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

by Verstraete, C. A.

  That said, Lizzie knew it was important to keep her spirits up, for both her sake, and Emma’s. She had much to be thankful for—both of them did. They had a fine home. They wanted for nothing. The re-appearance of Pierre in her life had been an unexpected bonus. She decided to ask for his help in adding more safety reinforcements around the house. It would make her feel much better.

  Lizzie relayed the day’s events to her sister as she carried the tray carefully down the stairs. “I know neither of us wanted to go to Father’s business again, but Pierre was quite helpful. Actually, it was nice to see him.”

  She decided to not mention her decision to see Pierre again, pushing down the feelings of guilt over her lie of omission. She felt it as necessary as her need not to tell Pierre the whole truth about Emma’s condition. They would face that later.

  The bowl of bloody beef pieces and raw chicken parts clanged against the bars of the specially-built cage that had been installed as a precaution when they first moved in. It had seemed a wise move to make for protection at the time. She’d never envisioned how much it would be needed later.

  Lizzie turned away, raising her voice to block out the grunts, groans, and obnoxious noises the undead Emma made as she crammed the raw food into her mouth. The twice-daily meals appeased Emma and kept her quiet, which allowed Lizzie to keep her sister hidden and safely confined.

  As far as anyone knew, Emma had recovered from her illness and moved away, something Lizzie realized would never happen—not once she’d found the gouge on Emma’s back.

  Once it became clear Emma would never recover, Lizzie had wrapped her in a blanket and managed to drag her still-unconscious sister downstairs. There, she’d tried to make her as comfortable as possible in her new surroundings.

  Despite Emma’s transformation, Lizzie could not—and would never—see her as one of them, one of those horrible, bloodthirsty creatures who preyed upon others. Not Emma. Not the sister who had stood by her through all her trials. No, Emma wasn’t like that, and never would be.

  Lizzie resolved to make their home a haven, a place of peace, where she would care for Emma as her sister had cared for her. She would do that no matter what, and for as long as Emma needed her.

  ~* ~* ~*~

  If you enjoyed this book, I hope you’ll write and post a short review. Even a short line or two is appreciated and helpful to other readers. If you do post a review, I’d love to hear about it. I also may share part of it on my blog and/or website. I love hearing what readers think!

  Be sure to sign up for my occasional newsletter (at top center column) at my website. Thank you!

  —C.A. Verstraete, chris@cverstraete.com

  Message from the Author

  Dear Reader,

  I was always taken with Lizzie Borden’s story and the never-ending debate of whether she was innocent or guilty.

  To this day, the Borden murders continue to be an intriguing crime, one that may never be fully solved—until now. After taking another look at the ghastly crime scene photos of Lizzie’s father and stepmother, I knew why the crime occurred—at least in an alternate, fictional sense.

  This book is the result of my musings. I think once you’ve read the story you’ll see that it is entirely plausible

  Thank you for coming along on my journey and getting to know the “real” Lizzie Borden.—Christine Verstraete

  The Real Life Crime

  To this day, there is no clear consensus as to who actually committed the double murders of Andrew J. Borden and his wife Abby Durfee Borden at 92 Second Street in Fall River, Massachusetts, on a hot August morning in 1892.

  While many believe former Sunday School teacher Lizzie Andrew Borden was guilty, there is no evidence directly linking her to the crime. A handle-less hatchet found by police in the cellar was presumed—but never proven—to be the murder weapon.

  Lizzie, a 32-year-old spinster, reportedly discovered her 70-year-old father, Andrew J. Borden, lying dead on the settee in the sitting room near 11 a.m. on August 4, 1892. He had been struck 10 times with a hatchet or axe. The body of her 64-year-old stepmother, Abby Durfee Borden, was found bent over on her knees by the bed in the upstairs guest bedroom. She had been struck 18 times, according to the autopsy report.

