Emma gave a nod of encouragement as Lizzie jumped, pointing her own sword toward the stunned group. Some of the creatures looked dazed and slightly confused as they lay tangled in the mess. She put a quick end to them.
The others, already aware of her presence, growled and snarled like feral cats. The red veiny lines crisscrossing the whites of their eyes had no effect on their ability to pinpoint her location. As one, their ugly heads swiveled in Lizzie’s direction. Their sightless eyes locked on her.
The creatures opened mouths filled with stubby pieces of their remaining teeth, or released deep, hungry moans from partial mouths, their jaws hanging or snapped off in the fall. The blunt end of her sword knocked off the rest as she plunged the point into the pulpy mass of their diseased brains. The sword released with a wet slurp.
Lizzie steeled herself, resolving not to go faint at the revolting sights and sounds. She moved on, plunging the sword into the next one and the next after that as fast as she could while her arm strength held.
Despite their Herculean efforts, it wasn’t enough.
The mass of mangled creatures—some near whole, some broken—shouldn’t be able to go anywhere, yet dear God, they still wriggled and squirmed. A quick glance told Lizzie Pierre had made a little progress but he, too, couldn’t stop all of them.
They jabbed and stabbed, trying to finish off the group. Then the nightmare escalated. While most of the creatures fell when the railing broke, the gallery itself had held. As the first group toppled off the edge, the others had somehow pushed to the sides and away from the open edges. Now they stood and watched from sightless eyes. To her horror Lizzie noticed something she hadn’t seen before in any of the other monsters they’d already encountered: true cunning.
Several of the ghouls moved forward with a snarl, reached out, and then slunk back from the edge before trying it again. This methodic, ghoulish dance kept on for several minutes. With a loud growl, one flung itself off the edge. It landed on top of the slithering, wriggling pile on the right side of the room and slowly stumbled to an upright position atop the moving mass. Amazingly, it continued to stand on its crumpled feet, the broken toes splayed sideways as it shambled its way off the pile with a loud moan.
“Pierre!”
“Got it,” he cried.
ROWR! URRRRRRHHHH!
The room filled with ugly roars and growls as the creatures began to topple and fall one after the other, the broken ghouls below serving as their ghastly cushion.
To Lizzie, it felt like hell had opened its mouth and spewed out its contents.
Chapter Thirty-Three
$12,000,000 Blaze at Fall River.
Started in Abandoned Mill.
—Headline, The New London Day,
New London, Connecticut
“E
mma!” Lizzie yelled.
All she could do was glance quickly in her sister’s direction before the creatures required all her attention. To her dismay, the remaining twenty ghouls that had been stranded on the gallery now stood on wobbling but unbroken legs and feet atop the pile of other ghouls.
The ghouls gazed at them with evil faces. Their mouths chomping and biting, they moved forward almost as one. Crack. Crunch. Crash. The cracking and breaking of the skulls and bones of the other monsters beneath them sent the hairs on Lizzie’s neck shooting up like spring grass. Goosebumps covered her arms.
She grabbed the revolver from her bag, hurriedly cocked it, and aimed. CRACK! The first went down with began shooting. She repeated her actions, again and again, hitting other monsters. Thank goodness her aim and preparation time had improved. All too soon, though, she found herself out of bullets, which in her haste and stupidity she hadn’t replenished.
Tossing the gun aside, she pulled out her sword and swung. THWACK. It hit bone. She swung again, cutting through the spinal cord like rope. She struck several others, but a problem soon became apparent. Even as she and Pierre vanquished many of the ghouls, some still managed to slink behind the front group. They shuffled off to the side where her sister offered a more attractive target standing on that platform.
Emma bravely stabbed the metal pole at the snarling creatures reaching for her across the several-foot chasm. Lizzie gasped as a couple overeager creatures leaned in too far. They fell like spinning tops, and with a final moan, got sucked inch by horrible inch down the hole under the moving stones. She turned aside, sickened, as the creatures continued to moan and claw at them even as their bodies were ground into a pulpy, gooey mess. Pockets of awful gray dust floated in the air and made her sneeze.
