Revenence (Book 2): Dead of Winter

by M. E. Betts

  "I get it," Daphne said, grinning as she caught the light from overhead on the engraving of her knife, showing it to Shari. Talon of the Titans, it read. "Us titans have things to do, right?"

  "Yeah," Shari said with a subdued laugh, laying her .357 revolver on the counter to give it a thorough cleaning. The two sat, each of them tending to her weapon and enjoying the silence, until Hugo and the Professor entered the kitchen through the mudroom.

  "You go ahead and use the downstairs bathroom," Hugo told the Professor. "I'll head upstairs."

  "The hole's dug," the Professor informed Shari and Daphne as he passed them on the way to the bathroom, backpack in tow. "Are we ready to bury her?"

  "Not now," Shari said, motioning toward Finn asleep on the foam couch. "I say we leave bright and early tomorrow and bury her last thing before we go. Let the kid have his closure and be on our way."

  "Sounds sensible," the Professor said just before he closed the bathroom door.

  "So Daphne," Shari said as she heard the Professor turn on the tap, "was I sensing something weird going on between you and Phoebe?"

  Daphne shrugged. "Depends what you mean by 'weird'."

  "I don't know," Shari said. "That's why I'm asking you. I don't mean to butt into your business, either. I just can't help but think of you as a little sister, and I guess I worry accordingly. Is there anything I should be worried about?"

  Daphne locked eyes with her, shaking her head. "I'm a big girl," she said. "Thank you, though. I mean it."

  Phoebe burst into the room, setting a box of scavenged goods on the counter. "I'll have to see how much of this I can jam into my bag," she said, pausing to gaze intensely at Shari and Daphne. "Did I interrupt something?" she asked, her eyes darting back and forth between the other two women, who shook their heads passively. Phoebe shrugged. "So are we burying that chick, or what?"

  "Tomorrow morning," Shari said. "At the crack of dawn, so that we can hit the road as soon as we're done with the burial."

  "Suits me fine," Phoebe said, pulling a partial bottle of top-shelf rum from the box. "Since we're staying the night, I'll be making short work of this, then hitting up the liquor cabinet over there."

  The five adults did their best to kick back and relax until early evening, throwing darts at a board in the expansive living room. Phoebe had finished the rum and several shots of vodka, taking full advantage of the open bar and relative safety. Shari and the Professor also drank, though in moderation.

  "You better hope nothing goes down tonight," Shari had warned Phoebe, only half teasing. "Trying to save your drunken, sloppy ass might be out of the question."

  "You know you love me, you bitch," Phoebe had said, her slurred words barely intelligible. She grabbed one of Daphne's darts, causing the rest of the group to flinch as she made a vague motion to throw it in the the general direction of the board. Before the dart left her fingertips, she passed out suddenly and completely, nearly knocking over Hugo as he stood behind her.

  "What do we do with her?" he asked, lowering her gently onto an armchair beside him.

  Before Shari could respond, a faint scraping sound came from the direction of the mudroom. They grew quiet, and as they listened they heard someone fumbling with the knob from inside the garage.

  "Take those two into the pantry or something," Shari said. Hugo picked Phoebe up, slinging her over his shoulder like a ragdoll. Daphne dragged Finn behind him, foam couch and all, while the young boy continued to snooze away.

  Shari cut the lights in living room, taking out her drywall hammer and stalking nearly noiselessly toward the mudroom. As she passed the refrigerator, she rustled the pile of discarded cheese wrappers, which fluttered quietly. Her boots stuck to the thick, dried juice on the floor. This alerted the intruder outside, who let out a growl produced by intact vocal cords.

  The Professor joined Shari's side, followed by Daphne and Hugo. The undead assailant, growing ever more agitated by the presence of the living on the inside of the door, responded by using its forearm to break the window in the top half. Shari's gaze traveled upward from a thin hand and arm splintered with glass shards to a face, once pretty but now gaunt and discolored, and came to a realization. This wasn't an intruder, it was an undead former inhabitant coming home. She recognized the young undead woman's necklace, the symbol for Pisces, from a photo on the corkboard upstairs. Shari watched as she began an attempt to crawl through the window, several fang-shaped shards of glass piercing her flesh in the process. Putrid juices spurted from the wounds, which only oozed a small amount of blood.

