I spent a restless night tossing and turning in a bed that felt too big, isolated in a cavernous room that threw unfamiliar shadows. As a young child I loved that room, but as an adult, it seemed overwhelming. I missed the cramped space I shared with Alice, but she practically chased me back down the stairs when I tried to follow her.
I awoke to birdsong as the sparrows rose from the hedges and set out to pluck worms from the damp ground. Normally I would jump from bed, don my uniform and rub the sleep from my eyes while I started an endless round of meaningless chores. But today there were no fires to set, no coal to polish, no step-sisters to wait upon, and no tightrope to walk as I waited for someone to pull it out from under my feet.
Instead, I stretched my arms and wiggled my toes, and then stared at the wallpaper. Perhaps a change would help me re-settle into my own room? I couldn't help thinking of it as Louise's room and I expected her to burst in, scream, and chase me out with a broom.
With them gone, our expenses would be slashed; there would be no more ruinous dress bills or useless magazine subscriptions. We could eat for a week on what Elizabeth spent on bobby pins in a year. With some careful budgeting, and once we paid the worst of the outstanding invoices, we could afford a few rolls of new wallpaper.
Then I thought of Alice in the attic space, roasting in summer and frozen in winter. I would rather see my friend in a much better room, with more space for her. Henry had his room in the barn, and Magda and Stewart lived in one of the crofter houses. There was a small cottage at the bottom of the lawn that once belonged to the gardener; we could make that into a tiny home for Alice. Somewhere that would be entirely hers.
Yes, that would be a much better application of any excess funds. A bit of elbow grease would clean out the birds and insects living in the cottage. I made plans to talk to Henry and Stewart about fixing the roof to make it water tight once more. Sturdy wooden shutters on the windows would protect from any vermin that roamed at night. Then we could paint and decorate the inside.
With a plan of action in mind, I rose and dressed in trousers, a linen shirt, and a fitted waistcoat. I needed to keep my mind occupied to stop worrying over Elizabeth. Henry had criss-crossed the countryside the day they left, but failed to find any sign of the two women. It was as though they had simply vanished amongst the ancient trees.
Today we would tackle Elizabeth's room and then the parlour she had turned into a chintz and grinning-cat nightmare. My date at Serenity House also loomed, and I needed to think about a dress to wear for dinner.
My gaze turned to the polished wardrobe. We had packed most of Louise's clothing, but a few of her evening dresses that wouldn't fit in the boxes still hung there. Something in there may do for an appearance at the big house. It wouldn't do to be seen in the same dress twice in the same week.
I needed breakfast first, and then I would tackle my list of jobs and hunt through Elizabeth's room for any lurking dragons. As I walked down the hall, I glanced at her closed door. What would I do if I threw it open and found her within, setting up a nest in our home? What if that was why Henry didn't find her—she had doubled back and slept in her own bed?
I shuddered and hurried past, refusing to humour my fancy by cracking the door open to check. In the kitchen, I drank a cup of tea with one hand while eating toast with the other and pacing back and forth. Not because I had a pile of jobs to do, but because I wanted to see father again. Would a new day see his improvement continue?
The sparkle that returned to his eyes was miraculous. I hadn't been so excited since the day we heard the truck was bringing him and Henry home. We hadn’t cared about their injuries; they were back, safe with us.
I paced the kitchen, waiting for Magda to put the finishing touches to his tray, then she shooed me out with a flick of a tea towel. I bounced up the stairs until the teapot started to rattle and I had to slow my steps, lest I spill hot tea everywhere. No point in making work for myself by being foolish.
Father smiled as I entered his room, and my heart flip-flopped in my chest. Happiness flooded through me, so intense I could almost forgive the catalyst that wrought the change. I placed the breakfast tray over his knees.
"Good morning." I kissed his stubbly cheek. Stewart would be up soon to shave him. I relished the comfort of our pre-war routine.
"Morn'," his voice was heavy, as though his tongue had inflated, but he spoke.
I watched like a nervous mother as he reached out for a piece of toast. I had an overwhelming urge to feed him, but recognised allowing him to do it himself would aid his recovery.
I distracted myself by talking instead. "Today Stewart and Henry will take you downstairs. Much has changed since you left. Three years ago, I spent an enormous amount of money on a new ram to improve our sheep, and I want your opinion of him."
He huffed in gentle laughter and I had to turn my face to wipe away the tears that sprang to my eyes.
"The old ram went feral. With you men off at war he took to the hills, and I couldn't spare the time to hunt him down. It took Henry a week to stalk and trap him. His fleece was so long he looked like an overstuffed mattress."
The huff was accompanied by amusement dancing in his eyes. My soul lightened. All along I had kept the farm together for father, never for her. I was thankful I wouldn't have to explain what happened to step-mother for some time. I would first have to walk father through the influenza pandemic and then explain how the dead arose and returned as vermin. At this point, a push outside in his wheelchair would suffice. The rest would keep for another day.
