Revenant

by Catrina Burgess

  He led the way, and I followed. I had to keep going along with all his games.

  Do what the crazies want, Dean had said, and he was right. As long as Gage was threatening the people I cared about, what else could I do but play along?

  Chapter 4

  We weaved through the tunnels until Gage finally stopped in front of a wooden door. He walked into the room, but I stopped just within the entrance. This was not a natural cavern like the one where the party was being held. It was a man-made space cut out from the rock. The room was medium-sized with low hanging ceilings. The walls of the room were smooth and painted red, but the ceiling was uneven, and I could make out the jagged edges of rocks along it.

  Candlelight filled the room, throwing shadows against the rocky surfaces, and it made the place seem smaller than it was. For a moment, I felt claustrophobic. I looked up at the tons of rock just above my head and wondered what it would take to make it collapse. An earthquake, or just a tremor? For the first time, being underground began to feel dangerous. I thought back to the miners who’d been buried in the side tunnels not far off down the passage. How had they died? Quickly under the weight of the falling rock? Or did they slowly suffocate as pockets of air dried up in their isolated tunnels?

  Gage called out to me and I forced myself to walk into the room. Bodies lay on organized rows of metal tables and a few girls milled around them. I looked at the bodies and counted at least a dozen. Men, women, and children… They look as though they’re just sleeping.

  I watched as a girl my age dressed all in black raised a knife and brought it down hard, slicing open the man laying before her. The cut to his midsection was swift and deep. She reached into the incision and pulled out his kidney.

  A girl to my right was taking a long rod and shoving it up the nose of another body. When she pulled the rod back out, a mass of jelly-like tissue slid with it. The rod had a sharp, curved point on one end that skewered a large section of tissue. I realized in horror that I was looking at someone’s brain. She just pulled someone’s brain out through their nose. I gagged.

  Some of the girls clad in black were holding books over the bodies and reciting words. My mind flashed back to Weatherton’s ceremonial room at the asylum. I scanned the walls and floors for symbols. There were none.

  Zombies moved between the workers, carrying new bodies in and placing them on vacant slabs. One—a tall, skinny undead—turned and caught sight of me after it dropped its gruesome bundle. It began to shuffle toward me, its mouth moving as if trying to talk. One of the workers stepped forward to stand in front of it, gesturing emphatically toward the exit. The zombie turned and walked jerkily away, but its eyes never left me.

  “The process of mummification is quite fascinating.” Gage surveyed the room like a proud parent. “It won’t solve our problem entirely, but it will help preserve the bodies.”

  That’s when I realized what was missing—the smell of rotting flesh. These weren’t the dead from the field that I had been handling every night. Fresh bodies mean…

  Gage killed again.

  He walked over to a body. “Once we remove all of the major organs—with the exception of the heart—we place them in these containers.” He pointed to four clay jars sitting in a row at the corpse’s head. Looking around, I saw that the same four jars sat at the head of every body.

  I found myself moving toward the closest table. My hand reached out and touched one of the jars. The tops weren’t smooth lids—they were molded into animal shapes. One lid was shaped like a human head. Another had the face of a dog. There was one that resembled a bird and another shaped like the head of a baboon.

  “The Egyptians called them canopic jars, named after the four sons of Horus.” Gage pointed to each one. “Imsety holds the liver, Hapy has the lungs, Duamutef holds the stomach, and this last one…” He paused for a long moment and looked at the girl working on the table next to him, then held up his hand. “Don’t tell me. Let me see if I can remember.” We both watched him for a moment before a smile lit his face. “Ah, it’s Qebehsenuef. The god Qebehsenuef holds the intestines.” He looked immensely pleased with himself. “I’ve learned quite a lot about mummification. One Egyptian god holds each of the spare parts.” He picked up a jar and studied it. “The Egyptians buried these canopic jars with their dead. I thought any container would do, but the preservation spell we’re adding to the process won’t work without the jars. It’s as if the organs still serve some function, even though they are no longer attached. Fascinating, isn’t it?” He put down the jar and looked around the room.