Lizzie’s alarm grew at the sight of yet more creatures focusing on Emma. Uh-oh. It made her think of David versus Goliath, though this fight couldn’t be more unfair. Holding both the sword and her bat high, she ran, waving her arms at the group gathered on the left side of the pit.
“Emma! Move to your right. Get them to come closer to me!”
Emma went sideways, sending the gruesome group shuffling to the right with low, plaintive moans.
Taking a deep breath and trying to block out the wretched scent of decay, Lizzie gathered speed and ran, both weapons at the ready. She swung and hit the creatures at the rear of the group closest to her their focus yet on Emma. Pulpy brains and black gook sprayed the walls, her face, and everywhere else. Lizzie choked at the rotten stench and wiped her face with a grimace. The bloody image of her father flashed in her mind. No, don’t think of that. Ignore it.
Emma’s scream broke Lizzie out of the bad memory fast. “Liz-Lizzie, HELP!”
A loud clatter and an ear-piercing screech of metal on stone made her wince. Lizzie’s eyes widened at sight of the most heart-rending scene she would ever witness: Emma backed against the platform, the metal pole stuck in the chasm where it had dropped. From the edge of the now- stopped grinding stones, several sets of diseased, mangled hands reached out and grabbed for her.
“Pierre, help Emma, get to Emma!”
Lizzie screamed and ran toward the monsters, picking up and throwing anything she could get her hands on. Her efforts proved useless, of course. They ignored her, but her bat proved more deadly as she yelled and swung. “Argggh!” The skull of the ghoul nearest to her cracked and exploded. Fragments and nasty-smelling remains scattered everywhere like an anarchist’s bomb exploding in a graveyard.
“Emma, watch out! Use my sword!” Lizzie threw the weapon onto the floor of the platform. Emma grabbed it and swung at the other creature, but missed.
“Emma, don’t stop. Jab! Keep swinging!”
The creatures’ heads swiveled in Lizzie’s direction for an instant, but Emma’s proximity was too enticing. They waved mangled arms at her. Black ooze covered the stones as the ghouls’ hands scraped against the edges of the rock. With each movement, the remaining soft, decayed tissue scraped off, turning the ends of the ghouls’ arms into gory stumps. Yet that didn’t stop them.
Then, as if the worst hadn’t already happened, it did: more creatures shuffled in her direction, giving Lizzie no choice but to leave Emma and go after them. She turned, but not before witnessing something that made her even more panicked—a plume of smoke rising from beneath the stones.
“Fire!” Emma yelled and stepped back, while she swung the sword at the ghouls surrounding the platform. “I see flames. Lizzie, Pierre, help me! Please! Get me out of here!”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Heat Wave and Drought in Europe.
Malaria Everywhere in Wisconsin.
A Terrible Famine… Dead Bodies Devoured.
—Assorted headlines, 1893
L
izzie’s adrenaline shifted into high alert as she ran and bashed the creatures however she could. Several went down, and a few fell yet continued to chomp and scrabble across the stone floor like demented crabs. Another swing of her bat ended their demonic progress. She had no time to worry about them, though, as she plunged into the rapidly burgeoning smoke.
“Emma? Emma, can you see me?”
“No,
no, it’s too smoky.”
“Are any of them still near you?” She coughed again. “Emma?”
In the few minutes since the flames had shot up from the floor below, the fire had grown in size and strength. Lizzie coughed and covered her mouth with the hem of her dress as she waved at the billowing clouds of smoke. She whispered a prayer that neither she nor any of those creatures got too close to each other in the haze.
“Emma! Pierre, do you see her?”
Lizzie’s heart pounded like a drum as she stumbled through the smoke. She put one foot carefully in front of the other and felt her way since the smoky barrier had totally confounded her sense of direction. “Emma, I can’t see anything at all. I need you to keep talking to me. Pierre?”
Emma’s voice came to her as if from a distance. “Lizzie, I-I don’t see you, where are you? Liz-Lizzie!”
“Here, I see you,” Pierre called. “I can see the pole by the stones. I’m reaching—” His words broke off. “Holy—” he yelled again and cursed.
