The Rising Ash Saga | Book 2 | Falling Embers

by Westerman, R. G.

  She whinnies, frightened and lonely. Her sadness pours into me. I let go, stepping away. She trots away from the camp, heading toward the wild horses, circling back and pawing at the ground.

  I sit down at the edge of the ravine, letting my feet swing beneath me. The creatures wander, bumping into each other, mindless, still continuing to ignore one another.

  I find Penny out there in the middle. Is she different, I wonder? What makes her seek me out the way she does? Is she still in there the way Mare seems to be? Could it be that some kind of conscience remains buried inside her? The thought makes me queasy.

  I stand up and brush my hands across my legs. It’s time to find the doctor. I need answers.

  I pick up my belongings, covering the campfire with dirt, scattering the remaining ashes. Just as I finish up, Mare returns. The holes in her coat have expanded, large patches of flesh falling away around her legs. I see glimpses of pale bones between tattered muscles. I wonder how much time she has before I can’t ride her anymore, before she falls apart.

  “Do you want to come along, Mare?” I murmur.

  Carefully, I roll my backpack across her shoulders as usual, but she arches her back, tossing it off onto the ground.

  “Not up for it, right now. I see. That’s alright, then. It’s probably better I do this one on my own.” Her muzzle against my palm feels cold and wrinkled, like a rotten peach.

  I wonder if I will see her again, after I leave this time. Reaching up, I unclasp the bridle, opting to let her roam as she sees fit. She deserves to finish out her days as she chooses, if this can even be considered a life.

  As I reach up my hand brushes against the area beneath her ear. I feel a hard ridge of flesh along the edge of her jawbone.

  “What’s this?”

  She lets me examine the area. It appears scarred over in such a way that I think it must have happened before she turned.

  The fur had long since fallen out, leaving an exposed patch. I press my fingertips along the edge of the bone, discovering a small knot just underneath her skin.

  “What is this?” I say again.

  Taking out my knife, I slide it along the flesh beneath the scar, knowing this will not hurt her. She does not flinch as I perform the impromptu surgery.

  Just as I suspected, an implant of some kind reveals itself beneath her skin. I pull it out without much trouble, covered in greenish black ichor, a metallic disk about the size of the pad of my thumb.

  “Wait,” I mutter. I rub the item across the ground, in an attempt to clear it of the viscous liquid. I reach into my backpack, fingers searching the small outer pocket until I touch upon the item, the disc I had pulled from the zombie. They are nearly identical.

  “Oh, my god…” I whisper. “What has she done to you?” I feel the change in her energy with my hand against her muzzle. She feels… calm, less afraid. I, on the other hand, feel disjointed, as if I have a box of puzzle pieces I can’t figure out how to put together.

  I pull my pack over one shoulder and hitch my crossbow snug against the small of my back. I double check my knife belt and water supply.

  It is time to go.

  I bid her a final farewell, placing my forehead against hers, hoping perhaps to feel some of the peace she now possesses.

  “Take care of yourself,” I whisper. “Go now. Go be a horse for a little while longer.”

  I turn and head toward the road. The landscape looks familiar within minutes. The last time I traveled this way, we were all still here. Thorn, Rose, Alma, Travis… I remember how much we had wanted to stay away from the zombies, to keep out of their way.

  Once upon a time, we called them the enemy. Today, by some twist of fate, they had become my ally.

  I don’t see any zombies as I go. Perhaps they all had been corralled into the ravine where I’d left them. In the distance, I finally see the compound against the horizon.

  Time to press on, I decide. Another few hours, at most. I’ve got plenty of daylight. Best to get this over with.I continue forward, keeping the building in sight.

  Twelve

  Getting inside the compound could prove to be a bit of a challenge, as the last time I did so I was unconscious. I take the only path I know, around the edge of the horse field, making my way toward the stables.

  I had not recognized the space due to the angle, but once I pass by the stable yard, I see the break in the wall, now an empty chasm leading straight into the compound.