  One of the zombies was stacking bolts of large, white material in the corner. It was one of the better-preserved specimens, and only a few drops of fluid oozed from its rotting flesh to drip onto the fabric. I wondered who was putting the spells on them to contain what must be an overwhelming stink. The solution was obviously not working very well, as it did nothing to stop the rot. I could feel the tattered remains of healing spells clinging to the walking corpse. My mother the healer could’ve told them their attempts to heal the bodies were useless. Some things can’t be healed, or no one would die at all. It was the natural order of things—ashes to ashes and all that. I was thankful that the spells helped the smell, though. Whoever cast them must be one powerful mage. There were six zombies moving in and out of the room, and instead of rotten flesh I smelled copper and iron. I realized I was smelling the blood and viscera of the fresh kills lining the tables.

  Gage followed my gaze and gestured toward the pile. “Rolls of linen for wrapping. We are waiting on a shipment of natron. You can’t start wrapping the bodies until you’ve poured it on and let the bodies cure. Natron is like salt—it will suck all the moisture out.” He gave a frown. “That’s the part that’s going to slow us down. It takes forty days before the bodies are dry enough to be stuffed.”

  “Stuffed?” I asked in a sickened voice.

  He pointed to a section of the room where shelves full of plants and glass jars lined the walls. “Stuffed with spices, salt, and herbs. But the majority of the stuffing they used in the past, traditionally, was sawdust. However, I was thinking—why not straw or cotton?” He leaned over one of the bodies, studying it. “We honestly don’t have to stuff them at all, but I think it will give them a more realistic look. A full-bodied mummy has a more spooky effect, don’t you think?”

  When I didn’t answer, he looked up at me and continued. “This is only a temporary fix until we can find a proper spell to keep them from rotting. A spell that can completely mummify them without all the work.” He looked over the half-dozen girls, all dressed in black, who worked at tables spread across the room. “We must find a spell soon because this process is so time consuming. You would not believe the man-hours involved. That’s why I pushed the timetable back six months. It gives us time to experiment.”

  He gave me a hard stare. “There are a lot of questions that need to be answered. Will you be able to raise the dead after they’ve been laying around for weeks? Once raised, will they still be bound to you? How strong will the bond be?” He looked out at the bodies spread throughout the room. “So many questions to be answered. The whole operation is trial and error. It’s the only solution I could come up with on the fly. Clever, don’t you think?”

  He is insane. Completely whacked out of his mind.

  He gave me a wide smile. “I can’t wait to see how the first batch turns out. I have an expert on mummification coming in next week, but the thought of getting started excited me so much I thought—why not do a test run?”

  “You killed more people.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “You’re much more squeamish than I thought you’d be. For a girl who raised a demon and successfully avenged her family’s death by murdering the men responsible, I would think that you of all people would understand. You’re one of us now.”

  I flinched as if he’d struck me. “I’m not like you.”

  He reached out for me. “But you ar
e. I can feel the darkness inside you.”

  I moved away from him. “I’ll never be like you!”

  “Why not just accept that you are a part of this?” He swung his arm out and encompassed the room. “This is a glorious life we lead.”

  “I will never be like you.” I said it this time as though making a vow. And I was.

  Gage gave me a knowing look. “You’re overwrought. I’ll bring you back here when we’re ready to move on to stage two. I can’t wait for the final stage, when we set them out into the wild. Imagine the fun.”

  I had thought the darkness had consumed me, drowned me, but it hadn’t. As I watched Gage surveying his surroundings with such glee, with such evil shining through his eyes, I realized that I would never be like him.

  I’d been a healer once. I’d been a creature of the light. And maybe, just maybe, like my mother said in my dream, there was a small flame of light still burning somewhere inside me.

  If only I could find it.