  Shari raised the drywall hammer above her head. "I'm sorry, Madeline," she said just before swinging the hammer down in one smooth motion, burying the hatchet end into the base of the undead girl's skull. She wrenched the hatchet free, leaving a pool of liquid and debris on the floor of the mudroom.

  "Good God," she muttered. "I think I'm ready for bed."

  She found another strip of landscape fabric in the garage, and she and Daphne rolled the girl's body up in the fabric. They each took an end of the bundled corpse, carrying it into the backyard.

  "We'll worry about the rest tomorrow," Shari said. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm calling it a night. I want to be unconscious."

  Shari's sleep that night was fitful, punctuated by short, repetitive dreams of tiny fish nipping at her and pestering her until she awoke. She would fall asleep only to awaken again shortly thereafter every hour roughly on the hour. The cycle continued until she finally gave up around five-thirty, figuring it was nearing the time to wake her companions so that they could all get started on their day.

  She peeled herself up from the recliner on which had spent the night. Creeping past her sleeping companions sprawled across the floor, sofa and loveseat, she made her way toward the kitchen. A quick cabinet search yielded a large capacity coffee maker, and also a pricey, unopened bag of coffee. She started the coffee, then tiptoed to the bathroom to brush her teeth, picking up her backpack along the way.

  As she rinsed her mouth, she stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror. It was the first time in a long while, since leaving Fauna's house, that she had actually studied her visage. She noted the crow's feet beginning to take shape at the outer corners of her eyes. The last time she had looked, they were only a vague threat of lines to come. She also noticed the first strands of silver above her ears, ribboning through her coarse, jet-black curls.

  "Hard living," she mumbled, stumbling to the mud room to retrieve her clothes from the washing machine. She wriggled out of the oversized t-shirt she had found in the master closet and into her wet clothes before returning to the living room.

  "Wake up, sleepyheads," she said. "Coffee's ready."

  Phoebe uttered a vague grunt from the corner, where she lay face-first on a large pillow from the couch.

  "Let's let her sleep 'til we're almost ready to go," the Professor suggested.

  The other four adults got themselves ready, then woke Finn just as the sun began to peek above the horizon. They exited the garage into the backyard.

  "It's time to say goodbye," Shari told Finn.

  "I can't see her face?" Finn asked, his voice trembling, as he looked down into the hole. Unbeknownst to him, his sister lay in the bottom of the hole, beneath her mother.

  Shari hesitated for a moment. "We have her wrapped up so she can be at peace," she said.

  Finn nodded, taking a step toward the fabric-wrapped corpse. "I love you, mommy," he said softly. "I love you forever." He sniffled as Daphne and Hugo began to shovel the dirt back into the hole. "Bye-bye."

  Shari sat cross-legged on the ground, Finn curled up in her lap as his sniffled subsided. The Professor turned to head back inside.

  "I'll tell Phoebe to be ready in ten," he said.

  Shari nodded, her eyes on the gathering clouds obscuring the sunrise and lighting the horizon up in a fringed belt of neon pink fire. She glanced down at the boy cradled in her arms, intensely aware of the enormity inherent to
the task they now had ahead of them. How to do it? she thought, wishing for a voice in her head that she knew wouldn't come. How to smuggle innocence through this hell on Earth and into Chicago?

  It was mid-morning when they neared Route 1 and the northwest corner of Danville. A pond filled with lotuses in bloom lay to their right, a chorrus of frogs echoing through the brisk morning air.

  They had gotten a late start on their day due to Phoebe's reluctance to awaken and travel the roadways with a hangover. They had eventually gathered her things for her and left them at her side as she lay on the floor near the bathroom.

  "We're leaving," Shari had told her. "Here's your stuff. Catch up with us, if you care to."

  Phoebe, disgruntled but left with no choice, had caught up with the group by the time they reached the driveway, hopping onto her bike and hurrying after them as she fished through her messenger bag for sunglasses. She had rode beside the group silently as they made their way to Danville.