  Now the easiest way in, this place used to be teeming with zombies. Donovan called it the moat, a strip of land fenced and filled with zombies to keep out the danger, and to keep everyone else inside.

  I make no effort to remain stealthy as I climb over the broken concrete. Pieces shift and tumble, but I make my way over and into the hallway.

  Immediately, I find myself faced with a clutch of five zombies, scattered across the hallway. The sounds of my actions drew their attention, skeletal cheeks and sunken eyes peering as they turn towards me.

  “Of course,” I mutter, reaching for my knife. “What’s a family reunion without a handful of zombies?”

  The one closest to me, once upon a time a middle-aged woman with long brown hair, runs towards me in quick herky-jerky steps. Fast, like the others, teeth gnashing without purpose.

  My blade lands in the side of her neck, sending a tendril of gelatinous blood spewing across my arm. She collapses once I draw the blade through her neck and across her brain stem.

  “Sorry, sister,” I say to her fallen corpse. “You were in my way.”

  The next one comes at me straight on. The very fact they are attacking me confirms she is controlling them somehow.

  The knife handle slips in my hand, covered in viscous blood. I lose purchase for a moment, holding him back with my forearm against his collar bone.

  His rotted face is inches from mine, snapping into the air. I turn away, grimacing against the odor of decay blooming from his mouth.

  Another comes in behind me, arms grasping me with surprising strength. I stretch my other arm behind me, knife still in hand but slipping against my fingers every time I try to get a decent grip on it.

  Turning by body I manage to keep them each at arm’s length, one hand pressed on each of their bony chests. There is only one way out.

  I drop to my knees and scurry out from between their legs, turning onto my backside and scooting as far as I can down the narrow hallway. The two of them fall into a tangled mass, unable to follow my trajectory.

  I flip my crossbow around and fire off one bolt, piercing both of their heads.

  “Not bad,” I mutter. “Three down. Two to go.”

  But the remaining two don’t attack. By some unseen signal, they stand at attention.

  My head aches. My desire to find Donovan increases to a fever pitch. I lean against the stock of the crossbow, pulling myself to my feet.

  “Where are you!” I call out, my voice cracking.

  “Now, now. There’s no reason to shout, Ashley.” Her voice echoes from the com speakers embedded into the walls. “You’ve done so well. It’s so good to see you.”

  So, she can see me. Okay, that’s good to know. But where is she, hidden away in the depths of her castle?

  I remember the evening announcement for curfew during my time here before, emanating from these same speakers set all over the campus. This compound had teemed with life then, families, children. Now the empty hallway stretched before me like a cavernous tomb.

  “Keep walking,” she says. “I’ll guide you.”

  “Are you sure you want me to be in the same room with you?” I call back, my voice echoing against the metallic walls.

  “Just follow my instructions for now. We’ll have to save the conversation for when we are face to face. Something I greatly look forward to. I only hope you feel the same.” Her disembodied voice sounds strange through the com system, somehow even more sinister than I remember.

  “I can assure you, I don’t,” I mutter under
my breath.

  “Keep walking forward to the end of the hall,” she says. “Don’t worry. The creatures won’t bother you anymore. Once you get to the end, turn left. There you’ll find a door leading to the stairs. I would take you to the elevators, but unfortunately, they stopped working when the compound switched to auxiliary power. A necessary safety measure should there be a breech.”

  I did my best to ignore the hidden meaning, the twist in her voice as she spoke these words. The breech, of course, meaning the time I drove a truck through the library wall for the dual purpose of getting everyone out, and allowing in the immeasurable number of flesh-eating zombies swarming the outer walls of the compound.

  She leads me up two flights of stairs to another door and into another hallway. Each time I pass through one, I stop and take the time to pull them shut behind me, minimizing the sound of the door closing. Old habits die hard, I guess.

