Page 26 of Dearly, Beloved


  “We’re done here.” I had to leave, before I gave in fully to my growing rage. This was not how it was supposed to go. This had been my moment to admire her before I started breaking her will. I could feel my face, my entire body, growing hot.

  “Nuh-uh,” Nora said. “If you have any honor whatsoever, we’re still talking. The man you yourself said you owe is here.” She had the upper hand now, and her features blossomed into a mockery of pretty pleasantness. “Let’s all sit. Shall we?”

  “What?” I almost spat. Sucking a deep breath into my lungs, I did my best to calm myself. I didn’t actually wish to appear cruel to Nora. Not now.

  “Are you sure?” Griswold asked Nora, cutting his eyes at me.

  “Yes,” she told him, returning her eyes to me. “We have to finish this. Sit.”

  And so I sat. I sat down at the maddest tea party ever held. I sat next to the bloody zombie, a chunk of dead flesh in a frilly chair, who looked like he wanted to consume me from the inside out. The feeling was mutual.

  “Let’s get off the topic of us,” Nora said.

  “For the love of all that is holy, yes,” Griswold muttered, leaning his chin on his fingers.

  “What do you know about Lord Edmund Lopez?”

  This question threw me off my guard, and I was grateful for the arrival of the tea. Once the server had poured and disappeared, I asked, “Why?” It seemed completely random.

  “Just tell me.”

  “Colonel Lopez?” I said. “That disgraced old drunk? What could you want with him?”

  “Disgraced? Drunk?” Nora spun her hand in the air, indicating that I should go on.

  I didn’t know what do with my anger when faced with this. Now it was useless, without direction. So, making no effort to mellow my voice, I informed her, “Yes, that disgraced old drunk. He’s never been part of the good set, frankly because he’s refused to be. His brother tried, I know that much, and did manage to rebuild the family fortune and suppress certain truths, but the way he looked—he could never walk about in society. He was a cripple. A deformed freak.” Nora stared at me with troubled eyes, now vulnerable in her wonder. “Not that anything either man could do would ever be enough to redeem the sins of their parents.”

  “What happened?”

  Looking at Griswold, I said, “His parents were Punk sympathizers. After the Reed Massacre, Lord and Lady Lopez had everything stripped from them and were routed south with the lot—as they deserved.”

  Nora looked shocked. Griswold glared at me. “Don’t talk about my people.”

  “It’s historical fact. I’ll talk about them all I bloody want.” I made a mental note to talk about them a lot while I tore him apart.

  “Fine, then I’ll talk about yours. Have you heard of any attacks in the city?” he asked, lowering his hand. “By people wearing bird masks?”

  For a second the wall seemed to ripple behind him. “No. Why?”

  “They’re the ones who bombed the Roes.” He bent his head. “I’m not proud that my people’ve hunted down the dead, but at least they didn’t cover their faces like cowards.”

  “How do you know that?” I heard my voice, though I couldn’t have said my lips moved.

  “She saw them,” Nora said. “And they attacked us, too. Hijacked my aunt’s carriage. Had us at gunpoint. And yet, I still count it as a better outing than this.”

  Oh God, that had been her carriage. That had been her bloody carriage in the middle of a New London chop shop. Some Brothers must have been assigned to get those carriages …

  And they’d threatened Nora. Targeted her, not knowing who she was.

  The idea nearly made me sick. “I’m very sorry to hear that,” I said in a rush, doing my best to hide my emotions within a whirl of words. “I’m glad you’re all right. But this is over now.” I rose, bowed, and walked away before they could say anything more.

  Nora’d been at the end of a gun. Suddenly all I could think of as I shoved my way through the crowd was the white-haired girl’s bleeding face.

  This was madness. I couldn’t have something like that happen to Nora. Nothing physical.

  I’d wanted to kill Griswold. I’d compromised myself, put myself in physical danger, terrorized the city, to kill Griswold. To imagine, that dead thing sitting there, witness to that spectacle … no. I couldn’t allow that to go unpunished.

  But I also couldn’t let the Murder anywhere near her again. The Ratcatcher. No.

