Revenant

by Catrina Burgess

  “Is this the girl?” he said, clapping his hands in excitement.

  “It is,” Caleb answered.

  The man turned to me. “I can’t wait to see what you can do. I’ve heard so much about you.” His fingers reached out and caressed my shoulder. I forced myself not to shrink back from his touch. “You’re such a small thing. I thought you would be taller.” He turned to his companion, a dark-haired man with so many wrinkles across his face that he resembled a Shar-Pei. “Didn’t I tell you I thought she would be tall?”

  When the dark-haired man kept silent, the short one continued. “A seven-foot Amazonian woman by the way Gage has been talking about you.” He squeezed my shoulder. “And what a location you have here. Beautiful spot, and an ample amount of spirits to work with—I can almost feel them. Quite convenient to be working on an old battlefield, isn’t it?” He chuckled.

  The desire to move away from him was so strong I could taste it, but I forced myself to stand still. I could tell by the look on Caleb’s face that he was enjoying my discomfort.

  The man let go of me and gave me a sly grin. “Gage is impressed with your power. He’s not an easy man to impress. I can’t wait to see you in action. You’re going to do it now? I didn’t miss anything, did I? You’re going to start making zombies?”

  Caleb answered him when I didn’t. “Yes, she is. You didn’t miss anything. She’s going to start right this minute.”

  The short man clapped his hands again. “Most excellent!” He turned and walked toward the bodies.

  I stayed rooted in place. I didn’t move until Caleb gave me another hard shove. “Don't worry, sweetheart—your little boyfriend will be just fine. He’s tucked away in a cozy cell, safely out of range. Now get to it.”

  With each step, I felt nausea rising up from my belly. Then the wind shifted and the smell hit me straight on. The dead were rotting, and the stench of it filled the air. This time I couldn’t keep the bile from coming. I stopped and emptied what little I had in my stomach.

  Caleb stood by, stone faced, but I watched the muscles of his jaw clench and his nose twitch. He had to be affected by the smell. It was so strong. It filled my nostrils and spilled down my throat. I knew that even after I went back to my cell, the smell would cling to my skin, hair, and clothes. I vomited again, but it was only dry heaves this time—there was nothing left to come up. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and started forward.

  There were imprints in the grass under my feet. Places where dead bodies had once lain—bodies I had raised on previous nights. Bodies that had been whisked away as soon as I had filled them with spirits.

  The short man stood a few feet away. He took out a piece of cloth and covered his nose and mouth with it.

  I moved until I came upon one of the dead. I looked down the line of bodies. Every time I saw them I felt the same—disgusted and ashamed. I forced back those feelings and filled my mind with images of Luke. For a second, I imagined he was here with me, his arms around my waist. I have to do this or Gage will kill Luke. I opened my eyes, steeled my mind, and braced myself for what would come next. I knelt down in the dirt and reached out to the closest corpse. Her skin was starting to peel away from the bone. It hung in chunks from her arm, exposing yellow muscle and white tendons. I swallowed hard to force down the hot bile that tried to rise and brought my hands forward again with sheer will. They touched the slimy, cold surface of her skin.

  There was a bright flash of orange, and the air was sucked out of my lungs. My body rocked back, and a strong jolt of electricity rushed through me. For a moment, my mind went blank and there was only darkness before me. Then my vision cleared and air flowed back into my lungs. My heart pounded in my chest as if I’d been running. I leaned back and watched as the woman very slowly began to rise.

  There was a loud shout of excitement. The short man was clapping in perverse delight.

  Each time it was the same. Each time I felt the energy drain from my limbs as I forced an unsuspecting nearby spirit into the body on the ground. But even though I knew what to expect, I never got used to watching them rise. I would shudder as their eyes rolled back into their heads. Their limbs moved in jerky, uncoordinated motions at first, and then they would turn to me like a moth to a light. Whatever awareness they possessed seemed to direct them to seek me out. This one was just the same. I shouted out the Latin words Gage taught me that would bind her will to me, and then gave her a mental call to stay put, to stand still. A man clad all in black would come guide the zombie off the field. To where, I had no idea. I wondered yet again, What is Gage doing with the undead once I raise them?

