by Nord, K. C.
"I don't think so," I said and slipped the family photo from my backpack. "This is all just so strange. Do you think that she could be the same girl?"
He shook his head, "it's been at least 18 years since that photo was taken. I don't see how it could be the same person; she would have to be in her mid-thirties by now."
"Ok, then how do you explain what just happened to me? Because I didn't imagine the whole thing, and I certainly didn't imagine that someone hit me in the back of the head," I snapped.
"Listen, I don’t deny the fact that someone attacked you, and just as soon as your concussion wears off, we'll try and get to the bottom of things. But in the meantime, why don't you get some rest? I'm sure that by morning you'll be feeling a lot better," he said, looking a little frustrated with me.
Feeling contrite and just a little ashamed of myself for my outburst, I laid back down on my sleeping bag, "I'm sorry for taking things out on you, Nick. None of this was your fault."
Nick gave me a reassuring smile, "it's fine; I know that most of that was just the concussion talking."
I was just starting to drift off to sleep when a disturbing thought occurred to me, and my eyes flew open. " Nick, do you think that we're safe here? What if whoever attacked me comes back?"
"We'll be fine," he said and gestured at Moose, who was lying in the doorway. "Moose will let us know if anyone is out there. He's been very watchful and protective ever since we found you knocked out."
"Ok," I replied and closed my eyes, trying to get a little sleep, but no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts just kept spinning, and I couldn't stop thinking about that girl. I sighed and rolled over on my sleeping bag, I couldn't seem to get comfortable, and every time I closed my eyes, I would see the ruined face of that girl in the garden.
"Having trouble sleeping?" Nick asked, no doubt, disturbed by my tossing and turning.
"Yeah," I confessed. "I can't seem to get that girl out of my mind."
"Why don't we just talk until you're tired," he suggested.
"All right, why don't you tell me a little about yourself."
"What do you want to know?" he asked.
"Oh, just the usual, tell me about your family, where you grew up, that kind of thing," I suggested.
"Ok, I've lived in Louisiana for all of my life. My family lives in the next parish over, and I have an older brother (Miles) and a younger sister named Emma. My family has been a part of the militia for years, and my dad, who was second in command, just took over as General earlier this year."
"You seem a little young to be a Captain," I commented.
"I've been in the militia since I was 14, and I'm 21 now, so probably not as young as you thought," he answered.
"People have to grow up faster than they did when our parents were kids," I remarked drowsily.
"We do have a lot more responsibilities," he agreed. "But, I think that, for the most part, we're more than capable of handling it."
"We are. But my grandma seems to be having a particularly hard time letting me go. I think that she feels guilty about what happened to my mom, so she's trying doubly hard to protect Lucas and me."
"You're probably right about that, but still, everything turned out alright in the end. In fact, your mom turned out to be one of the greatest zombie fighters to have ever lived."
"You've heard about my mom?" I said with surprise.
"I've even met her before," Nick replied.
"What! When did you meet her?”
"It was a few years ago; my dad took me to a horse-training seminar that your dad was doing just outside of Atlanta. Your mom was there with him, and I remember thinking that she was the most beautiful woman that I've ever seen."
"She still is," I replied. "When I was little, I used to wish that I looked like her with her black hair and perfect skin. Instead, I ended up with ginger hair and freckles. And anytime I said anything about it, Grandma would always say, "pretty is as pretty does," I ended with a laugh.
Nick smiled, "that sounds like something a grandma would say. But, personally, I happen to like red hair and freckles."
"My hair is ginger, not red," I said with a yawn.
"Do you always have to have the last word?" Nick asked as I drifted to sleep without answering.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Seven to fourteen days! Who knew that recovery time for a concussion was so long?
I was sure that we would be able to go back to the house in the woods in a day or so. Still, after examining me, Celeste said that I had to take it easy for at least seven days, and then we would reevaluate my condition, and no amount of arguing would dissuade her.
Norah had even taken her side and told me about a boy she knew who'd ended up with permanent brain damage because he'd ignored Celeste and went back to work too soon after a concussion. So for the last five days, I'd spent most of my time either on the sofa or in bed. And it was really starting to get old. I'm not used to lying around all day, and I'm certainly not used to being laid up or sick. For the most part, I am disgustingly healthy. In fact, you could probably count on one hand the number of times that I've been ill in my life.
For the first few days, I couldn't even read a book because of the headache, and to tell the truth, I didn't feel like doing anything, which left me with nothing to do but just lay around with so many unanswered questions burning a hole in my brain. I wished that Grandma or my mom were here so that I could interrogate them and finally get some answers. But who knows how long it will be before I see either of them again.
But today was day five, and I was actually able to read a little. Unfortunately, the book that I chose wasn't all that interesting. After reading the same sentence twice and still unable to get into the story, I yawned and stretched out on the sofa, lying my book on the floor beside me. The house was quiet this afternoon; Norah had taken Moose for a walk, Celeste was with a patient, Iris wasn't around much since Celeste was doing better, and Nick was off doing whatever it was that Nick did. Which, for the first time all week, left me alone in the house, and it was kind of nice, I thought as my eyes drifted shut as a warm afternoon breeze drifted through the open window.
