Undead Series (Book 1): Blight of the Dead

by Breckenridge, Erin E.

  Raven acted before she had time to think. Climbing atop the counter and swinging her axe wide, she hit the man in the side of the face. Blood sprayed in a wide arch, spattering her coat with wet plops. The man did not go down. Henry struggled in his grasp, prying at the man’s arm with his fingers. He’d kept hold of the knife but had nowhere to aim it. The blade sat useless in his grasp. His eyes were wide.

  Raven lifted the axe above her head and with a strong downward swing, brought it down again on the man’s head. This strike hit gold, splitting his skull and cleaving his brain in two. He slumped forward, grip loosening and Henry turned in his grasp. Pushing the man’s body backward, Henry moved away, gasping.

  Raven sat abruptly on the table, relearning how to breathe. She absently flicked the congealed blood and brain from her blade.

  “Thanks,” Henry panted, catching his breath. “I didn’t even see that dude!” He waved his arm emphatically at the body.

  We need to get better at clearing buildings, she thought. “He was a big fucker!” Raven grinned, hopping to her feet.

  Henry smiled back. There was a shuffling noise from upstairs and he groaned.

  Raven glanced past her brother. There was a set of wooden stairs that led to the upper level. In front of a closed door sat a heavy looking metal drum, like a vat for holding a large quantity of liquid.

  “No worries,” Raven said, pointing to the stairs. “It’s blocked.”

  “Oh, good,” Henry said, seeing it.

  A loud thud sounded from the other side of the door and the drum scooted an inch along the ground.

  “Oh, fuck,” Henry spoke. “Let’s load up what we can and get the hell out of here. One of those things is enough for today.” He gestured at the corpse.

  Raven could only agree. They grabbed plastic bags from the register area and headed down the aisles to pilfer.

  Back at the Cabin

  They pulled up to the cabin and Raven let out a sigh of relief. She could hear Rocky barking inside and there were no footprints or tire tracks that didn’t belong.

  “Seems like our hideout is still safe,” Henry spoke. He pulled around to the back of the cabin, parking behind a cluster of evergreens.

  “Thankfully,” Raven agreed. She looked out at the surrounding forest to make sure they were alone then opened the door.

  Henry did the same, pulling bags of supplies from the truck bed.

  “We got quite a haul,” he said. His hands were laden and there were myriad bags left, full to bursting with food and amenities.

  “Sure did,” Raven agreed. She let the tailgate down and pulled the veggie crates to the edge. “We’ll be set for quite a while. Though we should eat as many of the perishables as we can before we set out.”

  Henry nodded. “The first meeting on December first is in ten days so we have plenty of time.” He shouldered open the door and Rocky burst out. Henry dodged him expertly. “I think we should get there at least a day in advance to scout it out.”

  “Get down, Rocky,” Raven chided, kneeing her dog lightly in the chest to back him up. He’d jumped up and was clinging to the crates she carried. “Get out of the way, doofus,” she said, laughing. Rocky barked and ran back inside, racing through the cabin insanely.

  “Watch out!” Henry yelled, having nearly been knocked down by ninety pounds of crazy Pit Bull.

  Rocky raced past him and up the stairs. The floor pounded beneath his exuberance.

  She set the crates down on the kitchen table with a groan, rubbing her lower back. “Those are heavy fuckers,” she said.

  “I’ll get the others,” Henry spoke without turning around. He was starting a fresh pot of coffee.

  “What are we going to do when the power finally cuts out?” Raven asked him. “I don’t think either of us can survive long without coffee.”

  Henry glared at her mockingly, grabbing his chest. “Don’t even joke about that, sis.” He smiled.

  Raven scoffed. “All right, joker,” she said laughing. “Let’s get the rest of the shit from the truck. I’ll start dinner once we’ve unloaded.”

  “Good,” Henry said. “I’m starved.”

  “Just stick the perishables in the fridge. We can sort through it all after we eat.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Henry agreed.

