The Torn World: The Harvesting Series Book 5

by Melanie Karsak

  When I got to the back of the building, I found the sad source of the awful smell. Inside the kennels were the decayed remains of too many dogs. My heart hurt. It made me so sad to think they’d starved to death locked up like that.

  “We’ve got it all,” Chase called.

  I turned to go back when I heard a thump outside. Great. Had the first of the undead gotten there already?

  I went to the back door to see that it led into an outside kennel area. The scene was a lot like the image inside.

  Something bumped the door once more.

  Standing up on my tiptoes, I pressed my forehead against the glass and looked down. To my surprise, two little brown eyes were looking up at me.

  I opened the door slowly. When I did, I found a small, very thin dog sitting on the other side of the door.

  “Well, I’ll be. Look at you,” I said, then bent down on one knee to pat him. Poor little thing was nothing more than skin and bones. He licked my face, pawing at my knee. “How in the world did you make it?” I asked then stepped into the small space.

  All the kennels were closed. One kennel, however, had a hole in the fence. In the back of the dog run was a storage shed. From the looks of it, the little dog had chewed his way through the door.

  “Poor little guy,” I said, bending to pet him once more. He was a cute little thing, brown eyes, pink nose, and white blaze on his chest. Maybe some kind of dachshund and beagle mix. I looked at his collar. “Frankie,” I said, reading the name.

  He yipped once, tail wagging happily. “Well, Frankie. You just restored my faith in the world. Now let me restore yours because I’m pretty sure I saw some dog treats inside,” I said then turned and headed back, my new friend following along behind me.

  When I turned the corner, I found the others waiting for me.

  “Look what I found,” I said with a smile.

  Chase grinned. “You sure you know what you found? Last time you had a dog…”

  “Logan?”

  Logan laughed. “No. He’s just a dog.”

  “All right then, your clearance is approved,” I told Frankie as we headed back toward the front. I grabbed the plastic jar of dog biscuits off the counter, tossing several to Frankie, and we went outside. We were just in time because the horde of zombies from the medical center had just found us.

  “Crap. Everyone in,” Zoey said, slipping into the driver’s seat.

  “Man, they had some hustle in their step,” Chase said.

  “Well, we damned near rang the supper bell for them,” I replied, setting the apprehensive dog inside. Once he saw the biscuits, though, he warmed up to the idea.

  “Okay. Change of direction,” Zoey said then pulled the Jeep onto the grass. We bumped across two back lawns and then crossed a small park, dodging picnic pavilions and two of the wandering undead. Then she pulled the Jeep back onto the road. Turning, she headed back across town. When she made one last turn, however, we found ourselves at a barricaded intersection. On the other side, a lot of undead were trying to push through.

  “Well, that’s new,” she said, putting the Jeep into reverse.

  “Across the courthouse parking lot,” Logan suggested as he eyed a group of undead moving toward us.

  “Why are there so many of them floating around?” I asked as I gazed out the window. My nerves were on edge. I knew this wasn’t good.

  “Something must have attracted them. We just got in the mix,” Chase said.

  And then we heard it. Gunfire.

  “Shit,” Zoey said, then turned the Jeep down a side street and around a colossal old building then into a parking lot where we came across an unexpected scene. In the center of the parking lot, a guy and a girl were standing on the roof of a tractor trailer shooting at a horde that had collected around them.

  My eyes took in the scene real quick. Between the roof of the tractor trailer and the building had been some sort of makeshift bridge which was now hanging, broken, from a window in an upper floor of the courthouse.

  “Look,” I said, pointing. “They must have got stuck up there.”

  “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Zoey said to Logan.

  “Yes,” Logan replied.

  “What do we do?” Zoey asked.

  “What we always do,” I replied, casting a glance at Chase. “We save the living.” I reached into the back and pulled out the best find recovered from Moonshine Pete’s house, an automatic weapon. I handed it to Chase.

  “We’re going to draw every asshole in town,” he warned.

  “Doesn’t matter. Let’s finish these, grab those two kids, and get the hell out of here.”

