As Louisa worked with Juliet, her arms became stronger and her corset looser, since loosening the ties allowed her to accomplish more of the drills that Juliet assigned. Working so closely with Juliet gave Louisa a new appreciation for her Attendant. And as Juliet taught her how to hold the swords and move with them, Louisa began to ask questions.
“Juliet, where are you from?”
“Juliet, do you have any family?”
“Juliet, where did you learn how to kill the undead?”
Louisa probed until she had the whole of Juliet’s life story: born on a small plantation outside Charlotte, then to Baltimore with her mother in search of her father after the war, and eventually a student at Miss Preston’s School of Combat for Negro Girls.
“I figured, if the dead were always going to be trying to kill me, I might as well kill them right back,” Juliet said, a laugh in her voice. She reached out and moved Louisa’s hands on the swords. The brief contact flustered Louisa, but Juliet didn’t notice. “Loosen up on the handle, not too tight. You don’t want to get tired too quickly. Shamblers are a persistent sort; you want to be able to outlast them.”
Louisa adjusted her grip and practiced the swing again, somewhat breathless from both the training and Juliet’s touch. “You are completely unlike any other Negro I’ve met.”
Juliet laughed, the sound hollow. “Truth is, I’m just like every single other colored person on this plantation. You just ain’t paying attention. Follow through on the motion, don’t halt yourself on the back swing,” she said, moving past her gentle rebuke so smoothly that it took Louisa a few moments to realize it had even been said.
But the words had been uttered, and Louisa mulled over Juliet’s comment that evening and the next day. And every day after that. She started to take closer note of the goings-on around Landsfall, began to notice small things around her. She noticed the dismissive way her father and Everett talked about the Negroes over supper, as though they were lesser just because of an accident of birth. She saw how the colored servants would laugh and smile when they thought whites were not around. She watched how their expressions became guarded whenever Louisa or any of her family entered the room. And she noticed how a couple of the girls smiled at Juliet, a knowing smile that usually followed small touches. It would’ve been nothing if Louisa hadn’t caught Juliet kissing one of the girls passionately before defense practice one morning, a sight that caused Louisa to blush and gave her fevered dreams that left her troubled and out of sorts.
Louisa liked training with Juliet and listening to her talk about her life before Savannah. But it wasn’t the only thing she liked.
She began to appreciate entirely too much. Like the way Juliet’s arms looked, the muscles straining at the material of her shirt, and how Juliet would smile at her, truly grin, when Louisa managed to complete an especially tricky series of drills. After two months of working with Juliet, Louisa felt like a different person.
A better person.
“I think I’m ready, Juliet,” Louisa said one day without preamble as she turned the swords in a move Juliet called “Harvesting Wheat.”
“Ready for what?”
“I want to go out and hunt the undead,” Louisa said.
A frown crossed Juliet’s face, but it was quickly smoothed away. “Louisa, that isn’t a good idea.”
Louisa let her swords fall to her side. “Why not?”
“Because you’re not ready yet. I trained for a year before I even took on my first shambler, and then I still had my teacher watching to make sure I didn’t get the fright. The shamblers out there are thick as mosquitoes in July. You go out, untrained and unready, and you won’t stand a chance.”
“Have you thought maybe I’m just better than you, Juliet?” Louisa harrumphed.
“No, I haven’t, Miss Louisa,” Juliet said quietly. Louisa sensed that she’d stumbled into something dangerous. It was the first time Juliet had used the honorific in front of her name in months. Her suspicions were confirmed when Juliet said, “I think that’s enough for today, Miss Louisa. Mrs. Aiken told me you needed time to prepare for the trip into town.”
“What do you mean, a trip into town?”
Juliet shrugged, something Louisa had never seen her do before. “I don’t know anything, Miss Louisa. I just do what I’m told.”
Louisa stood in the grass, searching for something to say as Juliet took back her swords, checked their edges, holstered them, and went off into the house to attend to her own business.