  "Beautiful morning," the Professor remarked, taking in the clean, fragrant air and the sight of the lotuses.

  "Too bright," Phoebe moaned.

  "For you," the Professor said, "I'm sure it is. Here." He handed her his mug full of black coffee. "You could use this, I'm sure."

  "Thanks," she said, sipping the hot liquid. "I wish you guys had waited so I could have taken a shower," she complained.

  "We tried," Shari said. "We waited around as long as we could, but we have things to do and places to be."

  "We going into Indiana?" the Professor asked. "Or are we taking 1 north?"

  "Figured we'd take 1," Shari said. "Cross into Indiana later."

  Finn, seated on the horse between Shari and Hugo, caught a slight chill. He had brought a small baby blanket with him from home, and he wrapped it around him as the wind picked up.

  Hugo took off his baseball cap, placing it on Finn's head and pulling the back tab tight. "There you go, little guy," he said. "Looks like we're in for a chilly day."

  "Looks like," Shari agreed. "Can't be but 55 now, tops."

  "Yeah," Daphne said. "It's getting to be that time of year, we'll have to scavenge some cold-weather gear pretty soon."

  "I'm looking forward to it, myself," Shari said. "It's been murder, riding around in the hot sun in all this leather, when it's upwards of ninety degrees on a regular basis."

  To their right, between the pond and the road, sat a 70-foot-tall observation tower, where pre-zombie visitors could enjoy the view of the lotuses, the pond, and the lake beyond.

  "You stay here with Hugo, kiddo," Shari told Finn as she climbed down from the horse. "Daphne, you climbing up there with me?"

  Daphne shook her head. "I'd rather not."

  Shari stared blankly for a moment before she responded. "But I've seen you scale 100-foot-tall trees."

  Daphne shrugged. "Those are trees. This is a tower."

  "Oh," Shari said, a puzzled look on her face. "Really?"

  "I'll go up with you," Phoebe offered.

  "You sure you're feeling up to that?" Shari asked.

  "I feel like shit," Phoebe said, "but I'll feel equally shitty here on the ground."

  "If you say so," Shari said as she began her ascent of the tower.

  They wound their way to the top, more slowly for Phoebe than for Shari.

  As she completed the final flight, Shari shielded her eyes with her forearm, looking southeast, then raised her sniper rifle to use its scope. She could see the entire layout of the city, which centered almost entirely around Route 1. The town was mostly deserted on the northern end. She saw a thorough blockage, about a half-mile south, where wrecks jammed all the lanes and caused traffic to back up around it for miles with cars trying to take the road out of town. A couple miles to the east, there was a shopping center at the Route 1 intersection.

  "How's it look?" Phoebe asked, joining Shari on the viewing platform at the top of the tower.

  "I think that shopping center should be pretty safe to get into," Shari said, raising her AK-47 to utilize its scope. She panned slowly across the storefronts and parking area, noting very few cars and no undead immediately visible. "There's a biker store," she added. "That means a lot of leather stuff like Daphne and I have." She lowered the AK. "Yeah--Im pretty sure it's do-able." She lit up a smoke, intending to relax for a moment and enjoy the view.

  "Let me get some of that," Phoebe said, snatching it out of Shari's hand.

  "Did you clean your nasty, drunken puke mouth?" Shari asked.

  "Hey, don't be bogus!" Phoebe said, a mildly ashamed smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "I had a chance to gargle some mouthwash and spit it out as I ran down the driveway."

  Shari shrugged. "Better than nothing, right? The fresh air doing you any good?"

  Phoebe nodded. "Yeah," she said, "some. Enough that I intend to do my part to scavenge the living shit out of that store."

  "Let's get to it, then," Shari said, turning to descend the tower.

  Upon reaching the ground, she informed the rest of the group of the shopping center and the motorcycle gear shop.

  "It's just east of Route 1," she said. "I thought some leather gear was in order, especially for the little guy."

  "Does it look safe enough?" the Professor asked. "Will we be able to get to it?"

  "I think so," Shari said. "Most undead activity in town is capped off south of here."