  * * *

  Sonja hadn’t lied—the place was spotless. I studied the house Dean, Wendy, and I now occupied. There was not a cobweb in sight, and the chandelier was sparkling in the candlelight.

  My head was pounding. I raised a trembling hand to my temple. The evening’s events had stretched my nerves thin. I’d been constantly on guard while in Gage’s company. Now that I was alone, I sunk down onto the piano bench. I wondered if I’d ever be able to find the energy to get up again.

  Gage had a room full of dead bodies that he was going to stuff and make into mummies. I’d hoped the rotting bodies would make him give up his zombie army, but instead he’d come up with a new plan. What if it works and he can keep the bodies from decomposing? How can I stop him?

  Wendy walked into the room. It was just the two of us for now. Luke was nowhere in sight. They must be keeping him away from me. She sat down in a nearby chair and took off her shoes. A sigh came from her mouth. “We survived the night.”

  I nodded my head and tried not to think about the mummy room. The last thing I needed was Wendy reading my mind. I didn’t think I could deal with talking about it all right now, not until I could come up with some way of stopping Gage and his gruesome operation. I focused on the pressing needs of my body to distract myself. I was hungry.

  My stomach gave a loud rumble.

  Wendy actually smiled. “I can’t believe you’re still hungry.”

  I was starved. I had eaten, but not enough. Hunger had gnawed at me for days. I wondered if I would ever be able to forget the loneliness, the despair I’d felt when I’d first been brought here and imprisoned. I forced myself to push the image of the cave that had been my cell out of my mind. I’m here now with Wendy. We were clean, fed, and there was hope that we could make it out of here. My stomach growled again. “You think Sonja kept her word and stocked the kitchen?” I asked, kicking off my heels. It felt good to be out of the tight shoes. I wiggled my bare feet against the wooden floor. When Sonja said she would get the place cleaned, she didn’t fool around—even the wooden floors were polished.

  Wendy gave me a ghost of a smile. “I don’t think she had a choice.”

  I pushed myself off the bench and made my way into the kitchen, Wendy following close behind. I opened a nearby cupboard and saw a row of tins. Grabbing one, I opened it. Inside was a stack of crackers.

  “The tins protect against mice,” Wendy said, opening another one. It housed some pieces of hard salami.

  “Mice?” I looked around and fished a cracker out of the tin. I was not fond of rodents. Imagining them hiding in the dark corners of the kitchen made me shudder.

  Wendy looked off into the distance. “Caleb and Jacob are in a place close by.”

  I lowered the cracker from my lips. At the mention of Caleb’s name, I lost my appetite. “To guard us?”

  She shook her head. “Jacob doesn’t like being underground all the time.”

  I wondered if this was something she lifted from Jacob’s thoughts.

  “I didn’t. He told me,” she said, reading my mind.

  “You talk to him?” I asked, surprised.

  “Jacob is not like his brother.”

  It was true Jacob didn’t seem to have the same hard edge, the same streak of violence his brother did. But he worked for Gage. Both Jacob and Caleb eagerly bowed to Gage’s commands. How dark and twisted were their hearts and souls to follow such a madman? But it was true that so far, Jacob hadn’t shown the same propensity for physical violence as his brother.

  “Caleb hates me.” And I have no idea why.

  She gave me a cautious look.

  “Do you know why?” I demanded.

  She paused a long time before finally answering. “Their family followed Macaven. You killed their mother and some of their cousins that night in the ballroom.”

  I looked at her, horrified, not sure what to say.

  “Jacob doesn’t blame you for their deaths, but Caleb does.” Wendy’s eyes met mine. “You need to be careful around Caleb. He really wants to see you dead.”

  She’s right, he does. I could see it in his eyes every time he looked at me. “Gage would never let him hurt me.”

  “Gage is not always around,” she answered softly.

