The Torn World: The Harvesting Series Book 5 Page 4

  “Doing what?” Zoey asked.

  “Learning to keep us safe,” Logan said with a smile.

  CHAPTER 11: AMELIA

  “CAN YOU SEE THE GATE?” MADAME KNIGHTLY asked as we stood on the driveway just outside of Witch Wood.

  “One second,” I said, then looked hard, trying to see past the enchantment. I knew it was there. Today, however, it was nearly impossible to see.

  “Still trying to see it with your eyes?” Madame Knightly asked me tartly then chuckled. “Try to see what only you can see, my dear.”

  “I can sense it,” I said, lifting my left hand. “I can feel it, the energy brushing against mine.”

  “Yes,” Madame Knightly said. “That’s right.”

  The gate felt different. Before, its vibration had just felt off. Now, it felt deeper, further away. “I keep trying to feel it, but I just can’t break past the illusion hiding it.”

  “That’s because there is no illusion hiding it,” Madame Knightly said.

  I lowered my hand and turned and looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Can you sense Witch Wood? Is it still there?”

  “Yes.”

  Madame Knightly nodded then joined me, threading her arm through mine. “Do you remember the story of King Arthur and the Isle of Apples?”

  I tilted my head. “The story of Avalon?”

  She nodded slowly.

  “When King Arthur died, Morgana moved the island, sank it into the mists, away from the human realm, to protect Arthur and the mysteries of Avalon.”

  Madame Knightly nodded. “There is no enchantment here, my dear. To the human eye, Witch Wood no longer exists.”

  “But I feel it.”

  “Yes, you do. You do. But Witch Wood isn’t here.”

  “Then where is it?”

  “Oh, just left a bit,” Madame Knightly said, laughing lightly, “for lack of a better way to explain it. I moved it.”

  “To where?”

  “The otherworld.”

  “Your world? The world of the fae?”

  “No, not into our world either, just…in the middle.”

  “How? How did you do it?”

  Madame Knightly nodded. “That’s what you must learn, to see the shadow world and live in it. It is old magic.” Madame Knightly smiled and patted my hand. “Now, the trick is,” she said, pointing where the gate should be, “knowing that it’s not hidden. No matter how hard you look, you will not see the gate because it’s not in this world. You must loosen yourself, let the magic inside you feel the otherworld. It’s like having a hard shiver, and there you are. You must see. See what others cannot, and trust your mind’s eye in all things, Amelia. Your mind’s eye sees the world just beyond this one. And everything in that world is real, just as real as the light you have seen around others all your life.”

  “Even if I can see, how can I lead others through the space?”

  “All you have to do is believe. The others don’t need to see. They just need to believe in you. Now. Let’s go back. Go ahead,” she said, motioning to the misty abyss where the gate should have been.

  “Are you asking me to believe in you?” I asked then, smiling wryly at Madame Knightly.

  “Oh, my clever girl. Of course I am, but,” she said then paused, nodding toward the gate, “but in this moment, it is you who must believe. You must believe in yourself, in what you have known all along.”

  “That there is more to our world, more just outside common vision,” I said, staring at the space where the gate should be.

  “Yes.”

  “That there are more worlds, more magic in this life, than the human eye can see.”

  “Yes.”

  “And that I was born seeing it,” I said with a whisper. And then, I was suddenly struck with an odd feeling. A tremor moved down my body, shaking me from head to toe. And in that moment, I felt the air around me shift and clear. All the energy, the auras around everything became vivid. It was like the world was alive with light. I could see Witch Wood, its energy, its…life. And the moment I saw that, the mists fell. Once more, Madame Knightly and I were standing before the gate. Behind us was a thick mist, the veil between the real world and this strange space. My skin rose in goosebumps.

  Madame Knightly clasped her hands together. “Well done.”

  I smiled.

  “I suppose the others will be getting ready to go out. You must go with them.”

  “Of course.”

  “Very good,” she said then pushed open the gate.

  I passed behind her then paused to close the gate behind us.