  Rocky came bounding down the stairs, tongue lolling, and out of the front door. A long line of drool hung from his smiling mouth. He danced across the dirt, running in silly circles. Henry and Raven unloaded everything from the truck, but they were not alone.

  There was a rustling in the mulberry bush just east of the clearing. It wasn’t a windy day yet the leaves shook and jittered, knocking rotting berries to the ground.

  Chapter Five

  The Eavesdropper

  The Eavesdropper

  The evening was getting colder and Elizabeth — she preferred Liz — shivered, zipping up her ratty sweatshirt. Not that it would do her much good, there were holes in it and the material was thin.

  Liz hunkered beneath a large fir tree and dug herself a trench in the needles that covered the ground. The dirt was damp and it didn’t provide her much warmth, but she didn’t know what else to do. She’d thought about approaching the strangers but changed her mind. Liz was afraid. She’d always been timid but when the disease hit and her father had been taken, Liz lived every day in complete terror.

  A low moan sounded from somewhere in the trees and she tensed, hunkering down and cowering amongst the decaying pine needles. Her brown hair swung across her face in a nest of matted curls. Liz screwed her eyes tightly shut and waited, breathing hard. She heard the moan again but it sounded further away. It was accompanied by a high-pitched scream far off in the distance and a crashing of underbrush. Liz couldn’t tell how far away the noises were, sound traveled oddly here in the mountains, especially when it rained.

  A loud peal of thunder crashed overhead and Liz covered her mouth to stifle a shriek. She felt a sudden and profound longing for her room and her daddy. Mom had left them years before, riding away in a big white ambulance. Dad said that she was going away to rest and they would see her in a couple of weeks, but things hadn’t worked out that way. Liz’s mom had never come home and she and Daddy hadn’t ever talked about it. Life had gone on, but Liz never felt the same without her, even if there had been times when Mommy couldn’t get out of bed and couldn’t speak. Liz had felt better with her there all the same.

  The thunder boomed again and Liz screamed, unable to stop the outburst. Lightning hit the tree behind her, brightening the sky like noontime. The tree was enveloped in a large conflagration, flames shooting into the sky. A branch fell with a resounding crash and Liz felt heat on her back. She ran, pelting into the clearing with the cabin and, heedless of the consequences, began banging on the door with her fist.

  “Help me!” she screamed, hitting the door. Her fist was small and very pale as it smacked the boards. The door was sturdy and Liz was petite for thirteen but in her terror she was strong. She pounded on the wood until she heard footsteps on the other side. A dog barked and scratched the inside of the door, but that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but getting inside and finding someone to keep her safe. Her father’s face flashed through her mind. Strong boned and heavily bearded, her father had been a fierce man and protected his daughter in all things. Except in the end. He had been knocked down by a police officer. The man in blue had been crazed and bloody and Liz had bolted. She looked back only once and saw the man latched on to her father’s muscular arm, shaking it like a dog. Her father had screamed for her to run and she did, not turning around again.

  The door opened to frame a man and a woman. The woman was covered in tattoos and held back a large dog.

  “What the …?” the man asked, staring at Liz like she’d just grown a second head.

  “Take Rocky,” the woman said. Handing the still barking dog off, she hunkered down in front of Liz. “Where did you come from?” she asked, concern evident in her face
. She looked up and her eyes widened at the sight of the fire.

  Liz glanced at the conflagration and saw that it was already going out, subdued beneath the omnipresent rain.

  The culminating events of the past weeks caught up with Liz and she swayed on her feet. Opening her mouth to speak, Liz’s eyes rolled back into her head and her knees buckled. The world swam in streamers of darkness and light. She felt herself fall to the ground and vaguely heard voices that she couldn’t make out. Then there was nothing.

  Raven

  “Lay her down here,” Raven said, gesturing to the couch. She’d laid an old blanket down and Henry placed the kid on top of it.

  She took off the girl’s sweatshirt and examined her for bite marks. Finding none, Raven let out a sigh of relief.

  “How did she get all the way up here, I wonder.” Henry asked. He wrapped his hands around the girl’s bare feet. “She’s freezing,” he said, rubbing the cold flesh.

