Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter (Book 1): Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter

by Verstraete, C. A.

  They finally parted from the crowd. Lizzie waited, this time not so patiently, as her attorneys finished all the details pertaining to her release. She turned and smiled, ready to thank another well-wisher who moved in beside her. Instead, she found herself face to face with the stout, disapproving figure of Mayor Coughlin. Behind him stood a shorter man she’d never seen before.

  She gasped in alarm and tried to move away, but couldn’t go far. The two men squeezed in so close she began to choke on a stale mixture of cigar smoke, sweat, and the woodsy smell of someone’s aftershave.

  “Excuse me,” she murmured, and fought off a wave of dizziness. “Please, I have to get out. Please, I need some air.”

  The mayor glared in the background as his partner leaned toward her, a menacing look on his face. “This is far from over,” the man muttered. “It ain’t good to be stickin’ yer nose where it don’t belong.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Where is the Assassin?

  —Headline, Providence Journal, June 21, 1893

  “W

  ho was that?” Emma asked as she herded Lizzie out to Mr. Jennings’ conveyance for the welcome ride home. “Whatever did our old goat of a mayor want?”

  “I have no idea,” Lizzie answered on both counts. She got in and reached over to make sure the carriage’s curtains covered the side windows. With a sigh, she leaned back in the seat. “I can’t wait to get home.”

  The not-so-veiled threat from the mayor’s mysterious companion did make her nervous, but she decided to forget both of them for a while. There was plenty of time to fret and worry until she found out more from John or one of the Society members. For now, she simply wanted to enjoy being in her own house again.

  Once inside, Lizzie reveled in the familiar and comfortable surroundings. Unable to stop herself, she slid her fingers along every piece of furniture on her way to the kitchen, maybe to convince herself it had finally happened. Home, I’m finally home!

  As Emma prepared a light repast for them of sweetened lemon tea and an array of delightful finger sandwiches, Lizzie allowed herself to begin planning what she would do with her life. Why, she could do anything now!

  She reached out and squeezed her sister’s hand as Emma set the table. “Emma, I can never, ever thank you enough for standing by me. Words aren’t enough to tell you how grateful I am.”

  “You would’ve done the same for me. We have to help each other.”

  Lizzie nodded, took a big bite of one of the tiny creations filled with meat, or cream cheese and tomato, savoring the flavors. Wasting not a second, she quickly grabbed another. “Mmm, these sandwiches are wonderful. Of course, you could give me cardboard right now. I’d probably eat it and enjoy every single bite.”

  Emma laughed and jumped to her feet. “Oh, one more thing I almost forgot.” She set down a plate of freshly baked cookies. “What kind of a celebration is it without oatmeal cookies?”

  Lizzie grinned and began to laugh harder. “Well, if you don’t mind, I think I’ve had enough oatmeal cookies to last a lifetime. Maybe we should have chocolate, ginger, or sugar cookies from now on.”

  The two of them laughed companionably as they finished lunch. She then headed upstairs for a soothing hot bath, slipped into her softest sleeping gown, and tucked into bed early. She planned to sleep away as many hours as possible no matter how many of the creatures moaned outside.

  Lizzie stirred and finally woke late the next afternoon. She felt refreshed and ready to face the future. She stayed under the covers, her mind filled with plans. I think it’s time to move. With everything behind us, we can both enjoy nicer surroundings. I’m sure Emma would appreciate that. We need to put the bad memories here in the past and move on.

  As she dressed, Lizzie decided to ask Emma if she knew of any properties available up on the Hill. Surely, her sister would agree to her plan. Besides, they could certainly afford it.

  Next, she thought of the trips she and Emma could take. She’d missed several shows like “Lady Windermere’s Fan,” which had received excellent reviews while playing in Boston. Being behind bars, she had been socially deprived for so long. Oh, the things we can do now! I should ask Emma to go shopping. I can use something new to wear. Her sister might like a cheerier, new gown, too, after all those months of somberness and mourning.