  “Better get down,” I told Frankie who whimpered and laid on the floor.

  A moment later, the automatic started rattling.

  The two kids on the roof looked in our direction in shock.

  I jumped out and started picking off the undead coming from behind. Logan joined me. As soon as we had cleared a path, I waved toward the guy and girl. “Come on,” I called to them.

  The two paused and looked at us, unsure what to do.

  “Brian! Brianna! Here,” Zoey yelled to them.

  Okay, not strangers. Well, that explained the comment.

  The pair scurried down the ladder on the back of the semi and rushed toward us. Zoey and Chase picked off the advancing horde while Logan and I took care of those coming around the back. But they kept coming.

  “Getting swamped,” I called.

  “Here too,” Chase yelled, and then I heard it…well, I heard nothing. “I’m out of ammo.”

  “Zoey?” the boy called.

  “Get in, get in,” she told him. I turned to see that the horde had made their way to us, Zoey now fighting them hand-to-hand.

  I pulled my machete and ran back.

  “Logan, Chase, get in,” I called. “Everyone, let’s go.”

  I saw Zoey swing her baseball bat hard, knocking the undead away so the pair that had been on the truck could get into the Jeep. Chase slid into the driver’s seat as Logan made a dash for the vehicle, the newcomers following behind.

  “Zoey, come on,” I called to her.

  “Brian and Brianna first. Get in. I’m not leaving you again,” she called, holding off the undead so the pair could get past.

  I rushed to her aid as Chase turned on the engine. I cast a glance back.

  “They’re in. They’re in,” I told Zoey.

  Zoey and I ran back to the Jeep.

  “Go on,” I told Zoey.

  Turning, I shot an undead man advancing fast toward me, the others following hard behind him.

  “Cricket, let’s go,” Chase yelled.

  Then, I saw it. It was like everything around me slowed. An undead man, moving quickly, blasted out from behind the dumpster nearby and grabbed for Zoey. She was too close. Too close.

  “No,” I screamed, pushing Zoey out of the way.

  Then, I felt it.

  It was like a thousand wasps bit my arm all at once.

  “Cricket,” Zoey yelled, pulling me back. She grabbed my machete and sliced the man’s head off.

  His teeth released.

  His head fell to the ground.

  I could feel arms on me as others pulled me into the Jeep. The vehicle shot off, away from the terrible scene.

  Pain shot up my arm to my shoulder. Nausea swept over me.

  “Cricket! What the hell happened?” Chase called.

  “She pushed me out of the way,” Zoey said.

  It all happened so fast.

  So fast.

  My arm felt like it was on fire.

  “Cricket, are you all right? Zoey, what’s going on? Cricket?” Chase called.

  “She’s bit,” Zoey said.

  I looked up at Zoey who was holding me against her chest while Logan worked quickly to tourniquet my arm.

  “Cricket,” Zoey said softly.

  “It’s okay. Gotta save the living,” I whispered then closed my eyes.

  CHAP
TER 29: AMELIA

  I STUCK MY HAND OUT THE WINDOW, feeling the warm breeze. I closed my eyes and let the air brush my face.

  “Goddess Mother, thank you for the chance to speak to my mother one last time. It is a rare and sacred blessing. Thank you for that.”

  We’d stayed awhile after the injection in hope there would be some sort of change, but there wasn’t. Layla wasn’t able to reach my mother again.

  No one spoke as we drove home. The cure had failed. No matter how the doctor’s tests had turned out in her animal trials, it had failed in a human trial. I was so sure it would work. I had seen my mother’s light, just small flecks of it fighting all around her. Now, her color had just imploded, everything turning black and red. It had been too much to look at.

  Layla, who sat between me and Tristan, held my hand. The energy coming off her, warm and sympathetic, comforted me. I knew what the failure meant to Layla. There was no hope for her fiancé now either. The idea made me terribly sad.

  When we arrived at the gates of Witch Wood, Tristan opened the truck door and moved to get out.

  “No,” I said. “Let me practice.”

