Death's Children (Book 3): Lucy's Chance Read online

  Lucy watched as her mother unwound the bandage and almost got sick when she saw the gaping black hole. It smelled. Her nostrils twitched. The smell reminded her of something. Her brain clicked on the source. Mr. Burn's smelled like the monsters did. “Is he one of them now?”

  Her mother's head snapped up. “What? One of them? Don't be ridiculous, Lucy. He's just hurt that's all.”

  Lucy nodded, a little reassured. Her mother knew better than she did. The adults always did.

  “Where are the other monsters?” she asked, her eyes drifting toward the front of the shop. Where before, sick people had clamored to come in, now it was empty. The barricades had been removed, and the chain unlatched.

  Eleanor waved it off. “Jared was right. After a while, they wandered off when they didn't see or hear anything. We were about to check outside when he fell ill. Here, sponge his forehead. He's burning up.”

  Lucy took the wet cloth her mother handed her and placed it on Mr. Burn's hot skin. He mumbled but didn't wake up. “What...what if he dies?”

  Her mother finished washing the wound and wrapped it up again before she sat back on her haunches. “Honestly? I don't know, sweetheart.”

  It was the first time Lucy had ever seen her mother look scared. “Mommy?”

  “Yes?”

  “I...I'm sorry about what I said before. I don't hate you.”

  Eleanor sighed and wiped a bloody hand across her forehead. It left a smear of crimson behind, and Lucy hated to see it there. “No, I'm sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn't have said what I did.”

  Lucy looked at her hands and nodded. “It's okay.”

  She was startled when she felt soft fingertips brushing her cheek and looked up into her mother's earnest blue eyes. “No, Lucy. It's not okay. I'm not sorry you were born. I love you more than anything in the whole world. It's just...”

  “Yes?”

  “I've been lonely for so long. Lonely and angry and bitter. You're father and I were never meant to be. We were too young to get married. Young and stupid.”

  “But Daddy loves you.” Lucy's brow furrowed in confusion as she tried to understand what her mother meant.

  Eleanor shook her head. “Maybe he did, sweetheart, once, but I was never enough. You, though. You were everything to him, and I guess I got a little jealous.”

  Lucy's shoulders began to shake with repressed emotion, and Eleanor opened her arms. With a sob, she crawled onto her mother's lap, finally getting the love she craved. “I miss him. I miss Daddy. He tried...he tried to hurt me. Why did he do that?”

  Eleanor's arms enfolded her and held her while she cried, rocking back and forth. “It's all right, sweetheart. Your father was sick. He didn't want to hurt you. Not really. The illness made him do it.”

  Lucy bawled into her mother's breast, her nostrils filled with the scent of lavender. “Why?”

  “I don't know, sweetie. I don't know, but I'm still here, and I'll take care of you. I promise.” Her mother smoothed a soft hand over her hair. “I won't let anything hurt you ever again.”

  Chapter 6

  For a long time, Lucy sat on her mother's lap. She drew on Eleanor's strength and soaked up the comfort and love she offered like a dry sponge thrown into a bucket of water. It was only when her mother stiffened that Lucy looked up. “What's wrong?”

  “Jared. He's not breathing.”

  Lucy twisted around to gaze at Mr. Burns with new terror in her heart. He lay still, his chest unmoving. A blue tinge surrounded his lips.

  “Oh, my,” Eleanor gasped as she hurriedly set Lucy aside.

  Lucy scrambled backward and watched as her mother fussed over Mr. Burns. She slapped his cheeks, pressed on his chest, and even blew air into his lungs. Nothing helped. He didn't move. After a minute, she shook her head. “It's too late. I can't help him.”

  “He's dead?” Lucy didn't want to believe it. She'd seen so much death already that she didn't want to see any more. In one day, she'd experienced a lifetime of horror, and her mind struggled to understand the scope of it all.

  “Yes, I'm sorry, sweetheart. You shouldn't have to see this. You shouldn't even be here.”

  Lucy shook her head, wordless.

  Eleanor dusted her hands on her skirt and rose to her feet. She looked outside. The sun had set and night had fallen. It rendered the shop in hues of blue, black, and gray. Silver moonlight found its way through the dirt-streaked windows. It cast a ghostly sheen on her face. “It's late. I don't think it's wise to leave in the dark. We don't know what's out there.”

  “We're staying here? With Mr. Burns and him?” Lucy pointed a trembling figure at the tarp-covered corpse of the Monster Man.

  “We don't have a choice, sweetie. We can't leave until morning.”

  Inside Lucy's chest, a well of resistance bubbled up. Every scary story she'd ever heard on the playground came back to bother her. “But...I don't want to stay here with them. What if they wake up and try to eat us? What if their ghosts haunt us while we sleep?”

  Eleanor sighed. “There are no such things as ghosts, sweetie, and dead men don't come back to life.”