I read from the newspaper (carefully screening out certain articles) until Stewart rapped on the door, shaving equipment tucked under one arm and a jug of steaming water in the other.
"Ready, sir?" He sat the hot water on the dresser and fetched the bowl.
I left the men to it. Henry would be along once father was shaved and dressed. It would take the two men to carry father down the stairs.
I walked down the hall to the next panelled door. My hand wrapped around the doorknob and I drew a breath before pushing it open.
She had only been gone two days. Everything lay in wait for her return. Her dressing robe was thrown over the screen in the corner. A silk eye mask sat on top of the magazine she had been reading. Her makeup was lined up and waiting on the dressing table.
"Watch out!" Alice called from the hallway.
I turned as Alice and Henry shuffled into the room, carrying a large trunk between them. Henry walked backwards while Alice directed him. They dropped it on the carpet and it made an empty thud. Henry smiled and slipped out the door on his way to help Stewart.
"Where shall we start?" Alice asked.
I looked around at the scattered mementos of my step-mother's life. The woman whose approval I desperately sought, even though I knew it was forever beyond my reach. Only recent events taught me she had no power over me. "Let's fold her clothes in the trunk first. Then we'll sort through the rest."
Alice picked up a sinuous porcelain Siamese with an elongated neck. She waved it in my direction. "More cats for target practice?"
"We seem to have enough to last for some time." A petty thing to shoot at them, but they seemed a symbol of her oppression. Perhaps smashing them would break her final spell over us all.
Like any other day, the hours passed in the blur of work. We left the large trunk until Henry could lend his strength to help haul it up to the attic. Then Alice and I stripped the bed and laid the coverlet back over the bare mattress.
With inside jobs done, I unhooked my katana from its spot behind the kitchen door, and headed outside. I needed to let the wind lift some worries free of my mind, and I wanted to patrol the countryside. Perhaps I’d spot Elizabeth and Louise hiding under a tree or an abandoned croft.
I steered the motorcycle with no direction in mind along one narrow country lane and into another. At times, I opened the throttle and let Trusty shake my joints loose. The wind caught short strands of my hair and whipped them against my face. Then I eased up and the motor idled as I slowed past old cottages with fallen-in roofs and crumbling walls. I sought any signs of life. Or death. Instead I saw feral sheep, startled quail, and a pheasant who made me stop while he ambled across the road, but no trace of Elizabeth.
I was miles from the farm when I decided to admit defeat for the day and return home. Soon the light would fade, and with the hive destroyed, I didn't want to be stumbling around in the dark with lost vermin. I turned onto a dirt track, one that would loop around and re-join the main road before the forest and the path to home.
As I passed green fields with contented grazing stock, I wondered why the vermin attacked humans and not animals? Did you need an undead sheep to make other undead sheep? I pondered if something about the virus made it species specific.
One farmer had made a late hay cut, and his paddock of short, golden ends was a burst of colour in the tapestry of greens. Tall stacks of hay dotted the field, waiting for the cart and team of horses to haul it back to a dry barn. A pair of lovers chased each other around the hay piles.
I smiled at their antics. It was sweet to see glimpses of romance when we lived surrounded by horror. I was half way down the road when my brain yelled STOP! My subconscious recognised something I hadn't placed at a casual glance. The motorbike's wheels spun in the dirt as I kicked it into a tight one hundred and eighty degree turn and sped back to the paddock.
The bike idled at a rough purr as I scanned the field. There was the couple, peeking at each other around a stack. What had triggered my alert? I narrowed my gaze as they wandered around a mound; one going left, the other right. A slight delay interrupted their movements, followed by a jerk as though their limbs were controlled by an unseen hand.
I switched off the motor. That was when I noticed the silence. If Seth chased me around a haystack there would be laughter and the occasional squeal. These two, while they appeared man and woman, enacted a charade of a romantic interlude. Studied closely, it was less chase and more chaotic shambling, as though they were lost.
I climbed over the stone wall, pulled the handkerchief up over my mouth and nose, and then drew my sword. A tiny part of me thought all vermin would spontaneously disappear once we destroyed the hive. Of course I was wrong, but hope had glimmered in my heart. At least I could dispatch these two and leave two fewer for Elizabeth to recruit.
As I crossed the field, other details confirmed my suspicion. While these two were relatively fresh, the man's left ear had detached and slid down to stick to the side of his neck. Exposed bone poked through the woman’s right arm. They both had the same blind, milky gaze, and their clothing was dirty and torn.
They stopped and scented the air as I approached. Both snarled. Bloodless lips pulled back over teeth in a grimace as their heads swung in my direction. With only two, I wasn't worried, I just needed to pay attention and make sure neither crept out of my line of sight.