  That thought prompted a most unwelcome memory of the beautifully dressed woman who had so thoroughly engaged John’s attention. Was it too late for them? Given the time she had spent locked away, it seemed to be that way.

  The thought of him moving on to someone else angered her. Maybe I’ve simply been a fool. Perhaps I read more into the relationship than was even there. Lizzie realized that given her inexperience with such situations, and her boldly throwing herself at him, it could be so. She sighed. Maybe I clearly misjudged him. She probably had gotten involved in a most unhealthy, one-sided, situation.

  Lizzie pondered those thoughts as she rose and slipped into a lightweight day dress in a dusty rose color that brought out the pink in her cheeks, sans the tight-fitting corset. She hummed as she adjusted the more comfortable and looser fitting chemise. “I’ve been constricted enough,” she muttered. “From now on I intend to do what I like, and dress how I like.”

  Going downstairs, she eyed the telephone hanging smartly on the hallway wall, a change she never regretted. Having their own telephone had certainly made it easier for her to contact Mr. Jennings or for Emma to make other calls. It also became necessary once the trial went on to ensure her and Emma’s privacy.

  Given the unfriendly behavior exhibited by most of the neighbors around her, Lizzie knew she had to keep her and Emma’s lives as private as possible. No need to provide further fodder for gossip. Actually no one had any problems finding one thing or another about her to discuss on their own.

  Lizzie also decided to contact one of the other Society members. She wanted to take a more active role in their work, no matter what John thought. She didn’t know specifically what they’d been doing, but she knew it wasn’t enough. Something more should’ve been done to vanquish those undead creatures by now.

  She had an idea why that hadn’t happened. Maybe she and John could discuss this, hopefully in more intimate surroundings—or not. Whatever the result, she thought, I need to do this. I’ll do it on my own, if necessary.

  As the day wore on, she realized that resuming her life wouldn’t be so easy since others were not as willing to leave her alone, or to give her and Emma some privacy. As she sat downstairs in the parlor, she watched her sister angrily stomp to her feet and go to the front door again to shoo some intruder away from the front walk.

  “I thought all the vultures would lose interest in me now that the trial is over,” Lizzie muttered. “Will it ever end?”

  Emma slammed the door after chasing the man away from the lawn. “I swear he was trying to peek in the windows! The nerve of people!”

  Lizzie went around the dining room and front parlor, pulling down the shades and lighting a few lamps. She felt both angry and sad at the need to block the sunlight. Reporters still knocked on the door, or loitered about. The garish coverage and questions seemed to have no foreseeable end in sight. How long could this go on?

  She stared at the headline in the day’s newspaper and shook her head. With everything happening, she felt her argument for them taking up residence elsewhere becoming stronger.

  “Emma, we really need to move.”

  “Where? It’s not like you’re that unrecognizable.”

  “Not far. I think we should move up to the Hill. We would no longer have people bothering us there. It’s much more private.” And exclusive.

  Emma thought about it a minute and then nodded. “You may be right. I can contact Mr. Jennings for some real estate referrals, if you’d like?”

  “Yes, please do. I can look in the papers and check if anything seems worth seeing, other than the headline.”

  Emma glanced at her in surprise and then laughed
before she went to make her calls. The day began to look much brighter.

  The anniversary of Father and Mrs. Borden’s deaths two months later passed with her and Emma quietly remembering in the midst of boxes, bags, and packing materials. That John had not bothered to make time for them to talk other than a few moments on the telephone annoyed Lizzie, but she had other activities to keep her busy.

  The charming, three-story Victorian they had moved to on the more fashionable French Street proved to be a balm to her frazzled nerves. Rich mahogany accents and the beautiful tin ceilings made the large rooms nice and cozy. She even had a selection of rich linen paper imported from France for one of the rooms. Six of the fourteen rooms had fireplaces, which she loved. Once it got colder, Lizzie looked forward to sitting in front of a fire with a cup of tea and a good book.

  During the warmer months, she spent many an enjoyable hour sitting in the sunroom or on the porch, watching what went on outside from a safe distance. Even better, it had modern amenities like gas lights and a real bath. Oh, the joy!