  I used my magic again and again. I raised one dead after another. And when I thought I could no longer go on, I stood on shaky legs and looked down at the bodies before me. The faces bore no resemblance to the souls that I’d forced inside. An angelic-looking young woman almost untouched by rot turned and looked at me with old, angry eyes full of malice once I’d woken her. I hugged my tattered clothes around myself and shivered. But even worse than those faces filled with anger were those who looked at me with fear or hope in their eyes. They were my victims twice over: once for the body, and once for the tortured and bound soul.

  I’d often thought about using my magic to make the dead help me escape—I controlled them, I could send them off to fight against Gage’s people. I’d done it once already, back when I faced Macaven and his men.

  But every time I toyed with the idea of fighting back, the image of Luke in chains flashed through my mind. I had never seen Luke unguarded. If I tried to use my magic, even if I were out of range of the collar, how far would I get before Caleb or Gage brought me down? Caleb made it clear that if I misbehaved—if I tried to use my magic for any purpose outside of helping Gage with his projects—Luke would be hurt.

  But it really wasn’t just Luke who would suffer—Dean shared his body, so he would be hurt, too, and Wendy could also be harmed. If I didn’t do as Gage said, all my friends could be hurt or killed. I had to follow Gage’s wishes.

  A feeling of overwhelming despair and helplessness filled me. I was Gage’s prisoner. How long until that would change? How long until we could escape?

  The short, fat man was beside me all of a sudden. “This is so exciting! I never imagined such magic. You truly are a wonder.” His hand came up and touched my arm. “Why did you stop? Gage told me the exhibition would last at least an hour.” He turned to Caleb. “Isn’t she going to raise any more?”

  Caleb’s eyes narrowed. I knew he expected me to keep working. So I did. Again and again, I forced myself to touch each body. I did it until exhaustion set in and I could no longer stand. I slumped down, weak and shaking, onto the cold grass. As I fell, my mind began to slip into darkness. A great sense of relief filled me as fatigue swept me away…far, far away from this horrible madness.

  * * *

  I found myself on the edge of the now-familiar dark abyss. But unlike the times I’d been there before, there were no voices calling out my name. No unearthly snarls and sounds came from the darkness. It was eerily calm. This isn’t real…this is just a dream.

  I looked down instinctively, to where I could see the mark of a bear in the flesh of my forearm. In the fight with Weatherton, the serial killer at the asylum, the old gods had bestowed this gift onto me. The symbol meant that a spirit pack stood ready and willing to defend me. But I couldn’t bring them forth. I had to keep them back. If I let them loose, Luke would die. Gage was not the type of man to make idle threats. He was a proven killer. He’d slaughtered three hundred innocent people.

  I could not fight him with my magic, even magic granted by the old gods. I could only serve his dark purpose.

  A woman’s voice whispered next to me, “Find the light.”

  I whipped around. “Mama.” My voice broke as I said her name. She was standing right next to me, on the edge of the abyss, as healthy and warm as she’d looked when she was alive. She seemed to glow from the inside out.

&nbs
p; “You are a healer, Colina. There is still light within you. A small spark of it still lives. Fight against the darkness. Remember who you are.”

  She held out her hand to me, but before I could reach for it, she slowly disappeared.

  My heart sank. My mother was dead, and this was only a dream. There is no light still inside me. Darkness coursed through my veins, beat in my heart, and pounded through my brain. The darkness filled me to the brim. Whoever I was before, that girl—that healer—was dead. Now I was nothing but a harbinger of death.

  Suddenly, I felt evil radiating out of the darkness around me and tried to calm my pounding heart. This is not real, I told myself again. This is a nightmare. But it felt real. The fear felt real.