  Finally, I arrive at one of the doors at the end of the hallway. I recognize the position of the building, that this room sits at the edge of the compound.

  The balcony where I had seen her would no doubt be connected on the other side. With a steady hand, I reach forward, turning the handle and opening the door.

  “Hello, my prodigal child,” she says as she turns toward me. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  “Doctor,” I reply.

  She lights up, clapping her hands in some apparent delight. At what, I don’t know. Her eyes flash with a wildness, her hair unkempt around her face. “Come and see. Let me show you, what you and I have done.”

  You and I?

  She places one hand over a large dial, turning and adjusting, while her other hand flies over the number pad, punching in some unknown code. The panel lights up, flashing in a sequence.

  I step forward enough to bring the horde below us into view. Just as they had done in the ravine, they lined up, triggered by some signal, shoulder to shoulder, at attention, with upturned, ghoulish faces, rows of sentries awaiting their orders.

  Orders from her.

  “You… You’ve created an army of them.”

  “Yes, I have. Aren’t they beautiful…?”

  “But what are you going to do with them?” I say with growing trepidation.

  “No, dear. What are we going to do with them.”

  “It doesn’t have to be this way,” I say in a desperate attempt to reach her.

  “Yes, Ash. It does.”

  “Come back with me,” I say. “Come back with me to SeaHaven. You’ll see, there are people there, a community. We can start over. You don’t have to do this.”

  “Oh, Ash,” she says, her face resting into that simpering falsity of niceness. “It’s too late for that. I had truly hoped you would join me willingly.”

  “Why would I do that?” I ask.

  “Child, you’ve lived so long in this cruel world, growing up without a mother’s love. It’s not too late, you know.”

  “You’re not my mother, and anything you gave me was nothing like a mother’s love. You killed my mother!”

  “If we had known of her state when she came to us. Putting you in danger like that.”

  “You would have done it anyway! You wouldn’t have changed a thing! Infecting her the way you did… It’s your fault I’m like this! Not hers!”

  She responds with a disappointing shake of her head, reaching over to the console. Immediately, I fall to the ground, an invisible pressure rendering me incapacitated. I clasp at my head, fingers digging into my skull.

  “You know,” she says, “if you give in, it won’t hurt so much.”

  “I’ll never give in…”

  “If you just listen, darling girl. Just stop and listen to what it is that you want, what you truly want, then you’ll begin to understand.”

  I pull myself into a ball, cringing against the pain, clutching my arms around my knees. What I want is for the pain to end.

  I barely focus on her nonsensical stream of words. Somewhere in the back of my mind, tumblers turn, the smallest whisper of an answer, but I cannot grasp its meaning.

  Another moment, and it is gone.

  “What do you want from me?” I say in a voice heavy with pain.

  She leans down next to me. “It is not what I want from you, Ash. It is what you want.”

  “And what is it, exactly, that I want?”

  “Your whole life you have denied yourself one thing. The part of you that you are most ashamed of, which you have kept hidden, even from yourself. The part of you which is like them. You have kept it hidden for so long. You want to let it go, let that part of yourself free. You want nothing more than to be who you truly are, Ash.”

  “I can’t,” I reply. “I won’t. I don’t want to be a monster.”

  “No, of course not my darling!” she purrs. “Not a monster at all. You are my own beautiful child, the first of many. And now you are home, and we can make this all right again.”

  “No…”

  “Let me ask you a question, Ash.”

  “Please, just make it stop…”

  She stands, moving toward the console once more. “Did you find it difficult to make your way back here?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The journey here to the compound, was it particularly difficult?”

  “Why do you…”

  “Did you come here because you chose to?”

  “Of course I did. Why else would I…” All of a sudden, the tumblers fall into place. I did not come here of my own accord. She drew me in, just as she had the others.

  “Don’t you see?” she says. “I’ve done all of this to find you. You are the key to making this work. I created the frequency for you. All the rest was just a happy accident.”