  “Put another log on the fire,” Raven directed, feeling for the girl’s pulse. It thumped strong and steady beneath her touch. She heard the crackle of the fire as Henry plopped a log on. “Grab the medical supplies,” she instructed her brother.

  Henry hustled from the room. Raven heard him rummaging in the kitchen, doing what she asked. She looked down at the girl. The muscles in her face were relaxed with unconsciousness, lips parted and breath coming regularly. Raven had been reassured by the girl’s steady pulse but was worried that she may have hypothermia. She felt her forehead and it was cold. Raven tutted and took off the girl’s wet clothes, leaving her undergarments on as they were fairly clean and wrapped her in the orange afghan.

  “Bring another blanket,” she hollered to her brother.

  The girl did not stir but a small moan escaped her lips.

  “How old are you?” Raven wondered aloud, tucking the girl’s curls behind her ear. “Twelve would be my guess.” She shuddered to think how a girl so young had survived all this time.

  “Here,” Henry said, walking back into the room holding Raven’s medical bag and a goose down quilt. “I found this in the closet. There’re more too.”

  Raven took the quilt from him and covered the girl with it, tucking the edges in around her slim body.

  “Poor thing,” Henry said, setting the bag down. “How did she get all the way out here?”

  “I was wondering the same thing,” Raven sighed. She opened her bag and pulled out a hot compress. It was a plastic bag filled with gel that warmed instantly when you broke the vial of salt water inside. Raven did that and handed it to Henry. “Put this at her feet,” she instructed, pulling out another. Raven broke the vial and felt the bag warm in her hands. She placed it on the girl’s chest and covered her with the quilt again. “This should help.” She stood and regarded the child for a moment. “I’ll get some soup ready. You stay with her in case she wakes.”

  “Sure,” Henry acquiesced. “I put Rocky in your room.”

  “That’s fine,” Raven answered and headed into the kitchen. Rocky was a friendly dog but tended to jump on people and this girl was so small he’d surely knock her over.

  Later that Evening

  The girl sat on the couch, wrapped in blankets. She had finally stopped shivering and held a cup of warm cocoa in both hands. Slowly, she brought it to her lips and took a sip. The hot chocolate left a brown mustache and she wiped it on the back of her arm. Her eyes were large and dark and her skin was a pale bronze, like she would tan well in the summer. Her hair was a mass of curls and Raven had given her brush to work out the knots.

  “My name is Liz,” she said in a small voice, sipping her cocoa again.

  “Hi, Liz,” Raven said, keeping her voice calm. This was the first coherent sentence they’d gotten from her. She’d woken about an hour ago and huddled beneath the blanket until Henry coaxed her out with chocolate. “I’m Raven and this is my brother, Henry.” Raven gestured to her brother, sitting on the table with Rocky between his knees.

  “What’s the dog’s name?” Liz asked shyly. She blinked rapidly and her knuckles were white, she was gripping her mug so tightly.

  “This is Rocky,” Henry answered, matching Raven’s tone. “He’s a good dog. He won’t hurt you.”

  Liz nodded twice in quick succession. “I had a dog.” She closed her eyes briefly and a single tear leaked out. When she opened them again her eyes shimmered with moisture. “Daddy got him at the shelter. He was a collie.”

  Raven thought her heart would break, this girl was so sad and earnest. “What was his name, Liz?” she asked.

  “P-pecko,” she responded with a hitch in her voice. “Daddy let me n-name him.” Her eyes grew wider, like large saucers. “A woman ate him.” The tears flowed from her eyes then, running in clear droplets down her face.

  Raven scooted closer on the couch, wrapping her arm around the girl. “I’m so sorry.” Then after a pause she added. “Someone ate my cat too.”

  The girl sniffled, making a visible effort to stop her tears. “W-what was his name?”

  “Her name was Moon Pie,” Raven answered, gripped by a wave of grief. She pushed it aside, holding eye contact with the girl and smiling gently.