  "We should get going, one way or another," Hugo said, pointing westward, the direction from which they had come. "It looks like we've sat for long enough."

  A sparse crowd of undead that they had attracted was making its way toward the group, though they were still roughly a half-mile away.

  Shari climbed back onto the front of the saddle, taking the reins. "Let's haul ass," she said. "Get there, get in, get out and back on the road."

  Ahead of her, Daphne pressed harder on the gas pedal, trying to maximize the distance between the group and the undead behind them. Phoebe and the Professor peddled furiously at the rear of the group.

  Phoebe cackled. "Later, shitheads!"

  At the motorcycle supply shop, they found the place to be firmly locked. Upon considering their options, they concluded that the best, quickest course of action would be to break the front window. Shari glanced around the parking lot. There were a few undead wandering in from another strip mall down the way, on the main road.

  "Daphne," she said, "you think you can handle these?"

  "Shouldn't be a problem," Daphne said. "Go on in. Hurry up, and we'll try not to leave you stranded."

  "Everyone look out," Shari said, reaching back to grasp her drywall hammer. She raised it, swinging the hatchet end first. The blade made contact with the glass, forming a central crack surrounded by countless small, concentric lines. She flipped the hammer in her hands, swinging the other end into the crack she had made. Shards large and small rained into the interior of the store, and she raised a leather-clad leg to kick away enough of the glass to allow entry into the store.

  "If your goal was to alert the zombies to our presence," Phoebe said as she climbed in behind Shari, "then congratulations, madame, for your have succeeded in your endeavor."

  "Daphne can handle the ones out there," Shari said. "At least until she tells us otherwise. Did you know of a quicker way to get in here?" Phoebe brushed silently past her. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Now gear up, so we can get outta here."

  Phoebe and the Professor perused the racks and shelves while Shari kept her eyes peeled for anything tiny enough for a toddler. She found a small, circular rack full of leather jackets in youth sizes. She flipped through the hangers, guessing Finn was probably around a 4T. The closest she found was a 6T, and she figured it was better to err on the side of too large, rather than too small. She headed toward the helmets, Finn's new coat tucked under her arm. She quickly found a dirtbike helmet in a child's size. She examined it, noting that it was clearly made for an older child with a slightly larger cranium, and it was purple. She concluded
that it would have to do, as it was the smallest headgear available.

  She stepped through the jagged hole in the front window, handing Hugo the jacket and helmet. "Help Finn get these on," she said. "I'm going back in."

  "Make it quick," Daphne said, pointing to the southern entrance of the shopping center. "A lot of them are going to find a way to bypass the wrecks if we sit here too much longer."

  Shari noted a few headed their way, still roughly a quarter-mile away. A larger crowd could be seen further down the road. She ducked back into the window. "You should only have those few to worry about," she said. "We'll be out before the others get here."

  "Are they holding it down out there?" the Professor asked.

  "For now," Shari said, "but we have to make our final selections and get the fuck out, or else they'll be overwhelmed within the next few minutes."

  Phoebe stripped off her duster, jeans and tank top. "Sorry, people," she said, shimmying into a leather top. "No time for modesty." She pulled on a pair of leather pants and the military-style boots she had already been wearing, along with her duster.

  "Find yourself a good pair of gloves," Shari suggested, scouring the racks for pants small enough for a toddler. "At least something to go over your palms and wrists."

  "I think I'm ready," the Professor said. He stepped out from behind a tall shelf, where he had changed into a dark blue dirtbike suit, helmet and gloves.

  "Good," Daphne said, leaning partially in through the window, "because we have to go. Now."

  "I'm ready," Phoebe said, climbing through the window. She had found a pair of fingerless hot-pink gloves and a dirtbike helmet that was matching pink and black.

  "You have less than a minute," Daphne told Shari as Phoebe and the Professor mounted their bicycles.

  Shari frantically scoured the racks, looking for the smallest pants she could find. She settled on a womens size 0 petite, then headed for the belts. She found a childrens' one-size-fits-all, then made her way to the window.

  "Shit," she muttered, turning back.