  Something grabbed me and I looked down, stumbling back. There were fingers wrapped around my ankle—white, wrinkled fingers that came out of the darkness and tore into my flesh. With the contact came a burning pain that radiated up my leg. And then there was another hand on me. Long fingernails raked against the flesh of my calf. More hands appeared. Rotting fingers with long nails reached out from the blackness and grabbed at me. One, two, a dozen. All reaching for me. Searing pain flowed through my body. I felt myself being pulled down. “No, no!” There was nothing to hold on to, no way to stop myself from falling over the edge and into the abyss. Down I went—falling, spiraling into the darkness.

  The pain consumed me like a fire that burned from within. My limbs twisted in agony as I fell. And then the hands disappeared, and I was lying on a rocky floor. There was nothing before me but blackness. Within the blackness, a face appeared. Then another. Ghostly images began popping out. A shock ran through me as I recognized one of the faces. I’d seen it just the other night, lying on the grass in the field. They’re the undead I’ve brought back to life. The zombies moved around me, circling. They reached out to me. Seeking what? I wasn’t sure. They kept moving forward. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to go. I could feel their cold fingers against my skin, pulling at me, tearing at me.

  * * *

  And then I woke, gasping and sweating on the dirt floor in my prison cell. I assumed Caleb carried me back each night after I collapsed into unconsciousness. Each night I tumbled into a fitful sleep, encumbered by fleeting dreams until I woke, greeted once again with the harsh reality of my captivity. But this time I remembered clearly what I had dreamed. I thought back to my nightmare. Or was it a vision? I didn’t know, and I had too little energy to figure it out now. I was so hungry, so thirsty, so tired all the time. My mind was having a hard time focusing on the here and now.

  Luke. I breathed in his name. I felt the wild pounding of my heart slow as I visualized his face in front of me. The face of the boy I had met in the magic shop. It was the way I always thought of him whenever I was alone. That blond hair, those dark eyes. Eyes that burned with passion as he looked at me. Luke. He’s still alive, he’s still here. That’s all that matters. I forced myself to sit up. There was dirt on my pants and mud smeared across my hands and arms, but I was so used to being dirty now that I didn’t even try and wipe it away. I put my back against the cavern wall.

  How many more dead lay out in that field? How many had I raised? Seventy? A hundred? I could see their rotting flesh when I closed my eyes. I could smell, even now, the putrid scent of them on me. I would never be able to rid myself of that smell.

  When I felt eyes crawling over my skin, I realized I wasn’t alone. My head jerked around and I spotted Caleb leaning against the bars. He was watching me. He was so silent, so still, that for a moment I wondered if I were hallucinating. We stared at each other. There was the hatred again, blazing from his eyes. What had I done to bring up such strong emotions in him? I’d never met him, never even seen him before. But he looked at me as though we were mortal enemies.

  I gave him a wary look and finally broke the silence between us. “Is it time again?”

  As suddenly as it appeared, the anger disappeared, replaced with indifference. But I knew the indifference was an act. “The big man wants to see you.”

  That was Caleb’s nickname for Gage. A wave of cold horror washed over me. I had only seen Gage a handful of times since I’d been here. Each time I felt like a snake charmer standing before a deadly cobra posed to strike. Gage had never laid a hand on me—he did something far worse when I misbehaved. Anytime I didn’t follow his direction, he set Caleb and Jacob on Luke.

  The guilt I felt when I saw the aftermath of that first beating consumed me…and I began to do whatever Gage said. But it didn’t take full rebellion to set Gage off. There had been other beatings, ones I had caused inadvertently by saying or doing the wrong thing. Keeping my mouth shut and doing whatever Gage said to do was the only way to keep Luke safe.

  Gage also seemed to take great pleasure in starving me. I hadn’t realized how hungry you could get without food for a few days.

  And now he wanted to see me. My fingers were trembling. I forced them together and took a deep breath. I pushed myself up and waited for Caleb to unlock the iron bars.

  I followed Caleb down the tunnels, losing track of the twists and turns we took, but my head came up when we entered a large cavern. A chandelier hung down from the ceiling, this one lit with two dozen black candles.

