Organza’s normally blemish-free skin.

  “Are you settling in okay? I’m sorry people haven’t been as welcoming as they should have been, especially as these are your first few days in Gypsy Creek. Most people in this town are good people. They’re just a bit jumpy and protective of their own and many of them have bad memories of a prior measles epidemic. Happened back in 1998…”

  There’s a crash and a thump as Nostradamus flies out of Reece’s bedroom and lands in the middle of the living room floor, where the horse rocks back and forward a couple of times before coming to a standstill. Mr. Devall jumps to his feet but the rest of us don’t react. We’re kind of getting used to it now.

  “What the devil?” He’s backing away from Nostradamus as if he’s afraid the horse is going to suddenly climb up onto its hooves and nip at him.

  “Devil, Devall,” Organza giggles and I throw her a glare to remind her about our recent little talk about manners.

  “Don’t mind the rocking horse,” Liam says tiredly. “We’re dealing with a lot more pressing problems than that.”

  “Uh.” Mr. Devall is still staring at Nostradamus as Organza picks up the plate of uneaten cupcakes and waltzes over to stand beside him. “Would you like a cupcake?” she asks sweetly. “I made them myself.”

  Mr. Devall looks horrified but I can’t tell if it’s because of Organza’s spotty face or because none of us seem concerned about the flying rocking horse. “No thank you, dear.”

  Reece is whistling under his breath as he walks over and grabs hold of Nostradamus’s bridle. He doesn’t say a word as he drags the horse across the floor and into his bedroom. I’m wondering how he can suddenly move that heavy horse on his own but then I decide to leave it be. Choose your battles, Ellie.

  Mr. Devall takes a deep breath and sinks shakily back down into the armchair. “Well,” he says. “Well, well.”

  “Well, well, well, three holes in the ground,” Organza whispers and I try to give her a poke in the ribs but I can’t quite reach her.

  I think that it’s probably a good idea to gather some information about our new town while Mr. Devall is here. “You said you’ve always lived in this town, Mr. Devall. I guess you know plenty of stories.”

  “Yes, I know plenty of stories.” He gives me a wobbly smile and I can see he’s doing his best to pull himself together and be neighborly.

  I remember his reaction when we first told him that we’d bought this house. It might be time to do a little probing. “Do any of those stories have anything to do with this property?”

  Something hits the side of the house, maybe that baby skull thrown by one of the zombie kids, and Mr. Devall jumps again. I don’t blame him. We’re still getting used to that kind of stuff ourselves.

  “Uh.” He looks nervously around and I hope he’s not about to say he’s suddenly remembered he has another appointment. I like him and I want him to stay and visit for a while.

  “We found an article about the land the house is built on,” Liam prompts. “Do you know anything about that? Apparently, this used to be farm land owned by a Mr. Jonathon Wheeler.”

  “Yes, I know about that. Most of this town was once agricultural land. Great soil for growing vegetables.”

  And zombies. I smile encouragingly. I’m glad to see he’s looking a mite less anxious and it doesn’t seem as if he’s about to run for the door at any minute. “Liam is looking forward to putting in a vegetable garden.”

  A whole flurry of things hit the side of the house, one after the other. Crash, tumble, bang.

  “Yeah, we might try growing our own lettuces, tomatoes, and zucchini. Maybe even a plot of potatoes.”

  I’m trying to keep the conversation going but Mr. Devall is gazing with big, scared eyes at the curtained window and he’s gripping the arms of his chair with his gnarled hands. He looks like an out-of-season shopping mall Santa Claus wearing some of those stick-on googly eyes you can get in any dollar store while he waits for the children to come climb on his knee. “What on earth is going out there?”

  I exchange a glance with Liam. It’s probably time we got over our little spat anyway and showed a couple-ly, united front to the world. “Shall we tell him?”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Mr. Devall refuses to believe us until we take him over to the window and let him see for himself.

  “Holy Mary, Mother of God.” His jaw is hanging down so low it’s almost brushing the top of his embroidered logo on his shirt. “I can’t believe I’m seeing this.”

  “Reece was out there playing with them before but I made him come inside.” I watch as one of the zombie kids laboriously stoops to pick up a leg bone before throwing it at the side of the house. His aim is about as good as the aim of that cop who shot at Liam and the bone misses the house and hits one of the zombie crew on the head instead. Clonk. “Maybe I should’ve let him stay out there a while longer. He’s always had a good pitcher’s arm and he might’ve been able to show them a thing or two.”

  “How can you make a joke of this?” Mr. Devall wrenches the curtain across to block out the sight of the zombies in the yard. “This is preposterous.”

  I have to admit that I feel a little hurt. I thought Mr. Devall and I were friends. “I wasn’t joking. Reece might be small for his age but he was always good at baseball. He gets it from our grandfather, Morris Stumper.”

  Liam puts his hands on my shoulders. “Ellie,” he says gently, “Mr. Devall was talking about the zombies. You have to remember this is a big shock to him. He doesn’t know anything about what’s gone on in your life.” He turns to Mr. Devall. “We sure would appreciate it if you can tell us anything about the events that went on here in the late 1800s.”

  Mr. Devall looks defeated as he staggers back to his chair. “I always hoped those stories weren’t true.”

  Liam is animated now and I’m pleased to see he’s back to his normal self again. He picks up the laptop and walks over to perch on the arm of Mr. Devall’s chair. “We found this article. We put two and two together and decided the cornfield where she buried the bodies was the same field they built this house on.”

  Mr. Devall is silent for several minutes as he reads the article and considers it. Finally, he looks up and scratches his head. “Just as I thought, but what I don’t understand is how those poor children lay at peace for all those years but have chosen to return. Why have they risen now, and how have they become zombies after all this time? Things like this don’t just happen.”

  Oh yes they
do. “Maybe someone or something called them to rise.” I won’t mention Obidiah just yet.

  He’s shaking his head, looking concerned and bewildered. “But why has this happened now, here in this peaceful little town?”

  “Probably because the bad luck followed us from Cemetery Hill in Warren’s End.”

  He stares at me, open-mouthed and incredulous. “You’re that family?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. I used to be Angel Friedlander and my brother and sister were Timmy and Megan. We changed our names so we could have a new start without people bothering us.”

  “My goodness. I just can’t begin to contemplate the horrors you’ve lived through.” He’s acting so sympathetic and lovely that I just want to get up and kiss him on his plump, red cheek.

  “You know about all that Cemetery Hill stuff?” Liam shuts the laptop, comfortably settling in for a conversation about things that most people never need to discuss.

  “Of course. I’ve followed the case with a great deal of interest.” Mr. Devall scans my face. “You’re remarkably well-adjusted for a young lady who’s been through so much.”

  “Thank you.” I told you he was a nice man. I knew it from the first moment I met him.

  Mr. Devall pulls a snowy white handkerchief that matches the color of his hair and beard out of his pocket and blows his nose noisily. “This is all very unsettling. I never expected anything of this magnitude in Gypsy Creek.”

  “You didn’t seem too surprised when Liam showed you that article. What do you know about Bedeliah Farnsworth?” I’m curious to know more and I have a feeling that Mr. Devall is exactly the right person to ask.

  He folds his handkerchief and tucks it away as if its contents are something precious to keep. The bags under his eyes are more pronounced now and his plump cheeks have lost some of their ruddiness. Santa is fading away before my eyes and that makes me sad.