by Brandon Mull
Clouds muted the moon and blocked much of the starlight, leaving Rachel squinting at vague shapes approaching up the hillside. Farfalee and Kerick began loosing arrows, and some of the shapes staggered. Nedwin appeared beside Rachel. “We’re surrounded,” he hissed, a dagger in each hand. “Stay near me.”
Jason drew his sword. Tark stood at his side, a weighty knife in one hand, a torch in the other.
“Plan?” Drake asked.
“They’re on all sides,” Halco answered.
“We move as a group,” Farfalee said briskly. “Break through their ranks and try to outpace them.”
“Which way?” Ferrin asked.
“Hard to say,” Kerick responded, releasing another arrow. From multiple directions, infected corpses neared the perimeter of the firelight.
“That way,” Nedwin said firmly, extending an arm. “A bit steeper, but fewer enemies.”
A husky man with curly hair lumbered into the light, moving in an awkward jog and clutching a heavy stick. One of his eyes was rolled back, showing almost no iris, and he wore no shirt. A pair of arrows to the head dropped him.
Aram brandished his massive sword. “Follow me,” he boomed. “I’ll open a path.” Bearing a sword and a torch, Ferrin advanced beside the half giant in the direction Nedwin had indicated. The group formed up around Rachel, Corinne, and Jason, weapons ready, moving away from the campfire with hurried, shuffling paces. Vicious sweeps of Aram’s sword sent enemies sailing.
Glancing back, Rachel saw figures rushing forward from the far side of the campfire. Focusing on the logs, she uttered a command that sent them flying at the undead attackers amid a fiery spray of sparks and embers. The logs launched with terrific force, some of them shattering against bodies, and the assailants recoiled from the blaze with tucked heads and upraised hands.
The use of Edomic brought a euphoric rush utterly incongruent with the fear that had been squeezing Rachel’s heart. Suddenly she felt more alert and capable. The logs had taken flight with more force than she had expected, probably because the command had been energized by her panic.
“They don’t like fire,” Ferrin called, jabbing with his torch before slashing with his sword.
Aram clubbed a sinewy woman with the flat of his sword, the impact sending her into a clumsy cartwheel. Tark swung his torch to ward off an undead teen with a bony body. Kerick released more arrows.
“Faster!” Halco warned from the rear of the group. “They’re converging on us.”
Peeking over her shoulder, Rachel saw figures hurrying jerkily toward them from all sides of the hill, adjusting their pursuit with alarming coordination. The slope had become steep enough that Rachel was descending sideways with her knees bent, the soles of her moccasins sliding on the dirt.
“Run!” Farfalee ordered.
Aram bullied his way forward even faster, a human wrecking ball who left broken zombies cast aside like groaning heaps of litter. Rachel did not know what they would have done without him to lead the charge. She picked up the pace along with the rest of the group. By the faint moonlight and the unsteady glow of three torches, they raced down the slope, Aram slamming enemies aside with his sword, Ferrin and the others doing their best to cut down the leftovers. The incline helped Rachel reach such great speed that she doubted whether she could stop herself. If she fell, it would be painfully spectacular. Around her the others ran with similar haste, weapons glinting in the torchlight.
As the incline became less steep, Rachel regained some control of her strides. Nollin had tripped on the slope, but Halco had dragged him to his feet speedily enough that the pair of seedmen had not fallen too far behind the others. For the moment the delegation had outdistanced the zombies, although Rachel could hear them crashing recklessly down the hillside.
“What now?” Kerick asked, still running as he spoke.
“Some of us could stand our ground and slow them,” Tark offered.
“Too many of them,” Farfalee said. “They’d sweep by you. The sacrifice would be meaningless.”
“Split up?” Nedwin asked.
“That attack felt planned,” Farfalee said, breathing hard. “Sloppy, but with evidence of organization. A group massed around us and came from all sides. If we split up, I expect they will adapt.”
“We need to find a narrow place,” Kerick said. “A position where a few of us might detain them.”