  “Tomorrow, we’ll practice again,” Madame Knightly said. And with a blink of blinding light, she shifted once more into the form of Bastet. Meowing once at me, she turned and trotted back toward the house.

  I shook my head.

  This was going to take some getting used to.

  CHAPTER 12: LAYLA

  I STEPPED OUTSIDE INTO the crisp morning air. Inside the shed, I found gardening and farming equipment, including modern tractors and old hand-held plows. There was enough equipment in the barn to run a small village. And from the looks of things, that’s how the residents had been living. The greenhouse was full of seedlings, and the fields nearby had already been tilled.

  Leaving the door open to let the light and air in, I scanned for the supplies, finally finding oil for my blade. I sat down at the old whetstone, large and suitable for grinding axes, and began working on my shashka.

  How many nights did I sit in my Georgetown apartment, staring out the window and caring for my blade? It was my link to the past. It was the only thing I’d taken with me from Hamletville except my memories and the ink on my arm. It was a skill that, in the end, had kept me alive. But just me. Not Grandma. Not Ian. Not Jamie. Just me. Where was the justice in that?

  When I was done, I slid the blade back into the scabbard and rose. I felt cold in my long-sleeved shirt. Spring had come again. I shook my head. If we had just stayed in Hamletville, everything would have turned out so differently.

  “Layla? You ready?” Logan called.

  Logan, Amelia, Zoey, Chase, and Darius crossed the lawn toward me.

  I smiled when I saw Chase. “Vella let you go this time?”

  “Yeah, she said Brighton would be okay. Took a little convincing though. We wanted to make sure you had enough muscle. Kellimore and Tom rounded up all the guns. We’ve got a list of what we need.”

  “Thank you,” I said with a smile then turned to Darius. “You slipped out too?”

  “Can’t let my ‘cuz have all the fun,” he said, grinning at Chase.

  “Zoey said you need syringes,” Amelia said carefully. “There should be some at my house. My stepdad was diabetic.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  “Hour walk,” Zoey said. “We’ll try to grab a car in town.”

  “Slow and easy,” Logan added. “We don’t know what state we’ll find Brighton in. The undead will be around, and we don’t want any of the kitsune to discover us.”

  “Awesome,” Zoey said, and then I saw her pull a handgun from the back of her jeans. “Three shots left.”

  At this point, I had no idea where my guns had gone.

  “I’m packing,” Chase said, turning to Amelia. “How about you?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about her,” Zoey replied, shooting Amelia a glance, but she didn’t elaborate.

  Chase, Darius, and I exchanged looks. Just what we needed, another wild card.

  We headed down the driveway to the old gate enclosing Witch Wood. Amelia opened the gate, and we stepped outside into the foggy morning air. It must have been almost noon. I was surprised to see how the mist lingered. But then I noticed it was only lingering outside the gate, not inside.

  “You’ve got it?” Logan asked Amelia quietly.

  “I think so,” she whispered.

  When I turned back to see what they were talking about, I was confused.

  The g
ate was gone. The estate was gone.

  Logan and Amelia were standing in front of…nothing. The girl was concentrating hard, Logan watching her. I heard her whisper something just under her breath then silver light shimmered where the gate had been, and a chilly breeze swept through.

  “Okay,” Amelia said, exhaling deeply. “Okay, I think I’ve got it.”

  “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Chase whispered to Darius.

  “If you’re not seeing anything, then we are seeing the same thing,” Darius replied.

  “Layla?” Chase asked.

  I squinted hard. I could feel the place, I just couldn’t quite see it. “I…I’m not sure.”

  “All right, then,” Chase said, shaking his head.

  “It’s…good, right?” Zoey asked. “Can you—”

  “I can get us back in,” Amelia answered.

  “Let’s go,” Logan said, and we headed down the road.

  “How did you do that?” Chase asked Amelia. “The whole place. The walls, the building, they’re just gone.”

  “It’s like an enchantment,” she explained.

  “It’s how we’ve stayed safe all this time,” Logan said.

