Revenants Series (Book 2): Remnants

by Elisabeth, Lee

  July 31, 2019

  Howard killed Aiden.

  Aiden is dead.

  As much as I don’t want to bring myself to admit it, Aiden is gone, and no amount of denying it will change the fact that he couldn’t protect me from Howard. He probably tried, but what’s one man against twenty-five? The men in camp worship Howard; they fight his enemies, living and dead. They must, even if they don’t want to.

  Those who refuse are fed to Miss Ada’s son in the basement.

  When I disobey Howard, he threatens to do the same to me.

  I don’t care. I know he won’t do it. I’m the only female left at the farm, other than Carrie, and he intends on rebuilding his bloodline through me…willing participant or not. He knows I would leave if I could, so he makes sure I can’t. He keeps me locked in the attic when he’s not abusing me; no matter how hard I try I can’t figure out a way to escape my prison.

  I hate him.

  I hate all of them.

  Though not as much as Carrie hates me.

  She blames me for her loss of favor. When Howard isn’t around, she binds my wrists and slices small cuts into my skin from a piece of paper or tin foil. Never enough to make me bleed, mind you. No, Howard wouldn’t approve of his favorite “wife” being mutilated, but my hands and arms are covered in cuts he wouldn’t notice unless he looked closely.

  On especially bitter days, she makes me hold out my hands while she pours vinegar over my cuts. Since I have no allies on the farm, I endure the torture for as long as it takes to figure out a way to escape this godforsaken place.

  I promise myself I’ll find a way to make her pay just before I leave.

  August 15, 2019

  I finally convinced Howard I’m not a flight risk.

  I still have a guard, but I’m allowed to sleep in a bedroom, like a human being. I’ve been planning my escape for two weeks. Tonight, when I report to my bedroom, I head to the bathroom and lock myself in the small room, with the exhaust fan running. I take out the sharp knife I removed from the kitchen earlier and begin working on the bathroom window. At some point, probably years ago when people still used oil-based paint for everything, a careless painter painted the windowsill shut. I tried to open it last night, but to no avail. The outcome will be different tonight; I’m going to open this window, if it’s the last thing I do.

  I won’t stay here another minute.

  After thirty minutes of scraping and pulling, the window releases. I pause, making sure the noise didn’t alert my guard. Satisfied that no one is coming in to stop me, I begin working the window up, little by little, until the gap is large enough for me to fit through.

  My heart is pounding. Am I really going to get away with it? I force myself to pace the small bathroom for a few minutes to regulate my breathing. I must remain calm, or this won’t work. I take a deep breath, and then walk to the window. I crawl through the opening slowly, making sure I don’t make any more noise than absolutely necessary. Once outside, I scale the roof until I reach the west end of the house. There’s a large tree resting against that side of the house. I’m going to use it to climb down to the ground. I won’t do myself any favors if I try to jump and end up breaking a bone.

  The tree proves to be a good move. Within minutes, I’m on the ground, running toward the barn. I don’t dare think about it or take anything with me. I’ll find things to eat, and shelter for my weary body, as I make my way east. I can’t plan anything beyond that, because when I try to, I get so scared I want to vomit.

  The barn is quiet. For a moment I worry Smoke is gone, but then I hear her comforting sounds, and I rush to her stall to begin readying her for our last ride. I walk the highlander out of the barn. I pause at the door, checking each direction for any movement. I don’t see anything, but it’s nearly midnight, so everything is dark. I hope the darkness hides me as good as it hides everything else. I move forward, forcing my feet to take us farther away from the barn, closer to the main drive.

  As soon as we’re on the road, I hop onto Smoke’s strong back and we set off at a gallop. A few yards out, I start laughing. I can’t help it. I’m giddy with hope, and scared, and happy, and a whole spectrum of emotions that refuse to stay bottled up. I’m finally going to be free of this place and Howard.