  Change of plans. I had to fix this. I had to separate the act of torturing him from the act of teaching her.

  She’d need me once he was gone, after all.

  That night I told myself Mártira’s ghost would speak to me. Tell me how to save people. That maybe I’d created a zombie, but Hagens had created a phantom—one that would undo her. I believed in ghosts, for the dead walked now, and ghosts seemed as possible as anything else.

  But when faced with the light of day, I knew that wouldn’t happen. Mártira and Claudia were gone. The time for stories was over. All that was left was reality.

  As I lay abed thinking, almost everyone else still asleep, Dog entered the tent and approached me. He knelt beside my pallet and pointed to his ear, then back to the tent flap, before aiming two fingers downward and walking them about.

  He’d heard someone outside, I figured. But who …

  Quickly rousing myself, I whispered, “Go back to your blankets.” Dog obeyed, and I found my shawl and made my way outside as quietly as I could. I didn’t know who might be watching me, spying, reporting—only the fact that someone would be. Allende had made that abundantly clear.

  It was early morning and mist still swathed the ground. Yet I immediately saw what had gotten Dog’s attention—and my throat constricted at the sight. Coalhouse was standing at the edge of the field where the partygoers used to park their carriages, his back to the camp. Beside him was an old, beat-up carriage I didn’t recognize. At first I wasn’t sure whether I ought to approach him or not. He’d returned, yes, but … even together, what could we hope to accomplish?

  After a few seconds of indecision I remembered Dog, and knew I had to risk it. I made my way toward Coalhouse. When I was within hearing range I said, “You came back.” He was still facing away from me, and didn’t respond. Moving a little to the side, I caught his attention. “You—”

  “Miss Laura.” He bowed. “Sorry to just show up like this.”

  Shaking my head, I crooked a finger and backed away. He took the hint and followed me. I led him deeper within the tree line, where the undergrowth was so thick the land couldn’t be used, at least not for our purposes. It was dark under the canopy of leaves, and colder.

  After a few minutes he stopped me by grasping my arm. “Where are we going?”

  “Here will work,” I said once I recovered from being taken hold of. I raised my voice, noticing that both his bad eye and his hearing aid were gone. “Where are the others?”

  He frowned. “I’m alone this time. Will be from now on.”

  “But we need supporters. A force to go against Hagens. We need—”

  Coalhouse held up a hand. “Why don’t you tell me what the situation is first. Let’s figure out where we stand.”

  It occurred to me, even as I opened my mouth to speak, that I didn’t know this young man, didn’t know if he could be trusted. But if he wasn’t an ally, at this point—did it even matter? I had nothing to lose save my life, and even that was already gone. The Reaper had already left me behind.

  “My eldest sister, Mártira, was the leader of a gang of thieves and bunkos in New London before the undead came. All sorts … card sharps, burglars. Anyone who wanted a home, someone to look out for them, they split their take with my sister and became part of the group. Mártira used that money to buy food, weapons, protection.” I shut my eyes. “During the Siege many of us were turned into zombies, or killed. Even the children. The house on Ramee Street was overrun. I died there. Under the floorboards.”

&nbsp
; “Jesus.”

  “Afterward, Mártira said we had to work together, band together even more tightly. Start doing right. So we began to take in new zombies, those who didn’t have homes. Zombies from other gangs. Mártira could always put it so beautifully, I’m afraid I can’t, but … but I know she didn’t mean to harm anyone. Not anymore. Just to survive.” My shoulders started to quiver. “Hagens killed her. And Claudia. Right in front of me. Hagens killed my sisters and took over.”

  Before I knew it his huge hand was on my shoulder, steadying me. I looked up into his eye and saw kindness reflected there. At the sight, I couldn’t have controlled my mouth even if I had wanted to. “The leaders are on her side. They don’t like the living. I don’t know what to do. I thought of running away, but I can’t. They’ll find me.”

  The young man’s face was serious. “If I have to, I’ll get you out of here,” he told me as he took his hand back.

  I didn’t dare allow myself to hope. I didn’t dare allow his words to take root in my heart. “Why did you come back alone? Did you tell anyone what I told you?”