“I saw nothing like that in the area,” Nedwin said. “But we need to veer left up here or we’ll get boxed in by some steep terrain.”
They continued at a sprint, Aram in the front, Halco in the rear, the torches shedding just enough light to allow them to dodge natural obstacles. Behind the group, Rachel could hear their bloodless enemies crashing through bushes and stumbling over rocks. With the delegation running at full speed, the zombies were gradually losing ground. Rachel doubted whether she could sustain this pace for more than a few minutes. She assumed the walking dead could keep charging all night.
“How many were there?” Nollin asked.
“At least forty,” Farfalee said.
“At least sixty,” Nedwin corrected.
“It will be minutes before they overtake us,” Kerick asserted. “Any defensible ground up ahead?”
“A little table of rock,” Nedwin said. “Maybe twenty feet above the surrounding land. One side is rather steep; the others are sheer. If we beat them there, they’d have to climb to reach us.”
“No escape?” Aram asked.
“We’d only go there to make a stand,” Nedwin said. “The inaccessibility makes it defendable. I don’t know of a better option.”
“Lead on,” Farfalee said.
“Agreed,” Drake approved. “If we’re caught in the open, we’re finished.”
“What if a pair of us head off on our own?” Nollin proposed, panting. “A small detachment might avoid detection.”
“It’s a gamble,” Ferrin said. “If the duo gets noticed, they’ll be defenseless. Who’d you have in mind?”
“Some key delegates,” Nollin said. “Perhaps myself and Aram.”
Rachel shook her head. Evidently Nollin had noticed the critical role Aram had played during the escape.
Ferrin laughed openly. “Aram, you’ve been promoted to essential!”
“I’m generally more appreciated at night,” the big man rumbled. “I’m going to the table, Nollin.”
“Maybe we should all remain together,” Nollin repented.
“How far?” Halco asked.
“Maybe five minutes,” Nedwin said. “Beyond this next rise the ground slopes down to a dry creek bed. The little ridge is on the far side.”
They were currently running up a gentle incline. By unspoken assent, nobody was moving at a true sprint anymore. Rachel’s lungs heaved with the effort to maintain her quick jog. She could clearly hear the worm zombies in pursuit. Aside from scattered moans and snarls, most made their presence known by disturbing rocks and foliage.
“They’re gaining,” Halco pointed out.
Farfalee increased her pace, and Rachel strained to match it. A stitch burned in her side, and the muscles in her legs protested painfully.
“Some of them are faster than others,” Nedwin observed. “We’re spreading them out. Many are quite slow.”
They topped the rise and the slope tilted downward. Having the incline back in her favor helped Rachel find her second wind. “Watch out,” Aram called from the front. “Thorns!”
Rachel saw the half giant plowing through bushes that reached higher than his waist, which meant they came to her shoulders. Jason ran just ahead of her, and she could see thorny shrubs tearing at his robes as he charged between them. She tried to follow the path he was clearing, but many of the slender limbs whipped back into place after he ripped free. Her robe snagged in dozens of places. Rachel kept her weary legs churning despite the sharp prickers shredding the fabric of her robes and occasionally her skin.
Suppressed expressions of pain surrounded h
er, aggravated hisses seasoned with some angry growls and a wounded yelp from Corinne. Aram was trying to whack the irritating vegetation with his sword, but without accomplishing much. There were just too many shrubs with too many wiry little limbs.
“Forward!” Farfalee ordered as their pace flagged.
Rachel pressed ahead, twisting and lunging in an attempt to avoid the thickest tangles. Sharp points raked scratches across much of her body. Occasionally the thorns stabbed deep, forcing her to swallow exclamations of pain. Under the light of day, the group would have doubtlessly looped around these briars, but in the dark, pursued by undead enemies, their only choice was to push agonizingly onward.
At last Rachel tore free from the last of the taller shrubs. Off to one side, she saw Nedwin towing Corinne from a thorny embrace. Rachel realized that she, Nedwin, Halco, and Corinne were now trailing the others in the group by a significant margin. Several paces ahead, Jason and Tark skidded to a halt, looking back. Close behind her, Rachel heard reckless pursuers blundering through the prickly shrubs.