  “All right, Amelia.”

  I slid out and stood in front of the gate.

  There was no cure.

  There was no hope.

  But maybe just a little bit of magic could still save us.

  CHAPTER 30: CRICKET

  I OPENED MY EYES JUST A CRACK. Chase and Logan were laying me down in the billiard room.

  “What the hell? What happened?” Ariel said.

  “Where’s Vella?” Chase asked.

  “Upstairs.”

  “Get her. Now. You, go find Madame Knightly,” Chase said, but he sounded real far away, and my ears had started ringing real bad.

  Footsteps rushed away.

  I coughed hard and felt the tang of blood on my lips.

  “Dammit. God dammit,” Chase said, tearing a strip of his shirt to wipe the blood away.

  “Don’t take the lord’s name in vain,” I whispered.

  Chase laughed.

  “Tristan?” I asked.

  “Still gone.”

  “Bar the doors. If she turns, we cannot let her out,” I heard Madame Knightly say followed by the sound of doors clattering shut.

  “No. No fucking way. We need that medicine. She’s still here. We need that cure right now. Where’s Beatrice?” Chase said.

  “Still gone,” someone said.

  “Mommy, what’s happening?” I heard one of the girls ask.

  “Zoey, go get that shot. Logan, go with her and get the right one,” Chase said.

  A flood of feet ran the other direction.

  “We don’t know if it works. They aren’t back yet.” Was it Jamie who said that? No, couldn’t have been. Jamie was dead.

  My body jerked. Someone poured cold water over my arm.

  “Cricket,” I heard Vella exclaim followed by the sound of small bells as she rushed across the room. “What happened?”

  “Bit,” Chase replied.

  “Maybe if we take her arm it will stop the infection,” someone said. Was it Darius?

  “No,” I heard Logan call. “No, I’ve got it. I…I don’t know how to give a shot.”

  There was silence for a moment. My head was ringing like a bell. Everyone and everything felt really far away. I felt like I was going to be sick.

  “I can do it,” I heard Frenchie say. “I studied phlebotomy for a semester. I can do it.”

  A moment later, I saw a mountain of red hair in front of me.

  “Mommy?”

  “Stay there, girls.”

  “Oh look, a puppy!” one of the girls squeaked.

  “Cricket,” I heard Frenchie say softly. “Cricket? Can you hear me? I’m going to inject you now.” Someone held my arm tightly. I felt a sharp poke.

  I closed my eyes. My head felt so heavy. I felt hot tears slide down the side of my face.

  “Don’t leave me,” Vella whispered in my ear.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but my words failed me.

  And then there was nothing but darkness.

  CHAPTER 31: LAYLA

  WHEN THE TRUCK PULLED TO A STOP behind an unfamiliar Jeep in the driveway outside Witch Wood, a terrible feeling swept over me.

  “Something’s wrong,” I whispered.

  Amelia nodded. “I feel it too.”

  Vella rushed out, Madame Knightly appearing at the door behind her.

  “Tristan,” Vella called.

  “Vella? What is it?” he asked.

  Vella’s face was deathly pale. “There was a problem.”

  Tristan looked from Vella to Madame Knightly. “Where’s Cricket?”

  Vella looked scared. “Tristan…Cricket’s group got pinned down. She was bit, but we gave her the antidote the doctor—”

  “What? No,” Beatrice said, rushing inside, all of us following along behind her.

  “Where is she?” Amelia asked, panic filling her voice.

  “In the gentlemen’s parlor,” Madame Knightly replied.

  We raced to the room to find Cricket lying on the billiard table. Frenchie was inspecting a bandage on her arm and checking her for fever. My stomach knotted at the sight. Oh no, not her.

  “What is it?” Madame Knightly asked as she followed along behind us.

  “The cure,” I replied. “It didn’t work.”

  She look confused. “Are you certain?”

  “Amelia’s mother…it sent her into a kind of frenzy. After that, she was gone,” I explained.

  “Cricket,” Tristan said with a gasp, taking her hand. “She’s cold.”