Lizzie moved forward at a snail’s pace, feeling around with her foot first so she didn’t end up too close to the pit and fall in by mistake. Pierre’s grunts, and the guttural sounds of one of the creatures, told her the two had met unexpectedly in the smoke. A shiver went down her back as she thought how wrong that situation could have gone.
Something fell to her left with a thump and disappeared, letting her know where the pit was. “Emma, are you all right? Pierre?”
“Y-yes, I’m fine.” Emma’s voice wavered. “Please, hurry.”
A second later, Lizzie broke through the smoke. She spotted Pierre, who was trying his best to ward off two stronger creatures that had managed to stay on the attack. She gave a huge cry and rushed forward as one of the monsters turned its ghastly, bashed-in face in her direction.
Using every ounce of strength she had, Lizzie swung the bat at the black hole on top of the creature’s open skull. The bat struck dead-on, crushing the skull and diseased brain mass like a hard-shelled nut.
“Ugh.” Lizzie grimaced and pulled the bat free as the ghoul fell truly dead at her feet like a discarded rag doll. “Emma?”
“I have her,” Pierre called out. “I see you. Go a few steps forward. Stay away from your left side.”
Lizzie broke through the smoke, getting a heart-wrenching glimpse of Emma huddled against the back of the platform. All she could do was hold her breath as her sister attempted to leap from the platform.
Instead, Emma came to an abrupt halt and backed up. She shook her head and sobbed.
“No, no, I-I can’t,” Emma cried. “I can’t do it. I won’t make it across. My legs are too wobbly.”
All of them had the same wide-eyed stare, the blackened face, and the damaged clothing of people who’d been in war. However, Lizzie thought Emma looked more worn out from her battle. Her hair stood out in a messy halo around her head. The hem and sleeves of her dress hung in shreds. Black gook spotted her face. Giant patches of blood and gore streaked her arms.
As Emma struggled to get her footing, Pierre leaped across to the platform. “Liz, your sword!” He picked up the weapon and threw it to her while he encouraged Emma. Lizzie screamed and urged Emma to move when flames burst into view from beneath the platform. “Go, Emma, jump, jump! You have to get out of there!”
As if to make the point, an odd sound at the doorway caught her ear. Lizzie glanced up in alarm at the sight of several undead creatures shambling in from the outer hall. Then a few more snarling, ugly specimens followed in after them. Their moans filled the air.
“Emma, you have to jump. NOW! We have to go!”
The smoke suddenly billowed up as a flame burst through the open hole in the pit and urged Pierre to action. He took Emma by the arm.
“Together. We go on the count of three. One, two, three!”
Emma screamed as they leaped and Pierre pulled her across the chasm. They landed in a pile, Pierre rolling and holding her, trying to absorb most of the fall. He jumped to his feet and helped Emma up while Lizzie tried to head off the group of creatures shuffling faster in their direction. She swung the bat, sending the two closest to her tumbling like dice, but the others kept coming.
Quick as a flash, Pierre wrapped his hands with a piece of cloth and yanked the metal pole from where it had stuck in the pit, the end sizzling from the flames below like a freshly cooked steak. Lizzie had to grimace as he jabbed the heated end through one of the creature’s eye sockets, literally frying its diseased brains with a disgusting snap, crackle, and pop.
He jabbed the still-sizzling pole at another one, filling the room with the acrid, sickening odor of charred flesh. “Go, get out of here!” He yelled and waved them on. “I’ll catch up. Go before more come in!”
Lizzie grabbed her sister by the arm. They ran a few steps when, to Lizzie’s horror, Emma stumbled and fell. “Owww! My ankle! I twisted it! Lizzie, help!”
Pierre’s warning came too late. With no other choice, Lizzie flung the bat to Emma and started whacking at the ugly creatures stumbling through the door with her sword. She swung and stabbed, cut and whacked. Heads rolled, rotted flesh fell to the floor in gory piles. Lizzie felt the fatigue and war-weariness creep into her arms with each strike.
She wished it would end.
Finally, the room cleared of zombies, she took a breath and rubbed her aching arms only to see Emma slump over in a faint. To make things worse, another creature had slipped into the room undetected. It now shambled unimpeded in Emma’s direction. Lizzie gasped as it shambled forward, intent on its prey, black drool dripping from its mouth.