  A single shot echoes through the night. I pull Smoke to a stop and fall to the ground, trying to protect myself from additional shots. I don’t know if it came from in front of me or from behind. I hear footsteps in the distance…a rustle of a leaf here, a snap of a twig there…but I can’t tell who the steps belong to.

  Finally, I see her…appearing suddenly, like an apparition.

  “I never thought I’d be so fortunate. Thank you, Alli,” Carrie says.

  She loads another shell in the shotgun.

  “Carrie? What are you doing?” I ask. I start backing away from her, using my hands and feet to put distance between me and the scorned wife.

  “Howard can’t bring you back if you’re dead,” she says.

  I scramble faster, trying to get out of her way, but I can’t move fast enough. She raises the gun. I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing myself to die. The blast of the gun rips through the night. I wait for one second, then another, before I risk opening my eyes again. I should be dead. Shouldn’t I?

  I look down at my chest and stomach. No obvious wound, and no pain.

  She missed me.

  A laugh escapes my trembling lips.

  I don’t know how I’m still alive, but I am. I look to make sure Carrie isn’t reloading, but she’s gone. It takes a minute for me to realize she’s on the ground. I don’t understand until I hear his voice.

  “I know you don’t love me, Alli. But I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  Howard emerges from the shadows. He stops just behind Carrie’s lifeless body.

  “Why were you going to leave me?” he asks.

  “Because you’re a monster,” I manage. I’m terrified. He’s crazy. He just killed his wife to save my life, because she was trying to hurt me even though he hurts me every day.

  “You’re coming home, Alli,” he says.

  He walks to where Smoke stands, jerking her head around nervously, waiting for me to remount her strong back. She shies away from Howard as he approaches. He raises the gun and fires into the air, sending her galloping away. I watch her disappear with tears in my eyes.

  She’s gone.

  Gone, like everything else.

  Howard extends his hand to me. “Get up, Alli. Come on now…it’s not safe to be out in the night like this.”

  “You killed her,” I whisper, looking at the corpse a few feet away.

  “I did,” he agrees.

  “It’s murder.” I look at him. “Just like you murdered Miss Ada and Fred. And Aiden,” I say.

  “Let’s get you home, Alli,” he says, ignoring my condemnation. “We’ve got a lot to make up for.”

  August 17, 2019

  I’ve been locked in the attic for two days.

  I think.

  I’m not sure anymore. Sometimes it feels longer than that.

  When the door finally opens, it’s Howard...of course it is...and he asks me to join him for dinner.

  “Wash up before coming to the table,” he orders. “You’ll feel more like yourself after a good bath.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “I wasn’t asking, Alli,” he says. His words carry a warning…do what I say or pay the price.

  I stand and walk obediently to my bedroom downstairs. I head to the bathroom and turn on the water. I notice the window has been boarded over. Once the bathtub is full, I slip inside and close my eyes. The water feels nice. I slide under the surface, like a ghost slipping into her grave. I wish I could bury myself forever, but I can’t so I sit up and begin washing my hair, then my body. I can’t wash away the disappointment, though...no matter how hard I try.

  I was stupid enough to believe I’d make it.

  After I get dressed and dry my
hair, I head down to the dining room where my food waits.

  Dinner is uneventful. Neither one of us speaks until Howard wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin and stands. “Come on,” he says, holding his hand out.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “To bed, Alli.”

  “Okay.”

  I follow him upstairs. I’m happy he’s ready for bed. I’m exhausted. The attic floor is hard and cold, and I barely slept during my most recent punishment. I try to go into my own bedroom, but Howard grabs my wrist, stopping me.

  “You’ll be in my room from now on.”

  “What? No.” My pulse quickens. I try to pull away from him, but he’s too strong.

  “What did you think was going to happen, Alli?” he asks. “We still have a community to build.”

  He pulls me to him and presses his mouth hard against mine. I think to myself, I’ll be bruised in the morning, but what does it matter. Does any of it matter?

  I’m already dead. Just like Carrie. I’m just waiting on my ”husband” to finally pull the trigger.