  “I’m safe as long as I’m doing what Gage wants.” I could tell by her expression that she didn’t believe me. I didn’t know if I believed it myself. “We will get out of here.” I said it with more certainty than I felt. I wanted desperately to believe it.

  I suddenly swayed on my feet and reached out to put my hand on the wall for support. I forgot my hunger as exhaustion set in. Both physically and mentally tired, I desperately needed sleep. I had to be ready for whatever crazy ordeal tomorrow would bring. “Sonja promised clean sheets. You think she delivered on that, too?” I didn’t wait for Wendy’s answer. I tucked the tin of crackers under my arm and made my way slowly out of the kitchen and down the hall.

  I opened one of the doors at the end of the hallway. The room was clean. There was a wrought iron bed with a small wooden nightstand to one side. A lit candle sat on top. On the other side of the room stood a tall, black wooden dresser that took up most of one wall. The furniture was old-fashioned, but the white-and-pink-striped bed covering and pillowcases looked brand new.

  Wendy was behind me. She took a few steps down the hall and opened another door. I followed after her. That bedroom looked similar except this one had a large mirrored dresser in one corner.

  I looked toward the main room. “I guess it’s too much to hope that they would bring Luke back here.”

  Wendy said in a quiet voice, “I watched Caleb and Jacob escort him out of the party. Don’t worry, Colina—they won’t hurt him. He’s their insurance policy.”

  “They know I’ll do whatever they want as long as they keep him safe.”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “You…know what I’ve been doing?”

  She nodded her head.

  I walked into the bedroom and sank down on the bed. My hands came up and covered my face.

  Wendy sat down next to me. “I know you think you don’t have a choice.”

  Think? I know I don’t.

  We sat there in silence for a long time before I finally asked, “Would you do it?”

  “Would I do anything asked of me, no matter how vile, to save someone I love?” She was silent a while. Then she whispered, “I don’t know. I’ve never loved anyone.”

  “You love your parents.”

  “I barely know my parents.”

  “What about sisters or brothers?”

  “No. What family I do have, I am not interested in speaking to. They abandoned me—I’ve spent the last few years in asylums.”

  That’s where I’d met her, in an asylum. What a lonely life she must’ve led. I’d once had a family that loved me. I’d once had a happy life. But if my family could see me now… If anyone from my clan found out what I was up to, I knew they would imprison me immediately. Or maybe wors
e.

  It seemed like so long ago that I was a healer. So long since I’d stumbled into the magic shop. It was then that I first locked eyes with Luke. He was not happy to see me. I smiled at the memory. My hands went to my lips, remembering the first night he’d kissed me. I missed him so much. I wrapped my arms around myself. I want him here with me so desperately. Tears started to slide down my face.

  When I looked up again, Wendy had gone and shut the door behind her. I lay on the bed and cried until I couldn’t cry anymore.

  * * *

  When I woke, it was dark. The candle had burned out. I’d fallen asleep still wearing my dress. If I’m going to change into something more comfortable, I need light. I got up and gingerly made my way from the bed to the door in the dark. Opening it, I could see light shining down the hall from the kitchen.

  I made my way into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the shelf. I dipped the glass into a bucket of well water sitting on the stove. The fire in the stove had long since died, and the water was lukewarm. I took a sip.

  I looked at the candle burning in a glass-topped lantern on the table. The wax was almost completely burned down. I’d seen more candles and matches in the cupboard when we’d been rummaging for food. I put the glass of water down and took a step toward the cupboard.

  Hands grabbed me from behind.

  I started to cry out in surprise when a palm pushed hard against my mouth, silencing me. I bit down and heard a grunt of pain, but the hand didn’t budge. I struggled to get free, but whoever had me was much bigger and stronger and was dragging me out of the kitchen. Then the door opened, and I felt a breeze on my face. We’re leaving the house, I realized. Soon I would be out of range of Wendy or any hope of rescue. I struggled harder. I kicked and swung, but whatever contact I made seemed to make little difference.