  “But I won’t do it,” I reply between clenched teeth. “I won’t do what you want me to do.”

  She smiled, simpering. “Such a sweet girl. You see, when you left us this last time, I felt as if I had lost you all over again, just like when you were a child. I knew I had to find a way to make you come back to me. Luckily, one of my most loyal scientists helped me find a way.”

  “I came here to end this!”

  “No.” She reaches over to the console, placing one trembling finger on the dial. With just a touch, the sensation in my head rises another level, pressure throbbing through my ears. “You came here because I called you. You and I, mother and daughter, side by side, we can rebuild this world. A world which I have created and you will inherit. A new humanity. Better, stronger. Don’t you see?”

  “You’ve gone mad,” I whisper.

  She turns the dial another notch. The pain consumes me, knocking me to my knees, coursing through me. Fire. Thunder. My head squeezed from all sides.

  I find myself unable to cry out against it. Nothing more than a whimper escapes my lips.

  “I want you to know, I take no joy in seeing you like this,” she says. “But it is a vital part of your purpose, Ash. This is a good pain, like childbirth.”

  “What?” I manage to croak.

  “The pain will subside after a few moments. Come. Let’s get you to your room. You’ve been through a lot today. We’ll start again tomorrow. In the meantime, you need your rest.”

  She takes my arm, steadying me to my feet and guiding me forward. Begrudgingly, I lean against her, not quite trusting my feet.

  We walk along the hallway leading toward my room, still fully intact, just as I had left it. The pink bedding and pastel shelves, loaded with ridiculous toys.

  This is all too much. I cannot fight her. The pain in my head feels far too great.

  She leads me through the door, guiding me to lie down on the bed before undressing me with clinical care. The sheets feel cool against my fatigued body as she pulls them up to my shoulders. I hear her move about the room, and then, a moment later, she places a hot dry cloth over my closed eyes and forehead. The sensation immediately offers relief to my aching head.

  “Good night, Ashley,” she
whispers, placing the back of her fingers gently against my cheek. “Rest now. I’ll come and fetch you in the morning. I’m sure you’ll be hungry from the activation.”

  I hate her. I can’t move my arms or legs, and my body sinks into the coolness of the sheets. I hate that she has somehow gained the upper hand.

  Swimming with confusion, my mind gives up. The lights dim and she leaves the room, pausing for only a moment before pulling the door shut behind her.

  Thirteen

  The next morning, I find my head feels much better. I can’t say as much for my mood.

  I recall a dream of SeaHaven, of hot food and laughter. Penny was there, her weird, rotten self, just standing there the way she always does, staring at me. She lifts her hands, reaching for me.

  Everyone around us appears oblivious to her presence. The dream drifted away to the view of the sunlight sparkling through the window.

  Managing to get up on my feet, I cross the room, trying the door. To my surprise it opens. How far can I get before she tries to stop me, I wonder?

  Grabbing my pack and crossbow, I make my way down the hallway with every intention of just leaving. She can’t make me stay.

  I don’t see Dr. Donovan anywhere and I don’t go looking for her. Perhaps she is watching me from some room deep in the compound, watching me run from one screen to the other. No matter. The doctor is the least of my concerns.

  I see no one until I reach the fence outside, running alongside the now vacant paddock. I spot the farmhand at the far side, absently pushing a wheelbarrow.

  If he looked up, he would see me, plain as day. Only about ten feet separates me from the coverage of the forest. I could make a run for it, but I’d risk discovery.

  Crouching below the edge of the rock wall, my mind twists at how to escape. It’s so close. Glancing back, I see the man disappear behind the barn doors.

  I spring forward, sprinting for the tree line. Within minutes, I slip into the shadows, only pausing long enough to glance back.

  At the corner of the barn, the farmhand stands, looking directly toward where I had just been hiding. I steel myself for the inevitable call of warning, but it never comes. He just stands there, perfectly still, a bemused, nearly satisfied look on his face.