  Lizzie was arrested for the murders following a three-day inquest held August 9 to 11, 1892. A grand jury began hearing evidence in November, with Lizzie indicted for the crimes on December 2.

  The “trial of the century” held June 5 to June 20, 1893 in the New Bedford Superior Court garnered nationwide media attention and interest worldwide, especially once the verdict came in: not guilty. The sensational crime would have been punishable by an equally grisly death—hanging on the gallows.

  Lizzie and Emma were later estranged, but Lizzie continued to live in Fall River until her death on June 1, 1927 at age 67. She is buried next to her parents and sister in the family plot at Oak Grove Cemetery.

  Sources

  Following are some great places to read original documents and other background material about the Borden murders, along with a list of key places to visit. (Links were checked at the time of writing.)

  Books

  * Lizzie Borden: Past & Present by Leonard Rebello (1999, out of print)

  * The Lizzie Borden Sourcebook by David Kent, Robert A. Flynn and Adolph Caso (2012)

  Newspapers and Research

  * “Enduring Mystery: The Life and Trials of Lizzie Borden” (2013). Six-day Providence Journal series, or search special reports: http://tinyurl.com/qx2u3vq

  * Herald News crime chronology:

  http://www.heraldnews.com/news/20160803/timeline-day-of-borden-murders

  * Library of Congress, period newspaper stories on the case: http://www.loc.gov/rr/news/topics/borden.html

  * Tattered Fabric, Lizzie Borden blog, Faye Musselman: https://phayemuss.wordpress.com

  * University of Amherst investigation into the Borden case: http://ccbit.cs.umass.edu/lizzie/intro/home.html

  * University of Missouri, Kansas City School of Law. Crime scene photos, news accounts, transcript excerpts: http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/lizzieborden/bordenhome.html

  * Warps and Wefts, Lizzie Borden blog:

  http://lizziebordenwarpsandwefts.com

  Places of Interest

  * Fall River Historical Society: http://www.fallriverhistorical.org

  * Lizzie Borden Bed & Breakfast/Museum, 230 2nd St., site of the original Borden home at 92 Second St. Maplecroft, the home Lizzie bought after the trial, is also opening as a B&B. https://lizzie-borden.com

  * Oak Grove Cemetery, Fall River, MA. Borden family burial plot: http://friendsofoakgrovecemetery.org

  * Lizzie Borden’s dogs are buried at the Pine Ridge Pet Cemetery, Animal League of Boston, by the Dedham Animal Shelter, 55 Anna’s Place, Dedham, Mass. http://www.arlboston.org/pine-ridge-pet-cemetery

  TV Movies and Filmography

  * The Legend of Lizzie Borden (1975) Elizabeth Montgomery, TV movie. Re-released on DVD.

  * Lizzie Borden Had An Axe (2004) Discovery Channel forensic investigation.

  * Lizzie Borden Took An Axe (2014-15) Christina Ricci, Lifetime movie and mini-series.

  * Lizzie, Chloë Sevigny, Kristen Stewart (2018)

  Want Some Music To Read By?

  * Cry - Johnnie Ray (1952); David Cassidy (1990)

  * Just Playing With My Axe – Buddy Guy (1968)

  * Lizzie Borden – The Chad Mitchell Trio (1962)

  * Small Axe – Bob Marley & The Wailers (1973)

  * We Bury the Hatchet – Garth Brooks (1991)

  About the Author

  Christine (C.A.) Verstraete is an award-winning journalist who enjoys writing fiction with a bit of a “scare.”

  Her short stories have been published in anthologies and publications including, Descent into Darkness, Mystery Weekly, Sirens Call, Feast of the Dead: Hors D'Oeuvres; 100 Doors to Madness; and in Timeshares, Steampunk'd, and Hot & Steamy: Tales of S
teampunk Romance, DAW Books.