  “Yeah. But I need to talk to Hagens,” he said, lifting his head and looking in the direction of the camp. “Some bad stuff’s been happening in town. People here might have something to do with it. And I want to know why she wants the prisoner.”

  “Smoke?” I tried to think of anything more I could share. “We found him in the Morgue about a month ago. He never talked much, but he said his name was Smoke. We didn’t know he was special.”

  “Okay.” Coalhouse’s head bobbed slightly. “What about the masked people in town? They’re targeting the living. You know anything about that?”

  “No. But I wouldn’t put it past her. She ordered the men to go get Smoke without permission … she might’ve sent some into town. She’s like a she-wolf. She can smell weakness, and takes pleasure in stomping it out.”

  “I’ve dealt with her before. I was in the army with her.” The boy sighed. “Look, I have a plan. But I need your help to work it.”

  “Alone? Without your friends?”

  “No,” he said bitterly. “No. It’s better alone.” I answered this with silence, unsure what to say. “I need to convince her I’m on her side. I need to get into her confidence, figure out what exactly people at this camp are doing, if anything. What they plan to do.”

  Suddenly I realized what this fellow was to me. He was a connection to the outside world. “Oh, but I could do that, and tell you what I find out!”

  “No!” Startled by his outburst, I shut up. “I need to do this on my own. It has to be me.”

  Clutching my shawl more tightly about my shoulders, I argued, “But it will only put you in danger. Why not let me do it? I have no friends, aside from Dog and Abuelo. I have nowhere to go.”

  Coalhouse rumbled, “ ’Cause my ‘friends’ treat me like a loser, and I’m sick of it.” He looked down at me again, kindness gone, resolution in its place. “Are you going to help me or not?”

  I had no choice but to throw my lot in with him. “Yes.”

  “Good. Now, I need you to get me in to see Hagens.”

  The very idea of being anywhere around her made me shiver. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ve got news for her. I’m going to act like I’ve abandoned Griswold. Like I’m going rogue.”

  From the direction of the camp I could hear zombies stirring, and knew he might not be able to. “Okay. Wait here.” I swallowed. “And if I don’t come back … get out of here. Promise you’ll go.”

  “Just hurry,” he said as he settled down in the undergrowth.

  Mártira’s tent had been taken over by the leaders, most of whom were still asleep. Only a few were awake and quietly conversing—Hagens, Allende, and “Duke” Rastino, a dark-skinned zombie dressed in a whirlwind of ochre silk and sepia velvet. Rastino looked after all the card sharps and hustlers.

  Allende said something, and the others laughed. As Rastino commented on it, Hagens looked up and saw me lingering in the doorway. “What in the devil’s name are you doing here, you little weed?” she said in that tone of voice that always made me want to crawl up inside my own body and wait for her to go away.

  “There …” I shifted my skirt up, and felt it snag on my roses’ thorns. “There’s someone outside who wants to see you. A newcomer.”

  Hagens glanced at Allende and Rastino. “See? I told you. More will come.”

  “How are they going to find us if we move, though?” asked Allende.

  “They’ll have to. Because we need to get out of here.”

  “He asked for you.” I didn’t know what to say, save the truth. “His name is Coalhouse. He said to tell you he’s left Griswold.”

  Hagens climbed to her feet, instantly angry. “Take me to him. Rastino.” The brightly clad zombie looked up. “Give me your gun.” He did so, and she tucked the pistol into the waistband of her trousers.

  I couldn’t walk, seeing that. Was she just going to shoot him? Was I leading the firing squad right to him?

  “Go,” she said, glaring at me. I couldn’t, and she reached out and shoved me in the chest, almost knocking me over. I released a choking sound, unable even to draw in air to scream with. “What are you waiting for?”

  Gathering my wits about me, I slowly turned and led her out. The sun was starting to burn off some of the fog; the earth seemed far too bright.

  “Where is he?” she demanded.

  “In the woods.” She shoved me again, this time in the back, and I pointed out where I’d left him.

  “Why did he come to you?” She stepped in front of me. “Let’s talk about that first, hmm?”