  Maybe the house was a little large for just the two of them, but with five bedrooms other than hers and Emma’s, Lizzie relished having the space to house potential guests. Even if the furor over the trial didn’t die down soon, she still intended to live her life fully by welcoming guests and friends, maybe even have a dinner party or two.

  Another bonus—being higher up on the street did provide more protection against the creatures that continued to roam and shuffle along the roads all night, and as John had warned, increasingly by day. Emma had mentioned seeing a sudden scuffle near the library when she was out one day, and as she knew the telltale signs, she recognized it as a just-in-time intervention by a Society member.

  She dared not tell Emma since she didn’t want to alarm her, but not even the rigors of moving and unpacking made her sleep any better at night. She loved the new house and felt comfortable here, but bad dreams still plagued her.

  After more hours spent tossing and turning, Lizzie rose and stood at the window, staring at the scene outside. To her surprise, she witnessed several of the creatures shambling slowly up and down the street.

  Being higher up was a bonus, but the long-term still concerned her. In fact, it worried her. What if at some point one or more of those creatures do make it up the incline, right to their front door? As if to illustrate, five of the creatures nearly overtook two men whom she assumed to be Society members out on their regular patrol. It made her realize she could no longer sit idly by. She had to do something. Here was her chance!

  Her mind made up, Lizzie changed into total black including the unconventional, but more practical, bloomers she’d sewn from one of her old dresses, which allowed her more freedom of movement. She quietly went downstairs, the black bag holding a few of her weapons slung over her shoulder. Heart thumping in anticipation, her palms wet, she slipped outside. Call her foolish given the many months of being unable to do any real physical activity, but she expected no real problem. In private, she had continued her exercises and done whatever possible to keep in fairly good condition. No matter what, she wanted—no, needed—to do this.

  Her excitement mounting, Lizzie ran into the street, knowing her movement would attract unwelcome attention. It did. Two of the decayed creatures shuffling at the other end suddenly turned in her direction. Good, let them come.

  They shambled closer and closer, giving her a whiff of rot and the sickly stench of death. She wrinkled her nose and grimaced, almost—but not quite—forgetting how bad the creatures smelled up close. Truth be told, it was something she would ever forget.

  With low moans, they shuffled ever closer. Lizzie took in the nightmare-inducing creatures coming toward her. The first creature’s eyeball dangled. Long white worms crawled in and out of the other empty eye socket. It made a disgusting rasping sound, its pocked and blackened tongue wriggling from between the decayed lips like a snake.

  The other formerly male creature gazed at her from whitened eyes set in what was left of its head, the majority of the skull bashed and broken, exposing a darkened, rotted brain. Lizzie gagged and ignored the images of Father and Mrs. Borden that beckoned in the back of her mind.

  Don’t think of that. Pay attention!

  She stood in the center of the street, waiting for them to draw near. The horrific scrape of foot bones against the brick roadway, coupled with their louder pants and moans like dogs excited about getting a bone, had no effect on her.

  They shuffled near, three feet away, then two. Lizzie scurried backward, quickly pulling the wooden bat and silver knife from her bag. Arms riddled with rot, the hands with gaping black holes where the fingers had fallen off, reached for her. Mere inches remained between her and them. At the last second, the one with the half-skull shuffled to the one side, the other coming straight at her.

  Ah, a smart one, she thought, and maneuvered herself into position just as fast. Her arm pulled back, she took aim and threw the heavy knife at the slightly smarter creature to her right. The weapon hit the center, exposed part of the brain with a thunk. It went down with a groan.

  In seconds, the other one was nearly on her. It lunged with a growl. Lizzie jumped back with seconds to spare, and swung the bat. WHACK! It glanced off the ghoul’s shoulder, sending pieces and slivers of bone sprinkling to the pavement like devil’s snowflakes. WHACK! She hit again, taking note of her position as she turned and perfected her aim.

  Visions flashed in her head. Her mind filled with rivers of blood and decayed, chomping teeth. WHACK! She struck out again, this time connecting with the target. The monster slumped to the ground in an ugly, stinking pile, what was left of its brain oozing out in a bloody, pulpy mass.