Louisa wasn’t sure why she felt so bad about Juliet’s sudden detachment, but she did. She’d done something wrong, something that had upset Juliet. Louisa didn’t want her to be cross; she couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing Juliet smile down at her. It made her heart clutch painfully to think that something she had done had erased that joy from Juliet’s face.
She didn’t know how to fix things, and she didn’t know why she cared in the first place.
After washing up and donning a fresh dress, Louisa entered the foyer to find Mrs. Aiken barking at the staff as they brought trunks down the stairs. Louisa recognized her own traveling trunk, one that she hadn’t used since she was small, sitting among the stacks.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Mrs. Aiken turned around and smiled brightly at Louisa. “This morning Everett came by and asked for your hand in marriage. Engaged before the fall! Oh, Louisa, you will be the envy of all of Savannah. Less than a year from debut to wedding. Your father has decided we should spend the rest of the summer in town, since it will make the festivities easier. There’ve been reports of a considerable horde heading our way, so we’re going to leave this afternoon.”
Louisa tried to take a deep breath, to steady herself. It was all happening so fast. She was to be engaged. And to Everett! But there was a horde coming toward them, and that seemed like a matter of grave consequence. There was also the matter of Landsfall and the staff.
“A horde, Mother? Shouldn’t we stay here and secure Landsfall? That many undead doesn’t sound good.”
Mrs. Aiken waved away Louisa’s concern. “That’s exactly why we’re going to Savannah. We’ll be much safer in the city, behind the wall with the patrols.” Mrs. Aiken patted Louisa’s hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll have your girl to see to our safety.”
Mrs. Aiken moved off and began instructing a few of the men on loading the pony. Louisa tried not to wring her hands in worry, but abandoning Landsfall seemed like a terrible idea. Wouldn’t there be more danger from the undead in a closely packed city, regardless of the wall?
Louisa looked over to Juliet, who was talking in a low voice with one of the other colored girls. The girl was visibly upset, and whatever Juliet said calmed her some. Juliet smiled down at the girl and then pulled her in for a hug, and Louisa was surprised by a sharp stab of jealousy. She wanted Juliet to calm her like that, to wrap her strong arms around her and make her feel safe, the same way she had the day the undead broke through the fences of Landsfall.
Juliet released the girl, looking up to meet Louisa’s gaze. Juliet raised her eyebrows in question, and it was at that moment Louisa realized she was staring, her hands clenched in fists.
Purposely looking anywhere but at Juliet, Louisa went to prepare herself for the trip to Savannah.
The trip into town was uneventful, despite Louisa’s anxiety that the horde would intercept them before they made it into the city. And as the days filled with engagement dinners and wedding planning, Louisa completely forgot about both the rumored horde of undead and her spat with Juliet.
Because there was Everett.
He was solicitous, coming round to the Aiken family townhouse at least twice a day to check on Louisa, to see if there was anything she needed. He brought flowers and a warm smile, and Louisa couldn’t help but think she was going to end up married to the best man in the world.
Even so, there was still a niggle of doubt in the back of her mind. It wasn’t that she had any othe
r prospects—marrying Everett was really the only acceptable thing she could do with her life. It was that she wanted something more than Everett’s perfunctory kisses and gentle touches and a life of wifely duties.
But what?
And every time she asked this question, there was the image of Juliet kissing one of the Landsfall girls out behind the pavilion.
All of these emotions churned through Louisa the day the undead breached the city wall.
It came as a clanging of bells, and at first Louisa thought there was a fire. But the screams and shouts that filtered through the windows from the street quickly made clear that nothing was burning, but the city was in trouble all the same.
Juliet ran to the front door, throwing it wide and looking down the street.
“What is it?” Louisa asked, hurrying to stand next to Juliet.
“Shamblers.”
They were everywhere. Men and women ran down the street in wide-eyed panic while the undead lumbered after them, arms reaching out to, more often than not, clutch empty air. The smell was terrible, a sweetly foul rot that overwhelmed and made Louisa gag. A man tripped and fell, the undead swarming him quickly, the echo of his screams fading soon after they fell on him.