  “He didn’t.” It seemed to take forever to come up with the words. “I was walking, and I found him. I couldn’t sleep, because of the fires …” The enormity of what they’d done struck me, and I barely choked back a sob. “He said he was waiting for the right time to come to you. That you were right all along.”

  Hagens ran her cold eyes over my face. “You realize if you try anything cute I’ll kill you, right?”

  I nodded blindly, because I did.

  “This doesn’t have to be hard. Your sister was sick. Her priorities were beyond messed up. I gave her chance after chance, and I only killed her because I had to—but she deserved what she got. You play your part, you keep your mouth shut, and everything goes easy for you.” With that she marched beyond me, determinedly heading toward where I’d shown her.

  Terrified, I had no choice but to follow. Oh, God. Was she actually going to kill him?

  Coalhouse looked up when she went crashing through the brush. Before he could say anything, Hagens cocked the gun in her waistband. She lifted it, aiming at him, and his eye widened.

  “Mr. Gates,” Hagens hollered, so loudly I thought she’d wake the whole camp. “Apparently you’re too dumb to know what’s good for you.”

  “I’m not that deaf,” the boy said as he slowly stood up. Showing his hands, he continued to stare at the gun. “Nice to see you, too, Miss Hagens.”

  “I was not lying the night you came here with your gang. You have ten seconds to leave. For your own safety.”

  “So you don’t want to talk about yesterday? The fact that we were the ones to take down your men?” The young man fixed his remaining eye on her even as her expression blackened further. “ ’Cause it was the last time I’ll take orders from Griswo—”

  Lightning fast, Hagens turned her hand just a degree to the left and shot beyond Coalhouse’s shoulder. He ducked reflexively and then looked ashamed for doing so. I gripped my fingers into my leaves. “I’m through playing games. What, did you think you’d come here and we’d exchange some witty banter? That then we’d laugh and hug and I’d welcome you into my crew? I know this is a setup. I know Griswold.”

  Coalhouse recovered, though he looked unnerved. “But it’s true. We had an argument last night and I left. Thought maybe you could use me. So I bought a secondhand carriage this morning
and headed up here.”

  “Sure you’re not just here for the pretty girls with low standards?” Hagens asked, glancing at me. My skin prickled.

  “Look, you don’t have to insult me,” he said, and I could hear real pain in his voice. “If you can’t use me, just tell me, and I’ll find somewhere else to go. But maybe you should listen to what I came here to tell you first.”

  “Entertain me,” Hagens drawled.

  “You guys have to move your camp. The entire thing. And you can’t go back to New London.”

  Hagens lifted a brow. She disarmed the gun with a click and waited for him to continue.

  “When I left Gris, he said he was going to the coppers,” Coalhouse said, holding her gaze. “He recognized one of your girls while we were defending Patient One. We know it was you. Don’t try to pretend.”

  “Hold up. Who’s Patient One?”

  “The prisoner,” Coalhouse said. “The biter they locked up. The one Griswold killed your people to make sure stayed in human control, yeah? And now he’s going to lead the cops right to you. Only reason he held off was because he did send us back here to spy, and he didn’t want any of us taking a bullet. But you guys? He doesn’t give a crap what happens to you. If you go back to New London, he’ll find you.”

  Coalhouse was a superb actor. I had no idea how much of his speech was fact and how much fiction, but I found myself impressed. It was even easy to act shocked. Trying to do my part, I blurted out, “It’s true. They were here last night. I saw them.”

  Hagens seemed to expand with rage, her eyes opening wide, her nostrils flaring. “Oh, were they?”

  “If I were against you, would I tell you guys to move?” the boy asked. “To put some distance between you and the humans? Look, I’ll even help. Then I’ll go back and keep an eye on Gris, make sure he doesn’t try anything else.”

  Hagens thought for a moment, her eyes darting between us, before saying, “No.”

  Coalhouse blinked. “I’m telling the truth!”

  Hagens stepped closer to him. “It doesn’t matter if you are. It doesn’t matter what you saw, and it doesn’t matter what Griswold tries. We’re moving today anyway. Fat lot of good it’ll do, as I know they’ll find us again, but it’s something.”