  “What about you guys? Where were you all this time?” she asked, turning to Chase and Darius.

  “We found our way to Claddagh-Basel College with Tristan’s help. We were there almost since the beginning. Found Elle and Kellimore there.”

  “What about you, Layla?” Zoey asked.

  “We were in our hometown. We had things locked down, but we were tricked. Some people offered us shelter at an island in the Great Lakes. We went. It was a trap. They brought us there…as food.”

  “The night walkers,” Logan said.

  “Yes. My people killed their queen. Some came to Claddagh-Basel. Jamie and I figured out how to change them back into their human form. The blood, such as it is, of the undead restores them back to their natural state, their natural age, which destroys them.”

  “Jamie…he was your boyfriend?” Amelia asked gently.

  “Yes,” I replied quietly, mindful of the ring in my pocket. It had just felt too strange to continue to wear it. The hope the ring stood for was now shattered.

  * * *

  Brighton sat in a little valley between rolling mountains. Zoey led us down a back road at the edge of town. Tall weeds grew out of cracks in the pavement. We kept quiet. Soon we found a vantage point slightly above the town that gave us a good scope of the streets. There we could see a few undead wandering aimlessly. They were in a heavy state of decay.

  “You remember my dad’s friend, Moonshine Pete?” Zoey asked Amelia.

  “The guy who used to ride a bike around town with a cooler strapped to the front?”

  “That’s the one. He had lots of guns.”

  “If he’s still alive, the chances of us getting shot are relatively high,” Amelia said.

  “Yeah, there is that. But he knew me, for better or worse. Always liked to squeeze my ass when my dad wasn’t looking. His place is down on Second. We can stop there, drop by the Feed and Supply shop, see if there is anything left, then head to your place.”

  Amelia nodded.

  “You know to aim for the head, right?” Chase said to Zoey.

  “Yeah, figured that out the hard way,” she told him with a wink. “Ready?”

  We nodded.

  Zoey led the way. As we wove silently down a side street, I couldn’t help but notice how the town looked untouched. It was like the world had just stopped. Cars still sat in driveways. Bikes were ditched in yards. When the virus came, it must have swept over the town quickly. If that was the case, chances were good that many of the residents were still inside their homes and probably not alive anymore. In Hamletville, our system of clearing out the houses had worked well and kept the town safe. The people of Ulster had done much the same. But Brighton was different. The world had died overnight here.

  Motioning for us to stop, Zoey peered around the side of a building then came back.

  “Well, we’ve got a problem,” she reported.

  “What?” Chase whispered.

  Zoey put her finger on her lips and motioned for us to listen.

  When we did, we could hear the groans of the undead. From the sounds of it, there were a lot of them.

  I moved slowly around Zoey and peered out. We were across the street from a two-story house with faded white paint. The house was completely surrounded by chain-link fence. Inside the fence, someone had created a system of elaborate holding pens. Inside those pens were the undead. My eyes quickly scanned the place. Whoever Moonshine Pete was, he’d created a fortress to protect himself. Heaps of undead corpses laid piled just outside the front door. The undead inside the pens were heavily decayed. The gate blocking off the walkway was closed.

  “I think it’s secure. The undead are locked up,” I said then stepped out.

  “Oh my Goddess,” Amelia whispered when she saw the sight.

  “Must be twenty or more,” Zoey said.

  “How are we going to get through?” Darius asked.

  “We don’t. Can’t risk it,” Logan said.

  “If you need to go back to Claddagh-Basel, you need to be ready. You sure he’s got guns?” Chase asked.

  Zoey nodded.

  “Let’s have a look,” I said then made my way toward the property. A rusted chain kept the gate closed. With a heave, I dropped my blade on the chain. It felt to the ground with a clunk.

  “Oh,” Amelia said, covering her nose.

  “Now, that’s a smell,” Zoey added.

  “Breathe through your mouth,” Chase told them.

  I scanned the undead. “Anyone? Is there anyone here?” I called with my mind. There was no one, nothing but a bunch of rotted corpses. The undead pressed their pulpy, decaying faces against the chain linked fence. Flesh melted off them.