I rolled over on my side and drowsily opened my eyes, only to come face-to-face with the girl from the garden. She was sitting on the floor a couple of feet away and staring at me with a strange intensity. My eyes widened in alarm, and I shrunk back against the sofa, wondering if this was even happening or was it just a nightmare?
"Oh good, you're awake," she said with a friendly smile that, because of the damage to her face, came off as more grotesque than anything else.
"How did you get in here?"
She tilted her head to one side and looked consideringly at me, "through the window, of course. If you wanted to keep someone out, you shouldn't have left it open."
Lying there with her looming over me like that put me at a distinct disadvantage, and I sat up with my back to the back of the sofa, hoping to equalize things. "Who are you?"
"My name is Bella; with that, she reached out and gently touched my face with the back of her hand, "you're so pretty; you know we could almost be twins."
"Stop it," I pushed her hand away and glimpsed a hint of madness in her emerald green eyes that were so much like my own.
"You pretty girls are all the same," she snarled and pulled out a large hunting knife holding the razor-sharp blade against my face.
"What do you want?" I gasped.
"Well," She paused for a second. "At first, I just wanted to be friends, I've been watching you for a while, and I thought that you looked nice. I've been so lonely for so long in that house by myself, but now I'm not sure."
I frowned, "But, you're not alone, are you? Wasn't there someone else there in the garden with you that day?
"Oh her," Bella said with a dismissive tone. "She's not a friend; she's only my babysitter. And not a good one at that, considering how easy it is to get away from her.
"If you wanted to be friends, why did y
ou shoot at us in the first place?"
Bella rolled her eyes and pulled the blade back just a little, "again, that was the sitter, not me. She was trying to scare you off."
Trying to play along with her delusions, I nodded, attempting to look as if it was perfectly normal to be sitting here having a conversation while a girl with half a face was holding a knife to your throat.
"Why don't you put down the knife, and we can talk?" I asked, giving her an encouraging smile and hoping to keep her talking until Norah and Moose came back inside.
Bella's eyes narrowed in suspicion as she tightened her hold on the blade, "are you trying to distract me?"
Involuntarily I swallowed, feeling the cold steel of the knife blade against my throat, "I'm just trying to be your friend."
"I'm not stupid," she snapped. "You're just acting nice because you don't want me to kill you."
"What do you want, Bella?" She was starting to look and sound crazier by the minute, and I had a bad feeling about what she was going to say next.
" It's very simple, I want your face, so I'm going to cut it off and sew it on mine. Then I will be beautiful again, and nobody will be afraid of me. I am so tired of having to hide from everyone, and with your face, I won't have to anymore," she replied with a cruel smile.
"You're crazy," I whispered in shock and watched in disbelief as her mood shifted from violent to hurt, and her eyes filled with tears.
"Why is everyone so mean to me?" she sobbed and sat the knife down on her lap, "all I want is for the pain to end and to be beautiful again."
Despite my fear, I felt a sharp pang of pity for her, "let me help you, Bella; I'm sure that Celeste can do something about your pain."
She sat back and wiped her tears away, " I hurt all of the time, nothing helps, and nobody cares anymore; all that they do is try and keep me hidden away like I'm a monster."
What happened to you?”
“Side effects from the vaccine,” she muttered.
“Wow! So he used you as a guinea pig?” I gasped.
Bella nodded, “ The vaccine was supposed to prevent the virus, but unfortunately, it only works for some, and the side effects can be pretty bad.”
I reached out for her hand, “ I’m so sorry for your pain, but I’m sure that Celeste has something that can help you.”
For a moment, I thought that I might have gotten through to her as she hesitantly returned my smile before it faded away, and distrust filled her face.
"No, you're lying!" she shouted violently and grabbed a handful of my hair in her left hand. "The only way that you can help is to give me your face."
I punched her in the face with my right hand, and she fell back on the floor, stunned for a moment. But she recovered much quicker than I anticipated, and moving impossibly fast, she lunged for my face with the knife, But this time I was ready for her and quickly kicked it out of her hand. The knife flew through the air, landing on the opposite side of the room against the bookcase. Bella gave me an angry look as she glanced from me to the knife, and I could almost see the wheels turning as she calculated her odds of reaching the blade before me.
Suddenly without a word, she sprinted across the room for the knife, and I didn't even try for it. For one thing, she was crazy fast, and for another, after the concussion, there was no way that I was up to physically fighting her for the knife. Instead, I grabbed the lamp from the table beside the sofa, and taking the stance of a baseball player that was up to bat, I swung the lamp with all of my strength, knocking her over the back of the sofa where she hit the floor with a loud shriek.
I braced myself for what might happen next but was still unprepared for her reaction as she regained her feet. Almost all vestige of a normal girl was gone, and all that remained was a snarling, vicious beast. But there was still one big difference between her and the mindless zombies, and that was her intelligence. Because for all of her crazy animal-like behavior, she was still frighteningly clever.