  Learn more at her website, www.cverstraete.com, and blog, http://girlzombieauthors.blogspot.com

  Works by C.A. Verstraete

  Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter

  Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter 2: The Axe Will Fall

  The Haunting of Dr. Bowen,

  A Mystery Set in Lizzie Borden’s Fall River

  Changes, A GIRL Z Prequel Story

  ~ * * * ~

  Bonus! Excerpt from,

  Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter 2:

  The Axe Will Fall!

  When her sister Emma becomes a pawn in the growing war against the undead, Lizzie’s only choice is to pick up her axe again. But can she overcome her personal demons and the rampaging monsters, no matter the cost?

  Chapter One

  “We pray thee that innocence may be revealed and guilt exposed…”

  —The Rev. M.C. Julien, opening prayer,

  Trial of Lizzie Borden, June 5, 1893

  Fall River, Massachusetts—October, 1893

  L

  izzie Borden sprang awake, startled by a sound she never expected, or wanted to hear again—a low, eerie keen that made her skin crawl and the long, straight hairs on her neck curl up into tight ringlets.

  “No, no!” She jumped out of bed and ran to the window, her heart pounding in fear. “Please, don’t let it be!”

  The chaotic scene on the street below filled her with disbelief and horror. No matter which direction she looked, she saw pure evil—groups of the undead she’d truly thought were gone forever. They’d been vanquished—or so she’d been told. Who had lied?

  Then she had another unexpected, but this time much more pleasant, shock—seeing her former self-defense instructor Pierre Moret. As the monsters shambled closer, he stood a moment as if in contemplation before closing the wrought iron gate. He waved for her to come down and disappeared out of view by the front door.

  Why is he here? Why now?

  The ghastly roars and growls outside quickly made her realize it didn’t matter. Her panic rising, Lizzie threw off her nightwear and slipped on one of the old pair of bloomers she’d worn in previous fights. For some reason, she’d kept the costume in her armoire, though she’d expected to never, ever, be doing this again.

  So much for that, she thought. Or had I really believed it was over?

  She shoved her feet into sturdy black shoes, her worry level rising higher than the smoke spewing from the stacks of the numerous textile plants down by the river. Were these new masses of undead? Or worse—had those who’d been infected and hidden away secretly at home by family members managed to escape?

  The questions dogged her as she ran down the polished oak staircase, a litany of muttered protests on her lips. “No, no, how can this be happening? Dearest Lord, how?”

  A pounding on the front door made her move faster. “Lizzie, hurry, please, let me in,” Pierre called.

  “Coming, I’m coming.”

  She twisted the shiny gold lock and pulled the heavy oak door open. Her nose wrinkled at the sudden stench of rot and death that fouled the air. Pierre rushed in, pushed the door shut, and turned to embrace her. To her surprise, it felt like she’d seen him only yesterday instead of months ago.

  “Pierre! I didn’t expect you.”

  “Obviously, though I’m glad to see you had your fighting dress at the ready.”

  The low moans from outside made further conversation impossible. She moved closer to the door and peered out the window, her heart pounding as she viewed the motley mob of ghouls clamoring at the gate. She counted eight, ten, fifteen of the decayed monsters and saw more approaching.

  The bastion of quiet she’d enjoyed in the past few months since moving to the more prestigious section known as “The Hill” had been replaced by bedlam. She watched a group of men run into the street swinging axes, garden tools, and almost anything they could get, at the approaching foes. She turned away and wrung her hands, not daring to look at Pierre when he gave a snort of disgust.

  “Why did you lead them here?” she asked. “Why? I don’t want to deal with it.”

  “You think I do? A thank you might be more in order since I wanted to make sure you were safe. Sorry to say, they’re up and down not only this street, but the whole area. We have no choice but to help.”

  “No, no, I-I can’t do it. I can’t.” She inhaled sharply when Pierre reached out and spun her around.

  He tucked his finger under her chin and raised her head. “Look at me. You can’t, or you won’t?”

  “No, I can’t.” She bit her lip and shook her head harder. “I can’t do it.”