  Lucy shook her head. “No, we can't stay here with them.”

  Eleanor raised a calming hand. “I’ll tell you what. If it's safe outside, I'll take the bodies out. Okay? Then it's just you and me in here until morning.”

  Lucy grasped at this straw of comfort, slim though it was. Anything not to sleep in the dark next to the dead Mr. Burns and Monster Man. “Okay.”

  Eleanor patted Mr. Burn's pockets until she found the key and checked outside while Lucy watched. “Looks clear enough. I think it's all right, but I want you to stay in the back just the same.”

  Lucy obeyed and picked a secluded spot further away. With her eyes fixed on her mother, she waited as Eleanor dragged Monster Man across the floor by his feet. He must have been heavy because she struggled, but in the end, she got him to the exit. After a quick look around, she opened the door and heaved the body outside. With her fist in her mouth, Lucy waited until her mother was safely back inside. Only then did she dare to breathe again.

  “One down,” Eleanor said as she closed the door behind her. “One more to go.”

  Her feet carried her to Mr. Burns side, and she bent down to grasp his ankles. As she touched him, he twitched. A low moan eased from between his lips, and she gasped. “Jared?”

  His eyelids fluttered open and stared at the ceiling. He rolled over and pushed himself upright while a shocked Eleanor watched with an expression of stunned amazement. Amazement that gave way to happiness. She reached out to him. “Jared, you're alive. I can't believe it.”

  But to Lucy, it felt wrong. Mr. Burns didn't speak, and his movements were strange, stiff and stilted. “No. Don't touch him, Mommy. Don't.”

  “It's okay, Lucy. It's just Mr. Burns.” With a brilliant smile, Eleanor reached out. Jared's head swung toward her, drawn by her words and movement. His lips parted, and a strangled growl caused her to pause in confusion.

  Her expression changed from joy to fear when he charged. His hulking body flung itself at her, and she shrieked and dove aside. He crashed to the floor but got up quickly to charge again.

  “Jared, no. What are you doing? This isn't you, you're not like them.” She ducked again when he reached for her and scurried behind a steel table.

  He stalked around the intrusive barrier; his head was dropped low with an animal grimace on his lips. Like a crab, Eleanor moved sideways to keep out of his reach. Mr. Burns swiped at her, and she shrieked.

  Lucy let go of a choked sob as she watched. “Mommy.”

  Eleanor's head swung from the crazed Jared to Lucy, and she ordered in urgent tones. “Lucy, hide. You have to hide.”

  “No, I won't leave you.”

  “Lucy, please,” Eleanor begged. “I can't protect you. He's stronger than me.”

  Monster Mr. Burns edged around the table while she spoke, closing in for the kill. Lucy jumped to her feet, her knees trembling so
hard they knocked together. “Mommy, watch out!”

  Mr. Burns lunged for Eleanor and caught her wrist. In a single fluid movement, he raised her arm to his mouth and bit down. His teeth sank into her flesh, blood spurting from the wound. He ripped his head to the side. Red meat and strings of sinew tore loose, flapping between his lips.

  “Mommy, no.” Lucy shook her head in denial. It wasn't happening. It wasn't. It was all a mistake.

  Eleanor screamed, long and hard. She reached toward Lucy with one hand while the other tugged against Mr. Burn's iron grip. He didn't let go, wouldn't let go. His head bobbed, and he tore loose another hunk of flesh. Tears streamed down Eleanor's face. “Please, Lucy. You have to hide before he finds you. Run!”

  “I won't leave you.” Refusing to listen to her her mother's commands, Lucy ran toward her, thinking only to help. She dove at Mr. Burns and tackled him around the waist. He growled and reached for her. His fingers brushed her hair, yanking out a few strands.

  “Leave her alone,” Eleanor shouted and threw herself in between.

  They all three went down in a tangle of arms and legs. An elbow hit Lucy on the temple, and she saw stars. A foot knocked the breath from her lungs. In the background, she heard her mother screaming. “Lucy, run. Hide. Please. Do it for me!”

  Her mother's desperate pleas broke through the fog, and Lucy crawled away on all fours. Her limbs moved of their own accord, spurred on by Eleanor's continued begging. “Please, Lucy. I can't watch you die. You have to live. Hide. Hide until someone comes to find you.”

  Lucy sobbed as she crawled. She wanted to go back and help. She wanted to curl up into a little ball. She wanted to die. She wanted...she wanted to live.

  Her scurried movements carried her to the back wall where a rusty grate covered an old hole where an aircon unit used to be. Her fingertips hooked into the metal, and she pulled. The steel groaned but refused to move. She pulled harder, one foot braced against the wall. She'd lost a shoe somewhere, and her socked toes dug into the concrete. The lid came free with a rusty screech.