"Don't even try it, Bella," I warned, gripping the broken lamp as she stalked around the end of the sofa. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to."
"You can't hurt me," she replied with an angry look. "But I am going to hurt you."
"What the hell is going on," Norah shouted from the doorway.
The next few moments flashed in a blur as, with a low growl, Moose shot across the room and latched onto Bella's arm. Screaming in pain and rage, she struggled wildly before falling backward, dropping the knife and breaking his hold on her arm. Still moving almost inhumanly fast, she turned and crashed through the window with the determined pup right behind her.
I ran to the window just in time to see them disappear behind the barn, and my heart skipped a beat when I heard Moose give a yelp of pain that was followed by the sound of a gunshot. Without a second thought, I leapt through the window with Norah right behind me.
"Where are they," I yelled, frantically turning in a circle and looking in all directions; when we reached the back of the barn to find no sign of either of them.
"Over there," Norah said, pointing towards the old tree in the middle of the pasture where we could see Moose sitting.
"Moose," I called and ran to him all the while, hoping and praying that he was okay.
When we reached him, Moose was just calmly sitting there under the tree with a tattered piece of material in his mouth that he'd torn from Bella's clothes. As for Bella, there was no sight of her, and once again, I was amazed that anyone could move so fast.
I threw my arms around Moose's neck, overjoyed that he seemed to be okay and devastated at the thought that I might have lost him.
"Is he hurt?" I asked Norah, blinking back tears.
"He's going to be fine," she said after looking the pup over. "The bullet just grazed him but luckily didn't do any major damage. He'll probably be sore for a few days, but Celeste will fix him up in no time. And just think the two of you will be able to recuperate together."
“I’ve had enough lying around to last a lifetime,” I replied and rolled my eyes at her.
“Well then, you’re going to have to try and not be so accident-prone,” she answered with a smirk prompting a glare from me.
"And here comes the cavalry," Norah remarked when we heard the pounding of hoofbeats on the dry-packed earth." Minutes later, Nick and two other soldiers rode up.
"We heard shots. Kaley, what happened?" Nick exclaimed, jumping from his horse and crossing over to crouch down by Moose and me.
"Some crazy girl broke into the house and tried to kill Kaley," Norah replied.
"I want her found," Nick said to his men. "If possible, bring her back alive, but if not, then just bring her back."
Nick grabbed my upper arms in his hands, looking me over for damage, "are you okay?"
"I'm fine, but she shot Moose."
"What!" he exclaimed, still holding on to my arms.
"He'll be fine; it's just a flesh wound," Norah interjected." But Kaley really shouldn't be running around like this with a concussion."
"Oh great, I don't know how many more days of lying on the sofa I can take," I groaned.
"Stop whining and grow up; at least you're still alive," Nick, who was still a little on edge after all of the excitement, snapped.
"Why don't you go to hell!" I snapped back and angrily pushed him away.
Norah blinked, "Wow, you two don't get along at all!"
"We would if she wasn't such a spoiled brat."
"Spoiled brat," my eyes widened in anger. "The problem is that you're just a huge ass!" With that, I got on my feet and started the long walk back to the house. I was hoping all the while that I wouldn't fall flat on my face but was too proud to ask for help.
I was aware of Nick and Norah following behind me, but I ignored the two of them and concentrated on just putting one foot in front of the other.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I walked into the kitchen and flopped down in one of the chairs by the table. I was trying my best no
t to look like I was almost ready to collapse. And, obviously not succeeding from the knowing look that Norah threw my way.
"You look like you need this," she said and placed a cold glass of sweet tea on the table in front of me.
"Mmm, cookies," Nick said and snagged a couple from the plate setting in the middle of the table.
"Honestly, do you ever stop eating?" Norah laughed and refilled his glass of tea.
"Only when I'm sleeping," he replied with a grin.
Their banter gave me a couple of minutes to cool down and drink some tea before I filled them in on the previous events that had occurred before they arrived.
"She actually said that she wanted to cut off your face?" Norah echoed in disbelief.
I shrugged tiredly, "I know it sounds completely insane, but that's what she said."
"Damn, that is crazy," Nick remarked with a frown."I think that in light of recent events, it might be a good idea for me to move into the house for the time being. At least that way, Bella will have to go through both Moose and me if she wants to get to Kaley."
"I think that sounds like a good idea," Norah agreed.
Usually, I might have argued that I was perfectly able to take care of myself, but waking up to find Bella right in my face like that had shaken me more than I liked to admit. And I knew that having Nick inside the house would help provide some much-needed peace of mind while I slept at night.
"That's fine with me," I said when a slight movement from the doorway caught my eye, and I noticed Moose staring fixedly at the door. I nudged Nick, who was sitting next to me, and to his credit, he caught on instantly; drawing his handgun, he crept quietly over to the door while Norah and I kept on talking about innocuous things. Reaching the door, he jerked it open, causing the person who was on the other side holding onto the doorknob to almost fall into the room.
Shocked, I jumped up from my chair when the identity of the person on the other side of the door was revealed. Looking almost as surprised as I felt, Iris quickly composed herself and acted as if nothing had happened.