him.
“What have you done?” he asked. He heard her taking slow, careful steps out of the trailer behind him.
And then he felt a blazing point of pain erupt between his shoulder blades.
Cain reacted on instinct. He swung as he turned, lashing out with both fists. They connected with Eleanor’s skull and sent her crashing to the ground.
He watched in horror as she fell.
The dry ligaments that barely held her together snapped free when she struck. A horrible shriek filled the air—one leg was twisted underneath her, her spine was twisted at an impossible angle, and her face was screwed up with pain. She shouldn’t have been able to hurt. Scott told him that zombies didn’t feel things the way live humans did.
“No!” Cain cried. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Failure,” Eleanor hissed through her gritted teeth. Her eye glistened at him in the moonlight. “ Failure. ”
His protests fell into silence as he stared at the broken fragments of his mother. Any living human in that state wouldn’t have been able to speak. Yet even now, she stared at him with hate.
Calm settled over him, and a grim certainty that robbed him of his panic.
“You’re just having a bad day,” he said gently, even as his heart was breaking. “I know that the Greshams have Scott. When we kill them all at the wedding tomorrow, he’ll fix you. But for now, you’re… you’re unwell , Mother.”
She hissed and wailed as he carefully picked up the pieces of her body, took her behind the mobile home, and placed her inside the trunk of his car. Her body fit in there neatly, folded in half.
“You animal bastard,” Eleanor said.
Cain shuddered. Wiped his cheeks dry.
“I’ll fix you, Mother,” he promised, voice a low whisper.
He slammed the trunk shut.
The rising sun broke over the horizon, glowing through a crack in the clouds.
Just a couple more hours to the wedding now.
E LEVEN
To Have and to Hold
The phone rang six times, and then clicked over to voicemail—the exact same way that it had the last twelve times Seth tried to call.
He swallowed against the lump in his throat as he heard the recording of his brother’s voice.
“This is Abel. Leave a message.”
Beep .
Seth had hung up every other time he called, but he was out of time. The wedding was due to start in an hour. He couldn’t keep hoping for Abel to answer.
“Hey, man,” he said, clearing his throat as he paced in his bedroom at the Gresham Ranch. “This is—it’s me. We’ve got to talk. I keep trying to reach you, but…”
But what? Seth sighed.
“I’m marrying Rylie today. I was hoping you’d be here, but I understand why you’re not answering, and why you wouldn’t want to come.”
Could he leave it at that? It didn’t feel like enough. There were still a thousand more things that he wanted to say.
“I wasn’t bluffing,” Seth said. It came out before he could even think to stop himself. “When I called Scott at the California sanctuary, and asked him to let you know that I love you. It wasn’t a bluff. I do love you, bro. And I don’t think I’ve told you that enough. I hope you’ll come back soon.”
Feeling strange and awkward, Seth hung up. He set the phone on his table and stared at it.
It had been almost a week since he last heard from Abel. Every day hurt a little more than the one before. He thought that they were friends, as well as brothers—and good enough friends that they wouldn’t let something like a girl get between them.
“I guess I was wrong,” he muttered, facing the mirror.
Seth was already in his rented tuxedo. He wore a white suit with a red vest underneath. It matched the theme of the wedding—Gwyn had given him the vest with a wink and told him that he would match Rylie somehow.
The bowtie hung loose around his neck. He had already tried, and failed, to get it to tie about a hundred times.
“One hundred and one times is the charm,” he said, working on the knot again.
There was a brief
“What have you done?” he asked. He heard her taking slow, careful steps out of the trailer behind him.
And then he felt a blazing point of pain erupt between his shoulder blades.
Cain reacted on instinct. He swung as he turned, lashing out with both fists. They connected with Eleanor’s skull and sent her crashing to the ground.
He watched in horror as she fell.
The dry ligaments that barely held her together snapped free when she struck. A horrible shriek filled the air—one leg was twisted underneath her, her spine was twisted at an impossible angle, and her face was screwed up with pain. She shouldn’t have been able to hurt. Scott told him that zombies didn’t feel things the way live humans did.
“No!” Cain cried. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Failure,” Eleanor hissed through her gritted teeth. Her eye glistened at him in the moonlight. “ Failure. ”
His protests fell into silence as he stared at the broken fragments of his mother. Any living human in that state wouldn’t have been able to speak. Yet even now, she stared at him with hate.
Calm settled over him, and a grim certainty that robbed him of his panic.
“You’re just having a bad day,” he said gently, even as his heart was breaking. “I know that the Greshams have Scott. When we kill them all at the wedding tomorrow, he’ll fix you. But for now, you’re… you’re unwell , Mother.”
She hissed and wailed as he carefully picked up the pieces of her body, took her behind the mobile home, and placed her inside the trunk of his car. Her body fit in there neatly, folded in half.
“You animal bastard,” Eleanor said.
Cain shuddered. Wiped his cheeks dry.
“I’ll fix you, Mother,” he promised, voice a low whisper.
He slammed the trunk shut.
The rising sun broke over the horizon, glowing through a crack in the clouds.
Just a couple more hours to the wedding now.
E LEVEN
To Have and to Hold
The phone rang six times, and then clicked over to voicemail—the exact same way that it had the last twelve times Seth tried to call.
He swallowed against the lump in his throat as he heard the recording of his brother’s voice.
“This is Abel. Leave a message.”
Beep .
Seth had hung up every other time he called, but he was out of time. The wedding was due to start in an hour. He couldn’t keep hoping for Abel to answer.
“Hey, man,” he said, clearing his throat as he paced in his bedroom at the Gresham Ranch. “This is—it’s me. We’ve got to talk. I keep trying to reach you, but…”
But what? Seth sighed.
“I’m marrying Rylie today. I was hoping you’d be here, but I understand why you’re not answering, and why you wouldn’t want to come.”
Could he leave it at that? It didn’t feel like enough. There were still a thousand more things that he wanted to say.
“I wasn’t bluffing,” Seth said. It came out before he could even think to stop himself. “When I called Scott at the California sanctuary, and asked him to let you know that I love you. It wasn’t a bluff. I do love you, bro. And I don’t think I’ve told you that enough. I hope you’ll come back soon.”
Feeling strange and awkward, Seth hung up. He set the phone on his table and stared at it.
It had been almost a week since he last heard from Abel. Every day hurt a little more than the one before. He thought that they were friends, as well as brothers—and good enough friends that they wouldn’t let something like a girl get between them.
“I guess I was wrong,” he muttered, facing the mirror.
Seth was already in his rented tuxedo. He wore a white suit with a red vest underneath. It matched the theme of the wedding—Gwyn had given him the vest with a wink and told him that he would match Rylie somehow.
The bowtie hung loose around his neck. He had already tried, and failed, to get it to tie about a hundred times.
“One hundred and one times is the charm,” he said, working on the knot again.
There was a brief
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