  Beatrice took Cricket’s hand and felt her pulse.

  “Well?” Vella asked.

  “Sounds okay,” Beatrice said. “Steady.”

  “What happened?” I asked Chase.

  “We found two kids. Zoey knew them. We saved them from a horde. Cricket held the line, made sure Zoey got into the vehicle. She…she was protecting the others.”

  “Zoey okay?” I asked.

  Chase nodded.

  “Had she turned?” Beatrice asked.

  “No.”

  “I need the medical bag from the library,” Beatrice said.

  “I’ll get it,” Logan said.

  “Who were the two kids you found?” Amelia asked.

  “Um, Brian, maybe. And a girl. Something with a B,” Chase replied.

  “Brianna?”

  “Yeah, that was it.”

  “Cricket?” Tristan whispered, holding her hand in his. “Do you hear me?” Tears streamed down his face.

  “How long? How long ago did you give her the shot?” Beatrice asked as she continued to examine Cricket.

  “About thirty minutes,” Frenchie said. “I bandaged the wound.”

  “Let’s have a look,” Beatrice answered.

  Frenchie began to slowly unwind the bandage as Amelia looked closely at Cricket.

  “Cricket?” Tristan whispered, reaching out to touch her face.

  My heart nearly broke at the sight.

  “Bad. I need to get her going with some antibiotics. The wound looks clean. You did well,” Beatrice told Frenchie.

  My eyes, however, were on Amelia who was rubbing her hands together very slowly.

  “Amelia?” Madame Knightly said. Her inquiry caught all our attention. Even Tristan looked up at the girl.

  “She’s there,” Amelia said. “I see her. She’s fighting. Her aura is so strong. Hot pink and yellow,” Amelia said with a smile. “The darkness that surrounds the wound is fighting her,” she said then turned to Tristan and the others. “Please, everyone, can you give me some space?”

  We all stepped back and watched.

  Amelia took a deep breath, focusing as she began moving slowly around Cricket’s body. Her hands worked as if she was pulling something off of Cricket.

  “See. See everything,” my grandmother had told me. I tried to focus, tried to see what Amelia could see. But I
couldn’t. I cast a glance at Vella. I knew that she, like me, had eyes into the otherworld. But whatever it was that Amelia could see, I could tell by the expression on Vella’s face, she couldn’t see it either.

  Amelia worked slowly. “It’s coming off,” Amelia whispered as she continued to circle Cricket’s body.

  I closed my eyes. “Cricket?” I whispered with my mind.

  But there was nothing, no answer.

  And I was glad.

  When Amelia got to the wound, she labored hard. Her breathing accelerated. Sweat dripped down Amelia’s forehead, and she turned very pale.

  “That’s my good girl,” Madame Knightly whispered under her breath.

  Struggling, Amelia finally tugged at…something. She pulled and pulled, grunting and straining, then finally whatever it was seemed to snap. Amelia lost her balance and tumbled backward a few steps.

  Taking a huge gasp of air, Cricket sat up, her eyes wide open and bright blue.

  “Tristan?” she called then slumped back.

  Tristan rushed to her side.

  “I’m here, my lovely tilt girl.”

  “I found a dog,” Cricket whispered, making everyone smile.

  Beatrice checked Cricket’s pulse. After a few minutes, she nodded. “She’s okay.”

  Tristan wept, his sense of relief palpable.

  I felt like I finally exhaled.

  I crossed the room to Amelia who looked like she was about to drop. I put my arm around her waist and led her toward the kitchen. “You need to drink something,” I told her.

  “Yeah,” she said, nodding absently.

  In the kitchen, two strangers sat at the breakfast nook, both of them eating heaping plates of food. They looked up when we entered.

  “Amelia?” the girl said in surprise.

  “Brianna? Brian?” Amelia said, shaking her head with confusion. The girl’s knees went soft. I barely kept her upright.

  The boy she’d called Brian crossed the room, helping me get Amelia into a chair at the table.

  “I…I don’t understand. How…” Amelia said.