  “Do you think you can eat some soup?” Henry asked.

  Rocky sneezed and the girl smiled. He took a step toward her and Henry let him. The dog laid his head on the edge of the couch and Liz reached a tentative hand out to stroke him.

  Liz seemed to consider his request for food then nodded. “I … I … think so,” she answered.

  Raven rose from the couch. “I’ll reheat it,” she said, heading into the kitchen.

  She heard Henry switch on the television — it only had two working channels now, cartoons and the history channel — and he spoke to Liz in a low voice. The girl answered and the dulcet drone of the history channel floated into the kitchen.

  “Strange girl,” Raven whispered. She wondered again how she’d survived so long alone but didn’t want to ask just yet. Liz would tell them when she was ready.

  Raven turned on the stove — the gas still worked, as did the electricity. The water too, though she knew it wouldn’t last. She poured chicken noodle soup into the pot and waited for it to boil.

  Liz devoured the soup quickly and they sat there with her for a while, watching some program about the beginnings of life. Raven glanced at the girl during a commercial and saw that she was sound asleep, head on her chest with a thin line of drool slipping from her partially open mouth. The empty bowl sat on her lap.

  Raven caught her brother’s eyes and gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen. He grabbed the bowl. Once in the kitchen, she set the coffee to percolate and sat at the table. Henry mirrored her with a heavy sigh.

  “This changes our plans,” he spoke, voice quiet.

  “I know,” Raven responded. “What should we do?”

  Henry sighed and pursed his lips, thinking. “Well, we clearly can’t go spy on president muckety muck with a little girl in tow. It wouldn’t be safe for her.”

  “No,” Raven answered. “It wouldn’t.”

  They sat quietly for a while, letting the sound of the coffee percolator fill the kitchen with pleasantly familiar noises and smells. The girl’s breathing could be heard faintly from the other room accompanied by the slightly louder sound of Rocky’s snoring.

  “Well,” Raven spoke. “We have enough supplies to last for the next month at least but that doesn’t help us in the long run. We still need to find other people.” The percolator had finished and Raven got up to fill their mugs.

  “Black please,” Henry spoke scratching his chin. Raven added powdered milk and sugar to hers, not understanding why anyone would want to drink black coffee and brought both mugs back to the table.

  Handing her brother his coffee, Raven sipped her milky ambrosia. “What about the girl’s family?” she asked.

  “I don’t think she has any left,” Henry answered. “She mentioned that her father was dead and her mother left them
years ago. She said something about her being taken away in a white van. I don’t know what that means.”

  “Okay,” Raven said. “Let’s stay here for a little while longer and see how she is. Then we can decide what to do.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Henry agreed.

  They drank their coffee in silence, thinking their own thoughts.

  The Next Morning

  Raven woke early, light streamed in the windows of her orange room, making everything look too bright. She hadn’t gotten much sleep. Henry had stayed downstairs with Liz, falling asleep after a while on the floor. Raven had covered him with a spare blanket and taken herself to bed. It must’ve been around three when sleep finally claimed her, mind whirring from the combination of coffee and her own spinning thoughts.

  She threw back her tangerine colored comforter and slipped on her leggings and jeans, thermal and sweatshirt. It was cold up here and that meant that they had neglected to tend the fire downstairs. Raven slipped on warm socks and boots. She trudged down the stairs yawning widely.

  “Hey, sis,” Henry said. He was just stacking wood in the fireplace. Henry was still in his jammies, thermal top and thickly lined sweatpants. His hair was sticking up amusingly in all directions.

  I wonder if he’ll want me to trim it, she thought, hoping he didn’t. Raven was terrible at cutting hair.

  “Morning,” she said brightly, looking at the couch for Liz. She wasn’t there and Raven felt a moment of panic. “Where is she?” Raven asked, voice fearful.

  “Don’t worry, sis,” Henry responded. “She’s in the kitchen with Rocky. I managed some oatmeal for breakfast and fed the dog.” He sounded rather proud of himself, puffing out his chest and grinning.