  Her resistance faded as he pulled her near. She breathed in his masculine scent and the lingering musky, ambergris shaving lotion on his skin, wishing this was any other time, any other place.

  The horrific sounds of the undead made Lizzie’s skin crawl. Her first impulse, to let him and others take care of things, did battle with her innate sense of duty. She peered out the window again, relishing the satisfaction of seeing others out in the streets now, men with guns, women with garden tools. Even the neighbors who had turned their back on her were out doing their part to keep the monsters at bay.

  Let them handle it, she thought.

  Still, her feelings of obligation niggled at her. Yes, she’d trained for this. She had fought this fight before. She couldn’t let others do all the work for her.

  With a deep sigh, Lizzie pushed herself from Pierre’s embrace and regarded him. “I guess I have no choice about getting involved, do I? I have to do it, for Emma, if nothing else.”

  “Neither do I. I trained you. I’ll be right there with you and will help you any way I can. You know that. Should I ask how is your sister faring?”

  “The same, nothing has changed.”

  She went to the hall closet and took out a large leather satchel. It clanked with the sound of metal on metal. She sorted through the bag, pulling out a hatchet, a bat, and several small knives.

  “Have you been practicing? Keeping in condition?”

  She gave a small laugh. “Somewhat… Well, a little. I stopped going downstairs to practice or use the equipment since the noise bothers Emma too much. So, I do what I can up here. I’ve been doing my basic exercises and I practice my throwing out in the carriage house. It’s not ideal, but it’ll suffice.”

  “If only others had been as careful and prepared, we wouldn’t be in the mess we are again.”

  She snorted. “Possibly. Too many people kept their infected family members at home without sufficient preparations—”

  “Or really knowing what they were dealing with,” Pierre said.

  “Agreed. The awful cycle continues. I truly thought it had ended.”

  “Yes, so did I.”

  Pinning her hair into a tighter bun at the back of her head, Lizzie pulled the multi-pocketed apron she’d refashioned for her own use from the satchel and tied it around her waist. She slipped the knives and other tools into the pockets.

  Pierre gave her an appraising look. “Well done. I see you haven’t forgotten anything.”

  She took a deep breath and steeled herself. “Some things you never forget, ever, no matter how much you might wish it. Are you ready?”

  “When it comes to you, always.”

  A frown on her lips, Lizzie opened the door and rushed out, hatchet in hand. The picturesque street, lined with well-kept homes, now resembled a waking nightmare. Mobs of the monsters stumbled up and back on the road, and the sidewalks. Some strayed closer to the front walks, their rotted limbs gouged by misguided attempts to claw past iron spiked gates, or reach through long, spiky bushes. The frantic yells of people coming to the fight, weapons in hand, mixed with the bone-chilling laments of the creatures.

  Pierre lunged ahead. He stopped, whacked one creature in the head with his short sword, and ended another’s un-life with a fatal blow. The head rolled away, tracing a bloody path through the piles of dead leaves.

&nbs
p; Lizzie followed him through the gate, her grip tightening on the hatchet. UNHHH. ARGGH. The monstrous sounds made her think again of their earlier battle. She prayed this one would be shorter, and far less disastrous. The thought was enough to make her hesitate as the horrors of the past year came rushing back—her father’s gruesome face … her stepmother Abby’s monstrous stare … the terror and loneliness of being arrested … the shame and horror of standing trial for their murders.

  She shook herself out of the memory. The hatchet held high, she charged at the first monster that turned her way. The ghoul shuffled closer, mouth open in a fixed grimace, a hungry shriek on its half-decayed lips. She slammed the hatchet into the creature’s head, crushing the skull with a loud crack and a splatter of black goo. Its undead life gone, the ghoul fell at her feet in a grisly pile. A parade of insects skittered from the remains.

  —Continued in Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter 2

  Bonus! Excerpt from,

  The Haunting of Dr. Bowen