But not soon enough.
Juliet closed the door and locked it, moving the huge barricade bar in place. “We need to get you out of the corset, Miss Louisa. You need to be able to breathe if you’re going to run.”
“What about Mother?” Mrs. Aiken had gone to Mrs. Arsbury’s house for a luncheon. She was trapped out there, somewhere.
Juliet shook her head. “Our best bet is to get out of town, head down to Landsfall. Maybe get a boat and double back through one of the marshes. . . .” Juliet trailed off as she thought, her teeth capturing her full bottom lip and worrying it. Louisa felt a sudden shock as she realized that Juliet was so young, yet so much wiser than she was.
“Why don’t you just call me Louisa anymore?” It was a petty thing to bring up at such a time, but she couldn’t help it.
Juliet didn’t miss a beat, ushering Louisa up the stairs to change. “Because for a moment I forgot you were a white woman, but then you reminded me, and I don’t need for that to happen again.”
Louisa didn’t want to understand what Juliet meant by that, but she did. Training with Juliet had caused her to see Negroes in a different light . . . but not nearly enough, it seemed. Louisa knew it wasn’t fair for someone as competent as Juliet to be trapped in a position of perpetual servitude, but that was just the way things worked, and it wasn’t up to Louisa to change things.
Was it?
Louisa was full of doubts and questions, but it was a terrible time for existential crises. There was a horde quickly overrunning Savannah. It would all have to wait.
Juliet helped Louisa out of her dress and her corset, and helped her dress again in a plainer traveling dress made of cotton. They ran downstairs to find the undead pounding at the door and the windows, the metal bars the only thing keeping out the ravenous creatures. The cook, Dessa, and her two small girls were standing in the foyer, clinging to one another. Juliet went over and whispered something low to Dessa and the girls, who were crying quietly. They settled a bit, nodding at whatever Juliet said.
“Let’s hope they haven’t found their way down the alley,” Juliet said. She paused to hand her swords to Louisa before pulling Mr. Aiken’s cavalry sword from the war off the mantel. She tested the edge while Louisa looked.
“What are you doing with Daddy’s sword?”
“You need a weapon. Dessa is going to have to mind the girls as we move through town, and you aren’t strong enough to take out a shambler with a single-handed weapon. So I get to pretend to be a Confederate for a minute. More’s the pity.”
Louisa said nothing, and Juliet continued. “I’m taking the lead. Louisa—” Louisa noticed the lack of honorific and smiled. “You take the rear. We don’t put down a shambler unless we have no choice, you hear? The goal is speed, not glory.”
“Shouldn’t we stay here?” Louisa said, pointing to the undead trying to claw through the windows. “The bars seem to be holding.”
“This is the leading edge of the horde, and it’s already a hundred deep. Once the bulk of them get here, we’ll be trapped. Our chances are better on the move.”
Juliet waited, as though she expected Louisa to argue, but Louisa just nodded. “I’m right behind you, then.”
Juliet walked toward the back of the townhouse, through the dining room and the kitchen and out into the garden. The yelling, the gunshots, and the rasping growls of the undead filtered in from the front of the house, but the small alley behind the house was quieter and free of undead.
“Shamblers go after noise and movement. There’s enough shenanigans on the main road that we should be able to travel for a while,” Juliet said.
They navigated the alleys, moving away from the screams and shouts, dashing across the more exposed lanes like frightened rabbits. Once they burst out of an alley onto a small pod of three bent over a fallen woman, the wet sounds of their feeding loud. Dessa wrapped her arms around the girls while Juliet removed the heads of the undead, sticking the sword through the eye of the fallen woman so that she wouldn’t rise again. Louisa watched, swallowing hard when she felt her lunch attempt to come up.
They kept moving, quickly, cautiously. After they’d gone a few blocks, the sounds faded away to normal city noise. Juliet led the group toward the river and the docks, and once they were in view, it quickly became clear that others had had the same idea.
The docks were in chaos.