  August 18, 2019

  August 19, 2019

  August 20, 2019

  August 21, 2019

  The nights never seem to end, but all darkness is drowned by light at some point. Or shades of gray, at the very least. Sometimes, the ghosts we bury manage to dig themselves up and teach us the meaning of regret.

  They don’t typically send advance notice.

  Howard is snoring beside me. I hear a thud in the hallway, just outside the bedroom door. My body tenses, preparing itself for whatever new nightmare lurks in the darkness. One second, two, three...the door opens slowly with a loud whine that only old hinges seem to make. A shadow makes its way toward the bed, stumbling every few steps.

  My first thought is Miss Ada’s son broke free from his cage and he’s here to kill all of us. But Germ’s don’t open doors…not the ones I’ve seen anyway.

  The shadow puts a finger to its mouth, warning me to stay silent.

  I don’t move. I can’t. Fear has me welded to the bed, while my eyes struggle to recognize the figure standing over me. Finally, the face snaps into focus, and my heart begins to flutter madly.

  Aiden.

  Unbelievably back from the dead, holding a knife in his bloodied hand. He holds it out to me, gesturing for me to take it. “Do it, Alli. It’s your only chance to make it right,” he whispers.

  I sit up and take the knife. My hands are trembling. I look at Howard, sleeping soundly. I hate him. I hate him more than I ever thought I could hate anyone, but I can’t kill him. No matter what he’s done to me, I can’t bring myself to take a life.

  “Do it, Allyson,” Aiden says again.

  I shake my head, and tears roll down my face. “I can’t.”

  Before I realize what’s happening, Aiden grabs my hand and runs the blade across Howard’s throat. Blood pools from the wound, staining the pillow beneath his head.

  Howard awakens with a start. He looks at me, then at Aiden. He tries to speak, but he can’t. He chokes on his own blood, before falling silent as the last of his life bleeds out. I’m going to hyperventilate. He’s dead. I killed him. Even if I didn’t want to, my hand held the blade that took his life.

  Aiden falls onto the bed beside me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here quicker, Alli,” he says.

  “Where have you been?” I ask him. “I thought you were dead.”

  He pulls his shirt up, revealing his stomach and a nasty gash in his side. It looks infected. “Howard and a few of his men carried me out to the woods the night the women got bit by the Germ.” He winces, as he lowers the shirt back over his wound. “He stabbed me…left me for dead. I passed out a few times. Got lost in the woods.” He laughs. “The fever hasn’t helped.”

  “Oh, Aiden.” I touch his shoulder. “We have to get you cleaned up. I think you have an infection.”

  He looks at me, and his jaw tightens. “Who else hurt you, Alli?”

  Tears dance in my eyes. “All of them,” I whisper.

  Anger darkens his blue eyes. “They’ll pay for it, Alli. Dearly.”

  A loud moan startles us. I turn to see Howard sitting up in the bed; his mouth is moving but he can’t form any coherent words, his eyes are covered by a milky sheen. He lunges for me, latching on to my back with his hands. I pull myself out of his grasp, but he grabs me again, and I feel the warmth of my own blood running down my back.

  I scream.

  Aiden buries the knife into Howard’s head. Finally, the gnashing stops, and he falls to the bed, dead again.

  “I’ll go get the first aid kit,” Aiden says, standing. He sways, dizzy from blood loss. “We could both use a few stitches, I think.”

  I catch him before he falls and help him walk across the hall to what used to be my bedroom. “Come on, Aiden. Just a little farther.” Once we get close enough to the bed, I let him fall backward. He lands on the soft mattress with a thud. “You stay here,” I tell him. “I’ll go get the first aid kit.”

  He doesn’t argue. He doesn’t have the strength to. I close the door behind me softly and stare into the dark bedroom across the hall. Now that my eyes have adjusted to the low light, I can see the outline of Howard’s body lying limp on the bed.

  He died twice tonight. Once by my hand, and again by Aiden’s.

  It was better than he deserved.