  Lavish furniture was scattered throughout the room. Red sheer material and orange silk curtains draped down against a few of the rock walls. At the front of the room sat a large wooden chair, elaborately carved on the arms and back. The figures were creatures and human bodies intertwined as if in battle. Some of the creatures had horns, and some, wings.

  Every time I saw Gage, I was shocked by how good-looking he was, despite the long scar slanting across his forehead, which stopped just above his right eye and marred his perfect features. He wore an expensive suit, his white tie matching the shock of white that streaked through his dark hair.

  Caleb bowed as soon as he was in Gage’s presence. “My liege.” I almost laughed, only just stopping myself at the last moment—I didn’t need to antagonize Gage. I satisfied myself by rolling my eyes at the ridiculous formality.

  Gage ignored Caleb and addressed me. “Things are not working out as I’d hoped.”

  “I’m doing what you asked,” I spat.

  “True, you have been a model prisoner.” Gage rubbed his hands together. “But we have a problem.”

  He stood there, staring at me.

  I stayed silent.

  “You’re not a curious creature, are you?” He leaned over and grabbed a grape from a bowl on a nearby table. “Gage, what is the problem?” he asked himself, mimicking a female voice. “Well, Colina, since you ask, the creatures you created are starting to fall apart.” He popped the grape into his mouth and watched me for a reaction. “You don’t seem surprised by this information. That makes me wonder if the reason you have happily gone along with my wishes is because you knew the zombies would eventually start to fall apart. Come, come, what kind of friends are we if we can’t tell each other such things? You don’t trust me—I can see it in your eyes. I want you to trust me. We need to build a bridge of understanding between us if we are going to work together.”

  I bristled at his tone, but kept my face stony. Truthfully, I wasn’t surprised that the zombies were falling apart—Wanda, the spirit who entered the first zombie I’d made, told me she’d been freed when the body decomposed. I wasn’t sure why Gage was surprised—the bodies were dead and decaying, and forcing spirits into them wouldn’t change that. I wanted to scream at him, What do you expect when you create an army of the dead? But what good would it do?

  He leaned forward, studying my stoic expression. “What’s wrong? Devil got your tongue? I will tell you—since you won’t ask—that your friend Wendy is not doing so well. She tried to harm herself.” He raised his hands. “But don’t be concerned. As primitive as this place looks, we do have access to healers. She is recovering nicely.” He popped another grape into his mouth and when he was done chewing, he gave me a disapproving look
. “Your boyfriend has not been cooperating. I suggested, out of the goodness of my heart, that Luke join us. He should work for me. It only makes sense—your boyfriend has gifts that make him truly suited to this type of work, but he has been resistant to joining our ranks.”

  He turned away from me for a moment, pausing before turning back. “So, with all that in mind, I was thinking this arrangement we have has not been working as well as it should. I mean, look at you. How many days has it been since you’ve had a proper bath? You look pale.” He motioned with his hands, and a girl a few years older than me came out from behind one of the curtains. She was stunning, with flawless makeup, flowing red hair, and a predatory glint in her eyes. She looked me up and down with disdain.

  Gage gave me a wide smile. “I think we can find better quarters for you. Get you some decent clothes to wear, a bath, and some food to bring the color back into those cheeks.” He turned to the girl. “Sonja will take care of your needs.”

  The girl motioned for me to follow her, but I stood my ground. Gage was never kind or charitable. I’d watched the grin spread across his face when he’d ordered the twins to beat Luke. The great pleasure in his eyes when he told Caleb that I didn’t need to eat for a few days. Beatings, starvation—these were the things he had done so far without any remorse. What game was he playing now? What is this going to cost me? I thought coldly. I addressed Gage. “What do you expect me to do in exchange for this sudden…kindness and generosity?”

  He gave a wicked laugh. “Don’t look so suspicious. I was thinking you could help us find a solution to our problem. I can’t very well have an army if the army has limbs and parts falling off as it marches along. The bodies are decaying, and the stink alone is—well, I don’t have to tell you. You’ve experienced it yourself.”

  “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me.” And I had. I created his undead army. What price would I pay for going along with his evil plans? When my time was up, I doubted a white light would be beckoning for me.