"Let's make this quick and easy," I muttered as I considered my attack.
The female was approximately the same size as me and presented a lesser threat, so I would deal with her undead companion first. The larger one who used to be a man growled and lunged, his hands outstretched to scratch at me. I skipped to one side and brought the sword down. His forearm and hand continued to crawl toward me, but the rest of him stopped.
"How rude," I said as I kicked the limb to one side.
The smaller one circled behind her fallen wounded comrade. I turned to keep them both in view, but I ran into an eight-foot problem with the hay stack. She lurched around the obstacle, as though running away from me and out of view. I could catch her easily enough. Better to deal with him and reduce my number of problems.
With one arm missing, he became agitated and flailed the stump. Fat, congealed globs of his diseased blood fell to the grass like pigeon droppings. He roared, a rusty sound, and lunged at me again.
I knew the steps to this dance, and I was far more practiced. I dropped under his outstretched one-and-a-half arms and rose behind him. One hard thrust severed head from body. The head rolled down the gentle slope of the ground. Movement caught the corner of my eye.
The once-female vermin had clambered up the haystack and launched herself at me from above. She had the grace of a leaping ostrich trying to fly.
I ducked and rolled. As my back hit the ground I thrust up with the katana, catching the vermin in the mid-air and slicing up through its stomach and breastbone. The creature emitted a high-pitched shriek, not unlike a monstrous bird calling out, and then it fell straight to the cut grass.
Its limbs tore up loose hay as it scrabbled to right itself. Rotten viscera spilled from its torso as it struggled to its feet. That dress was completely ruined. Before it could re-orient itself, I stepped forward and swung at its neck. The head fell to one side even as the body lurched toward me.
I hated the next bit as I waited for the bodies and dismembered pieces to stop their jerky movements. Limbs shouldn't crawl around once separated. That always reminded me how this unnatural plague violated the laws of God and Nature.
Some newspaper articles spoke of this being a work of evil, as though some unseen hand had raised legions of demons to blight us. As I watched the severed hand and forearm creep toward my ankle like a monstrous spider, I wondered if those reporters were right.
Reaching into my jacket pocket, I pulled out a notebook and a pencil to take what notes I could of the two. I jotted down a description of their physical appearance and clothing. One of the fingers that inched toward me bore a wedding ring. Were they a married couple, or had they met after death?
The notebook went back into my pocket and I cast around for a suitable spot to burn the remains. I didn't want to risk setting fire to the hay, which meant I would have to drag them down to the greener road edge. This was the bit that made me nervous, picking up legs and having my back to the rest of the vermin parts. I waited another five minutes to make sure they had stopped moving before I dragged them bit by bit to the roadside.
Then I had to go find heads. I had learned not to pick them up by the hair, even though that was easier. The scalps had a tendency to slough off in my grip and leave me clutching hair and nothing else. I placed my hands by the ears, well away from gnashing teeth in case the bodiless head wasn't quite done yet.
The light had faded by the time I had two bodies, two heads, and a wayward forearm stacked on the verge between stonewall and road. From the back of Trusty the Triumph, I grabbed a fuel can. I doused the dead flesh, stood well clear and tossed on a match. Thick black smoke soon spiralled up to the darkening sky. I kept my face turned away; I didn't want to inhale the sickly scent even through the handkerchief.
To make sure no stray spark caught the loose hay still on the ground, I settled in to watch. A truck rumbled around the corner and pulled to a stop a safe distance from the pyre. Painted a dark khaki, it resembled the one that returned father and Henry.
Two soldiers climbed from the cab—Jake and Jack, the unnerving twins who were first to explore the burial mound containing the hive.
"Need a hand, Miss Jeffrey?" one of the identical men asked me.
"It was just the two. I found them wandering around the haystacks as though they were lost." I rose from the grass and brushed myself off.
"Like bees who have lost their hive, they'll go around in circles until they find a new queen." One of the twins stared into the flames.
"We can mind this, if you like? We have more fuel in the truck if need be or water cans if it spreads too far." The other grinned and gestured at the vehicle.
"Do you mind terribly? I'd love to get home before dark." The bath called. I needed to scrub vermin odour from my body before I could relax and unwind from the rush of sending them back to the other realm.
"Captain deMage has us out patrolling this area until after dark, it's all part of a day's duty." I couldn't tell who spoke, Jack or Jake. I wondered if even their mother could tell them apart.
Of course the highly efficient and organised Seth would have his soldiers out patrolling. What changes would his touch bring to our corner of Somerset?
"Thank you, lads." I hated watching the bodies break down into charred skeletons. With a wave at the two soldiers, I kicked Trusty into action and pointed the motorcycle for home.