  September 20, 2019

  Life at the farm is interesting again.

  Especially with Aiden as the new leader.

  The morning following Howard’s death, Aiden, properly cleaned and bandaged, and set on revenge, called a meeting of everyone still left at the farm, and promptly executed five of them…just to make sure the others were listening. Once he had their attention, he went over the new rules:

  He was in charge.

  Anyone who failed to respect him would be sent to the cage in the basement.

  I was off limits. Period.

  I waffle between being relieved and scared. This Aiden is different than the one who nearly died trying to protect me. Something broke in him while he was wondering through the woods, disoriented. He became more primal, less trusting. He’s colder, and as much as it kills me to admit it, I don’t feel any safer by his side than I did in Howard’s bed.

  He scares me.

  I pretend not to care. I pretend to love him again, but I’m biding my time, waiting for the moment I can escape this farm and never return. I hope opportunity presents itself soon.

  There was an unexpected perimeter breach yesterday; when the landmine blew, it took out the Germ and the fence. Aiden and I are sitting on the porch, watching the men mend the damaged fence. He shakes his head when one of the men cuts his hand on a piece of the barbed wire. “Idiot,” he mutters under his breath.

  “I hope he’s up to date on his tetanus shot,” I say.

  “I don’t.”

  I look at him out of the corner of my eye. “You don’t mean that, Aiden,” I say, hoping I’m right.

  “Yes, I do,” he says. “As soon as they finish arming the mines and reinforcing the fence, I’m turning them out.”

  “Who?”

  “All of them.”

  “Why?” I ask. Though I’ll be happy to see them go, I don’t understand the sudden change in Aiden.

  He shrugs. “We don’t need them. They’re eating all the food, and they’re a liability.”

  “What if they won’t go?”

  He turns to look at me. The light that used to shine in his blue eyes has gone dark. “They won’t have a choice, Alli.”

  I surprise myself by admitting, “Sometimes I feel bad for them.” I look at the men scattered around the farm’s property. “Howard wasn’t an easy leader to live under. He brainwashed them.”

  “Men who allow themselves to be led astray aren’t worth keeping around,” Aiden says.

  “There was a time I thought you were falling victim to Howard’s influence,” I remind him.

  He snor
ts. “I had to pretend to be…enlightened by his nightly prayer circles. If I didn’t, he would have killed me.”

  “He tried to anyway.”

  His lip curls into a snarl. “Yes, he did.” He looks at me and his eyes soften. “But only because I showed my hand when he tried to feed you to the Germ in the basement.”

  I rest my chin on my knees. “I wish we would have never hooked up with them outside of Lowell.”

  “Hindsight’s always been twenty-twenty.”

  “I guess.”

  “You truly are a miracle, Alli,” he says, brushing the side of my face affectionately. “You were sent here to save us.”

  “You sound like Howard, now,” I say with a frown.

  “I’m nothing like Howard,” he says.

  “So, how will I save us?” I ask, steering the conversation back to safer territory.

  He looks at me at smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re the cure, Allyson. If we could figure out how to use it, we could turn everything around.”

  “Donating me to science after all?” I ask, feeling nervous.

  He smiles wider. “No, but I wouldn’t be upset if we happened to find a research lab, abandoned by everyone but one lone, dedicated scientist.” He looks at me and his smile fades. “As long as I could make sure you weren’t harmed in the process.”

  “Why do we need to find a cure, though?” I ask. “What if we just lived the rest of our days at the farm? Wouldn’t that be enough?”

  He shakes his head. “You know it wouldn’t, Alli.”

  “Why not?”

  “What about me? What if we have kids one day, and they’re not immune? What then?” He looks at the broken fence. “We need to find a way to rebuild what’s be taken from us…not they way Howard wanted to rebuild,” he adds quickly. “No, we need to find a way to preserve what’s left and protect what comes.”

  I nod. He’s got a point, but hearing him talk about a shared future, with him, me…kids…it’s all too much. I’m not ready to think about a future with him, or anyone else.