With countless prickers still clinging to her robes and needling her skin, Rachel picked up her pace again. “Go!” she shrieked at Jason.
Corinne and Nedwin raced beside her. Halco followed a step or two behind. A hasty glance back showed Rachel the first of the zombies emerging from the spiny shrubs, threadbare clothes mangled. No matter how tired she felt, the frightening sight was sufficient to spur Rachel to her fastest sprint.
Thirty yards ahead, Aram and Ferrin reached the dry creek, dropping down to the rocky bed. The moon emerged from the clouds, unveiling the stone butte on the far side of the creek, vertical walls with a flat top.
Ahead of Rachel, Jason leaped into the creek bed. The lip of the creek was maybe five feet higher than the bed. When Rachel reached the brink, she slowed a bit and used her hands to help break her fall. Rocks ranging in size from apples to melons littered the floor of the creek, making footing treacherous. But with the worm zombies at her heels, there was no time for caution.
Rachel dashed across the creek bed, a pair of steps behind Corinne and Nedwin, six steps behind Jason. Halco ran at her side, his torch casting a wavering radiance around them. She could hear enemies landing on the stones behind them.
Then a rock shifted beneath Rachel’s foot just as she trusted all of her weight to it. She fell hard, unforgiving stones pounding against her, one wrist screaming in pain after she had extended her hands to catch herself.
She was dead. The cold certainty hit her with inarguable clarity. Her injuries meant nothing. She would have no time to really feel them. Her undead enemies were right behind her. Rachel rolled over to her back in time to see the nearest zombie pouncing, grimy hands extended. He had long arms. Dark eyes. Ragged fingernails. A receding hairline.
Reflexively, Rachel raised a protective hand and shouted the Edomic command to push him away. The zombie went flying backward, like he had been hit by an invisible train. His body clipped a couple other undead assailants before he smashed against the low wall of the creek.
Invigorated by the successful command, Rachel beheld the scene with greater lucidity. More enemies were flooding toward her. There were already eight in the creek bed. A dozen more between the creek and the thorny shrubs. Dozens more crashing through the briars.
Halco was using torch and sword to engage a husky man clad in pelts. The combat drew the interest of a few of the nearest attackers. Nedwin and Jason crouched beside Rachel, having returned to help her to her feet. Drake dashed to assist Halco, sword flashing in the torchlight. Knife in hand, Tark placed himself between Rachel and the oncoming zombies.
The zombies were dead, Rachel realized. The worms inside might be alive, but apparently if she focused on the dead flesh, she could use Edomic!
As a desiccated middle-aged woman rushed Tark, Rachel focused on the upper half of her body and spoke the command to gather heat, pouring her panic-fueled will into the effort. The woman burst into flames, and Rachel spoke a fresh command that shoved her backward. Other zombies stumbled away from the blazing woman, eyes squinting away from the brightness. The woman collapsed to the ground, screeching and thrashing.
Halco and Drake had each incapacitated a pair of zombies. Currently a small elderly zombie dangled from Halco’s arm, biting his hand. Halco fell as Drake hacked at the undersized attacker. The successful commands coupled with the horrible danger left Rachel feeling abnormally alert. As more zombies charged Drake and Halco, Rachel infused the nearest pair with fire from the waist up and shoved them toward the others.
The effort left her knees weak. While her spirit exulted, her body suddenly felt drained. From her hours of practice, Rachel knew that she was making too many ambitious commands in succession without resting. She could not keep it up much longer.
Each with an arm around her torso, Nedwin and Jason hauled Rachel across the creek bed, her arms draped across their necks, her wrist aching. She tried to help, but her legs felt limp and distant.
Farther back, Drake helped Halco retreat while a fresh wave of zombies dashed forward. “Just the heads,” Rachel murmured, looking over her shoulder.