“NOOOOO!” Lizzie screamed and ran, sword pointed, hoping those few seconds were enough time for her to reach her sister. Luckily, Pierre got there first. With a yell, he whacked off the head of the approaching creature seconds before Lizzie reached it.
“Go ahead, hurry, I have her,” Pierre yelled. “Let’s get out of here!”
He picked Emma up from the floor and into his arms. She groaned, but remained unconscious as the two of them ran out the door and down the labyrinth-like hall. Billows of smoke had them coughing, but hadn’t fully filled the building yet. They pounded down the stairs and ran past the workroom, the mortuary, and more creatures shambling around, lost in the various rooms.
They banged out the door and leaned against the wall outside, sucking in the fresh air. Thankfully, Lizzie saw Pierre had been more insightful than she’d been and had closed the courtyard gates behind him. Several of the creatures clawed at the bars as the horse whinnied and nervously pawed the ground. They had no time for celebration, however, as they spotted several ghouls inside shuffling in their direction.
“Liz, hurry, shut the door.” He gently placed Emma into the carriage’s backseat. “It may not keep them in, but at least it will slow them down.”
Seeing that another creature had now joined the other two at the gates, Lizzie doubted they could escape without drawing the attention of more. But again, Pierre demonstrated his ability to think fast and plan ahead, something she failed to do. In that respect, he and Emma were a lot alike.
He laid out his plan. “Our only chance is to rush out of here full-speed. The horse is already panicked, but we have to do it. Go unhook the gate. Once it swings open, jump in the carriage. We should run down any of them that get in the way. Ready?”
She wasn’t as sure as he was, but agreed since they had few choices. She took a deep breath and unhooked the gate. The monsters outside lunged, snarled, and pushed the gate open. Lizzie ran back in a panic, and as Pierre kept a tight hold on the horse’s reins, she leaped in beside Emma, holding her close as two of the ghouls stumbled toward them.
“YAA!” Pierre flicked the reins. “YAA!”
The horse screamed and lunged, rushing the gate at a gallop. Lizzie tightened her hold on her sister as the carriage swung wildly. It ran over the creatures, and bounced her and Emma to the opposite end of the bench. Emma mumbled something as the horse screamed and c
harged.
The carriage spun around the corner in a wide arc as the horse galloped onto Main Street.
Pierre strained and pulled at the reins, admonishing the horse, “Whoa, there, whoa,” until finally it slowed its frantic pace. He managed to slow the horse to a trot before stopping at the side of the road. No one said a word.
Lizzie took in their surroundings. Tears filled her eyes at the sight of what had happened during the hours they had been trapped inside.
All around them was utter chaos. It looked like the end of the world.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I am far from my home, and I’m weary after whiles, for the longed for home-bringing, and my Father’s welcome smiles…
—From “My Ain Countrie,” Lizzie’s favorite hymn
A
ll around them, overturned wagons littered the street, their goods spilled all over the roadway. Loose horses trotted around the debris, or ran around in a panic, their reins or harnesses tangled. People helped each other from their carriages and worked to help free the injured. Flames flared from the broken windows of several store buildings. In the distance, dark plumes of smoke rose in the air, signaling the fires had spread closer to the mills and to the warehouses by the riverfront.
Lizzie knew they had no time to stay, or ponder the events, as screams rent the air. More ghouls had arrived. Wherever Lizzie looked she saw them, a true nightmare come to life. The creatures shambled onto the street, sending people fleeing. Those who paid no attention found themselves overtaken by the creatures as evidenced by the increasing screams.
Pierre urged the horse forward. “We’d better get out of here.”
He swung the carriage around just as one of the ghouls stumbled into view and made its way, growling and moaning, toward a neatly- coiffed older woman and her well-dressed husband. The elderly couple stood beside their carriage in shock, arm in arm, too frightened to move.
“Wait, wait!” Lizzie jumped out and pulled the stunned couple toward the carriage. The woman whimpered as Lizzie pushed her inside. The man, dapper in brushed gray pants, a matching jacket and matching gray hat, nervously rubbed his silvery mustache and bobbed his head timidly in thanks.
Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter (Book 1): Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter Page 21