  “When you get the syringes, we can come back here. They’re all penned up,” Darius said.

  “Actually, that won’t be necessary,” I said, and with a quick wave of my sword, chopped off one of their hands. I picked it up by the finger, looked it over, and then dropped it again. “Maybe not. Too dry.”

  “I might be sick,” Zoey said.

  Logan shook his head. “We never saw anything after the first days.”

  “Be ready to haul ass, and don’t get bit,” Darius told him.

  I suddenly wished we’d brought more muscle. I knew Chase and Darius had my back, but the others were ripe to the hell the world had become.

  We moved toward the porch when Amelia suddenly reached out and stopped me. “Wait,” she said. She scanned the house.

  “Amelia?” Logan asked.

  “Something is…off,” she said

  “Pete,” Zoey called. “Pete? You in there?”

  My eyes spotted movement in the house. In an upstairs window, an undead man pressed himself against the glass. His mouth was open wide.

  “There,” Amelia said, pointing.

  “Well, there’s Pete,” Zoey said.

  “Should we expect anyone else at home?” Darius asked.

  “No. He didn’t have anyone.”

  Moving past the heap of corpses, we made our way to the front door.

  “Well, looks like we won’t be going in this way,” Zoey said, pulling a piece of paper off the door.

  “To whom it may concern. If you can read this, I’m dead. One of those assholes bit me today. The first floor is wired with explosives. If you want what I got, better start climbing. And when you’re up here, please shoot my sorry ass,” Zoey read.

  “Well, that was thoughtful,” Chase said.

  Zoey shoved her gun in the back of her jeans again. “All right, Pete,” she said, grabbing the rail of the porch and heaved herself up. Grabbing for a handhold, she grasped the edge of the roof and pulled herself over, throwing her body onto the roof of the porch.

  I saw Chase raise his eyebrows in appreciation then pass Darius a knowing glance. Da
rius nodded.

  “The roof is rotted. Come slow,” she told us.

  “Why don’t you and Amelia stay here,” I said to Logan. “It will be easier to drop the guns down to someone, assuming we find them.”

  “All right,” Logan said. “Okay, Amelia?”

  “Yeah,” she said absently, staring out at the undead caged up in the pens.

  With that, I followed Zoey.

  “Here,” Chase said, boosting me.

  I moved slowly across the roof toward a hallway window. Chase and Darius followed carefully behind.

  “He’s loose in there, but we shouldn’t shoot if we don’t have to,” I said.

  Zoey nodded.

  “Cricket lent me this. For close encounters,” Chase said then, unsheathing the machete he had strung to his belt.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  I turned my face as Darius smashed out the window pane with the butt of his rifle.

  The noise echoed across the silent valley.

  “Better keep an eye out for company now,” I said, noticing that the undead below were even more riled up.

  From inside, we heard a ruckus as Moonshine Pete shambled toward us, practically throwing himself out the window.

  “Back,” I motioned to the others, and the second he poked his head out, I swung.

  His severed head rolled off the roof, smashing onto the concrete sidewalk like someone had dropped a watermelon, brains and goo splashing everywhere.

  “Sorry, Pete,” Zoey called.

  “Well, he won’t be grabbing anyone’s ass again,” Chase said.

  Zoey smirked.

  Pushing the rest of Pete’s corpse out of the way with my boot, I went inside. The house smelled putrid. The scent of decay, locked up behind closed windows, was horrid. Coupled with what must have been fecal remains and rotted food, I had to swallow hard.

  “Remember, breathe through your mouth,” Chase reminded Zoey who suddenly looked a bit green.

  “This way,” she said then, waving us toward the room where we’d first seen Pete. Inside, we found exactly what we were looking for.

  “All right now,” Chase said.

  On a long table, Pete had been making shotgun shells. Guns lined almost every wall, including several automatics. And once again, I found grenades. They were more modern than those Grandma had procured, but they were grenades nonetheless.