People were trying to climb the boats moored to the shore while sailors pushed them away. A few people had jumped into the water to try and swim across the river, heedless of the undead that might be lurking in the depths. A man waded into the river carrying a door, and after placing it on the water he climbed aboard and began to paddle himself across the murky water. People were pushing and yelling, screaming and pleading, and Juliet looked lost as she took in the scene.
“The scare must’ve started a while ago,” she said, gesturing to the number of people crowding the wharf. “There’s no way we’ll be able to hitch a ride out of here at this rate.”
“Louisa!”
Louisa turned. Everett hurried toward them, his normally healthy skin unnaturally pale. “What are you doing with those swords? Is it true? Is the city lost?”
Louisa nodded. “We need to find a boat out of here, head back to Landsfall. We’ll be safe there.”
Everett shook his head. “Not likely. The horde came from the south. I’m sorry, Louisa, but Landsfall may be lost.”
A calm settled over Louisa. Her childhood home, gone. And what of the people, what of all the men and women and children who worked the plantation, colored and white alike? Were they also gone?
Everett gathered her up in his arms, and Louisa fell into them gratefully. “I’ll protect you, my beautiful Louisa. We’ll be married and I’ll care for you.”
“Not if we don’t get across that river,” Juliet said. “The horde came from the south? Then that explains why everyone is trying to swim across to Carolina. I’ve got kin there, if you have a boat that can get us to safety.”
Everett released Louisa and looked at Juliet, Dessa, and the girls as though he was seeing them for the first time. “Just exactly who do you think you are, speaking to me that way?”
“Everett, Juliet navigated us through a city full of undead. She knows what she’s doing,” Louisa said, laying a hand on his arm. His face flushed.
“I’m not of the mind to put up with uppity Negroes, regardless of their use. I can protect you now that we’re to be married, and these three can be on their way.” Everett pushed Louisa behind him and advanced on Juliet, who once again wore the slight smile Louisa had come to know was a self-defense mechanism.
Louisa straightened, anger making her brave. No one was going to treat Juliet poorly. “I’m not going to marry you, Evere
tt.”
Everett turned back around. Louisa prepared for an argument.
That was the moment an undead Negro woman launched herself at Everett, tearing into his throat.
Dessa and her girls screamed in unison, a counterpoint to Everett’s howls of pain. Louisa watched the spurt of red with wide eyes, her hands going slack and the swords tumbling from her grasp.
Juliet sprang forward, taking off the shambler’s head and Everett’s as well. She tucked the cavalry sword into one of her holsters and picked up the short swords Louisa had dropped.
“You hear me?” Juliet said, snapping her fingers in front of Louisa’s face.
“Yes! I had a shock, I haven’t been struck dumb,” Louisa snapped.
Then she looked down at the ground and her now headless fiancé. Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, poor, stupid Everett. It was probably better this way.”
Juliet laughed, and Louisa realized how her words must have sounded. She’d heard that people acted strangely in life-or-death situations, and she knew that she probably wasn’t acting rationally.
But hearing Juliet laugh was such a welcome sound that Louisa found herself reaching out, pulling Juliet close, and planting a kiss right on her smiling lips.
Juliet leaned back in surprise. “Well now, don’t start celebrating yet. We’ve still got to find a way out of town,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Dessa and the girls. None of them were paying attention, since the undead were starting to flood the riverfront.
“We need to run,” Juliet said, pointing north along the waterfront. “If the horde came from the south, we might be able to flank them.”
They began to run, quickly at first, then more sporadically as the girls developed side cramps. Louisa made the mistake of glancing over her shoulder, only to see people devoured as the horde of undead rushed into them, pinning them between the river and the fallen city. Some people ran north, like them, and others jumped into the river, drowning or swimming for the South Carolina shore.
Once they were out of sight of the undead, Juliet routed them back through the city. It was still madness, but for the most part the horde had skipped the northern part of Savannah, leaving people to evacuate if they could, and flee.
Three Sides of a Heart Page 5