  Her mind clear again, she looked down at what she’d done. Oddly enough, she felt nothing. How calm and cool a killer I’ve become, she thought. So be it. It simply had to be done.

  That said, Lizzie grabbed the bat and wiped it with a cloth before tucking it in her bag. Reaching down, she pulled the blade from the creature’s head. It released with a juicy, sucking sound. Keeping her wits, she wiped that off as well, threw the cloth on the ground, and turned to go back inside. Feeling rather pleased, she congratulated herself on seeing it through and doing the necessary, but horrible, tasks without turning into a puking, sniveling mess. Good. I’m ready.

  With daylight only hours away, she cleaned up, changed, and settled into a chair in the parlor with a cup of tea. Her arms felt a little sore, but her outing had left her invigorated and enjoying a feeling of accomplishment. To tell the truth, as terrible as it sounded, she looked forward to doing it again. Most definitely.

  After a short nap, she went to the kitchen and made a light breakfast. She poured hot tea in the cups just as Emma came down the stairs. “You’re up early.” She looked around. “Something smells good.”

  “Sit.” Lizzie put a plate in front of her sister. “Just some sausage and eggs. Eat up. I want to show you something.”

  “No hints?” Emma smiled as she tucked into her food. “Mmm, this is good. You should cook more often.”

  Lizzie waited until Emma was mostly finished with her meal before she shared her news. “I went outside last night.”

  “Oh?”

  “The creatures are on our street now. I saw them from the window.”

  That got Emma’s attention. She set her fork down and stared. “They-they are? That isn’t good.”

  “A pair of Society members held their own against five of the monsters, but they were almost overwhelmed despite their efforts. I went down and took care of the other two creatures. I don’t want you to take this wrong, but I have to admit it felt good. I felt like I was helping others, like I was doing something worthwhile again.”

  Emma eyed her for a moment before speaking. “I know how terrible it is, but it has to be done.”

  Lizzie nodded, glad her sister agreed. “Yes, and we—the two of us—are much better acquainted than most with the evils of these shuffling nigh
tmares, except for longtime members of the Society, of course. I did some thinking. My church friends dropped me. I don’t feel welcome anymore in my old circles. We could have moved anywhere else, but I thought, why should we? I was born here. I want to eventually die here. In the meantime, I want to help.”

  Emma nodded. “Yes, I understand. I think I’d like to help you also, if I can.”

  Her sister’s words left Lizzie energized. “I hoped you would feel that way. I have something to show you. Come downstairs.”

  Unknown to Emma, between the unpacking and getting settled in, Lizzie had hired several men from the Society to transform the lower level into a space suited to their unique needs. She opened the door and turned up the lights. “Ready?”

  Emma followed her down the steps. “I suppose. I admit you have me curious.” She crossed her arms and looked around, her eyebrows raised. “Oh, my.” She kept quiet and took it all in. “So, this is what all the building and pounding has been about? I tried coming down before to look, but the door was locked.”

  Lizzie flashed a smile at her. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I told the builders to not let anyone else in, even you.”

  “Well, it certainly is.”

  She watched Emma scrutinize the finished sitting room which held almost everything they needed, including a bookcase full of their favorite books, a table and chairs, and a comfortable settee. The real secret, however, lay behind the paneled wall.

  “It looks nice.” Emma looked around, still clearly perplexed. “It will be a good space to relax when it gets real hot. Or a good place to hide, you know…”

  She did. “Yes, to hide from them. But there’s much more to this room than us being comfortable and talking about whatever books we’re reading.”

  Lizzie went to a small box near the back wall and pushed a button which caused the wood panel before them to slide open. Motioning Emma to follow, she walked into the small enclosed room fitted with all the accoutrements either of them needed to continue their physical training and preparation for fighting off the creatures. The room held several stuffed mannequins and punching bags for boxing and stabbing lessons. A table held an assortment of knives, throwing weapons, and other equipment. Soft padding covered part of the floor. Body outlines and circular maps decorated the main wall.