Exerting her will, she began setting the heads of the attackers on fire, one after another, working from the nearest to the farthest. The smaller targets required less effort than igniting the entire upper body, and the result seemed equally effective, leaving the victims writhing in the creek bed. After igniting the fifth head, Rachel felt blackness encroaching at the edge of her vision, and paused. She had a metallic taste in her mouth. Her head pounded.
Flaming bodies lay strewn between the zombies and their prey. The nearest zombies hesitated, baring their teeth to hiss at the fire.
“It got me,” Halco huffed to Drake, who had a supportive arm across his shoulders. “I saw worms enter my wrist. Take my amar.”
Sheathing his sword, Drake drew a dagger in one hand and cupped the other against the base of Halco’s skull, where his seed was located. Rachel glanced away as the dagger moved, but looked back in time to see Drake placing the amar in a pouch as Halco slumped to the stony ground.
Nedwin and Jason dragged Rachel up the far side of the creek bed as the undead attackers rallied, weaving between the burning corpses. The foremost zombies descended on Halco in a frenzy.
Without Halco slowing him, Drake caught up as Rachel, Tark, Nedwin, and Jason reached the base of the rocky butte. The others were already scaling it. The least steep side was still quite a climb, only leaning slightly away from vertical, although it offered abundant handholds.
“Can you manage?” Nedwin asked.
“No strength,” Rachel said. She doubted she could walk, let alone scale a steep wall. “Bad wrist.”
Aram landed beside Rachel after having dropped the last several feet of the descent. He heaved her over one beefy shoulder, as if she weighed nothing. The others were climbing. Aram started up as well.
Rachel found herself facing an onrushing mob of tattered men and women, old and young, grotesquely eager. Aram was rising, but the mob would reach the butte in time to claw at his boots, perhaps to climb after him and tear him down. She felt angry. These bloodthirsty creatures had attacked without provocation. They had killed Halco. They yearned to kill all of her friends.
Extending a hand, lips moving soundlessly, she focused heat on several in the front, then mentally pushed with all of her might, hurling her will at them with the psychic equivalent of a lunging dive at the end of a hard run. She dimly saw the flames engulfing them and felt the warm rush of heat as she sank into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER 23
THE SENTINELS
Jason peered down from the brink of the huge stone block as Aram climbed below him. He flinched back as the leaders of the oncoming zombies burst into flames, a few of them from head to toe, others along one side, or just the head and shoulders. Several zombies stampeded into their burning comrades, flames spreading as they tumbled to the ground at the base of the butte. Dry wails fill
ed the night. The nearest unburned zombies fell back, snarling impotently.
Apparently Rachel had been eating her Wheaties! Jason knew she had been practicing her Edomic, but had no idea that she had grown so powerful. She had saved them back at the creek bed. Thanks to her, around twenty zombies must have perished.
As Aram reached the top of the butte, the zombies below resurged, dodging around disgusting bonfires to start climbing the little mesa. Drake, Ferrin, Tark, Nedwin, Nollin, and Corinne began hurling rocks gathered from the top of the butte down the side. Jason joined in, discovering that solid throws to the head sent the hideous climbers tumbling.
Aram gently laid Rachel on her back and bent over her. As Jason saw the barrage of stones successfully repelling the climbing zombies, he hurried to her side. She was breathing shallowly, her face pale.
“Wiped herself out,” Aram said.
“She wields serious power,” Farfalee acknowledged. “If she’s breathing, she’ll recover. Aram, we need you guarding the edge.”
Kerick approached Farfalee. “I see three of the dead standing aloof on the far side of the creek,” he reported quietly.
“The masterminds?” Farfalee asked.
“They’re the only enemies showing restraint,” Kerick said. “I suspect they’re coordinating the others.”
Jason gazed where Kerick had indicated, and saw the zombies he had mentioned. They stood side-by-side on a mound well back from the creek, still and silent, one quite tall and the other two rather short.
Farfalee set an arrow to the string and bent her bow. Jason wondered if an arrow could reach that far. She tilted the bow upward and released. The projectile curved away into the night, and landed in the head of the tallest zombie. He fell out of sight and the other two hid as well.
