Massacre at Lonesome Ridge: A Zombie Western by Samantha Warren Page B

David had purchased from a neighbor.
    The sun went down and the night grew dark. Charity sighed. She missed the constant light of the city. The night here was so dark, so quiet. She would wake in the middle of the night to nothing, the sound of absolute silence. She had never been a fearful child, but as she stared out into the blackness surrounding them, her heart sped up. Anything could lurk in the dark, waiting to prey on someone as innocent as she was.
    She shuddered and turned from the window. Soft sounds echoed from the kitchen. Isabelle was cleaning up and preparing for the next day. David had not yet returned to the house. With a snort of irritation, Charity stomped upstairs. She got her nightclothes on and let her hair down, then she climbed into bed and snuggled down under the covers.
    Her thoughts and dreams swirled together in a confusing mess that alternately left her with feelings of fear, anger, and hate. She woke sometime later in blackness. David was still gone. Voices floated to her from outside. Her room was on the side of the house near the barns, so she crawled from bed and looked out. Torches blazed over near the corral. She saw shadows moving around. A lot of them.
    She pulled on a shawl and padded carefully downstairs. Isabelle was there, crouched behind the door. She jumped and squeaked as Charity came up behind her. Her eyes were wide and the light from the torches flickered in them.
    The young woman pressed a finger to her lips. "I think it's bandits, m'lady."
    "Bandits?" Charity leaned against the window frame and peered out into the shadows. Bodies milled about, but there was no yelling or gunfire. "They don't look like bandits. I'm going to find out what's going on."
    "No, miss, don't!" Isabelle grabbed her arm and tried to pull her back, but Charity swatted at her hand and narrowed her eyes until the hand released its grip.
    She yanked open the door and stepped onto the porch. Her heart sped up and tried to jump into her throat, but she forced herself to move forward. A shadow broke away from the area near the corral and walked quickly toward her.
    It was David. "Go back into the house, Charity." His face was pale in the limited light. Something dark stained his shirt but she couldn't see what it was from that distance.
    "David--"
    "Go back in the house." He didn't shout, but his voice carried a commanding tone that Charity had never heard before.
    Hurt and shame flooded over her. Her mouth worked for a few seconds before she turned and ran back to the house. She slammed the door open and Isabelle jumped back just in time.
    "Go to bed," Charity snarled as she stomped to the stairs. She ripped the shawl off her shoulders and threw it in the corner. She climbed back into bed and fumed while trying to fight back the tears that threatened to overtake her. She fell asleep listening to the voices outside.
    She woke hours later. A lantern burned on a table in the corner, casting an eerie glow around the room. Charity stretched and rolled over.
    David sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her. He was still dressed in the clothes he had been wearing the day before and smelled terrible.
    "David?"
    He didn't move. In the dark, she couldn't even see him breathe. Her own breath quickened along with her heart as she leaned forward. She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed gently.
    "David, darling, are you all right?"
    He finally moved as she pulled at him. His head tilted to the side to stare at her hand, then he slowly spun it around. His eyes were dull, not the vibrant blue they normally were. Something black and shiny marred his beautiful face and stained his lips. She raised her hand to his cheek and brushed at it. Her fingers came away wet and in the candlelight, she saw they were dark red. The color of blood.
    She jerked her hand away and scooted toward the other side of the bed. "David? What's going on," she whispered in a voice that was tight and terrified.
    His mouth worked slowly as he