  Lucy crawled into the small space and pulled the grate back into place. There she curled into a fetal position. Ragged sobs sawed through her chest, loud and strong. It didn't drown out the sounds of her mother's agony, though. Nothing could.

  Raw screams of pain tore through the shop, torn from her mother's lips as Jared dove into her soft flesh. His teeth ripped, and his fingers dug. Lucy heard it all, though she couldn't see it in the darkness. Her mother and Mr. Burns formed one monstrous shadow, twisting and churning.

  In a last attempt to hold onto her mother, Lucy called out. “Mommy, Mommy.”

  Eleanor heard and responded with the last of her strength as she fought against the demon tearing her limb from limb. Her one hand reached toward Lucy, a ray of moonlight illuminating her blood-spattered hand. The searching fingers found Lucy's shoe and clutched it tightly. “Lucy!”

  “Mommy!”

  “Lucy, I love you. Never forget that. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Mommy.”

  “Now be quiet, sweetheart. Please, or he'll hear you. Don't let him hear you.”

  “O...o...okay, Mommy.” Lucy pressed a fist against her lips, muffling the sobs that wracked her body.

  “Don't...don't let him find you.” The words came out softly, a gurgle twisting the vowels as blood gushed up Eleanor's throat to pour onto the floor. Lucy watched as the creeping pool of sticky black fluid crept across the ground.

  Eleanor's struggles ceased as the strength left her body, the only movement coming from Jared as he pushed and pulled at her broken body. Her last words left her lips on a wisp of air, a single exhale. “Live, Lucy. Live.”

  The sounds of frantic struggle and pain died away, replaced by the wet sounds of chewing and slurping. Lucy closed her eyes against the reality that faced her. Her mother was dead, and the monster was eating her. The same monster that mustn't find her.

  She turned away from the grate and pressed her hands to her ears. She closed her eyes and willed the room apart. Willed the sounds of death and the smell of blood away.

  I'm not here. I'm at home. I'm watching cartoons. Mommy is baking me a birthday cake. Chocolate and strawberries. I'm turning six this year. Next year, I'll go to big school.

  Daddy is happy. He's laughing and look, he's kissing Mommy. She's happy too. She's smiling. We're happy. We're all happy, and nothing is wrong. Nothing. Happy, happy, happy, happy.

  The scene faded away, replaced by her current reality. Her mind shied from it, unable to cope. A single refrain played through her head, a single thread she clung to with fierce tenacity. Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy...

  THE END

  I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, I would much appreciate a short review on Amazon or your favorite book website. Reviews are crucial for any author, and even just a line or two can make a huge difference. Read further for more apocalyptic goodness!

  You're a survivor!

  So we’ve reached the end of Lucy’s Chance but not the end of the adventure. This is book 3 in the Death’s Children Series. Would you like to find out what happens next? If you do, keep turning the pages for a sneak peek at the sequel and decide for yourself. Happy reading!

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  Thanks for reading and never stop being a survivor!

  Sneak Preview

  This is the first chapter of Dee’s Destiny, Book 4 in the Death’s Children Series.

  Available Here

  Chapter 1

  Dee’s boots crunched over a patch of gravel on the tar, the sound loud in the silence that surrounded them. Night had fallen with the last rays of sunlight winking out on the horizon, but visibility was excellent. The road snaked ahead, lit by the bright full moon that shone down and cast their environment in sharp relief.

  A breeze stirred the leaves on the branches, and the air was damp, dense with moisture. She’d noticed the half-dried puddles of water in the hollows made by tree roots and ditches and surmised it had pelted down in the last day or so. It will likely rain again tonight.

  Ryan walked next to her without saying a word, his hoodie bouncing on his back with each step and his worn takkies making barely a sound. In each hand, he carried a weapon. The long screwdriver she’d found not far from his unconscious body, and the hatchet he’d wrenched from the skull of a dead zombie.

  She’d watched as he retrieved the ax without hesitation. It proved to her he was tough enough to survive and strong enough to kill when he had to. She had no time for sissies. Not during the zombie apocalypse, a thing she’d never have thought possible in a million years, but there it was. The end of the world.

  Dee cast a sidelong glance at Ryan, marveling at his innocent looks. He was younger than her, that much was obvious. Maybe sixteen to her nineteen. Goofy-looking too. Not exactly a stone-cold killer. Still, he was tough, and he had a cute way of blushing whenever she smiled at him. Not used to girls, I bet.

  “So Ryan. I guess all this is right up your alley?” she said, gesturing around them.

  “Huh?” He stared at her in confusion.

  “You�
��re a gamer, right? I recognize the look,” she said, her lips quirking into a teasing grin. I wonder how long it will take him to blush this time?

  “The look?” he asked.

  “You know. Pale skin, slender build, that sort of thing. You’re not much into sport, are you?”

  He shrugged. “Not really.”

  “You’ve got the hands of a gamer too. Long fingers, strong, well-defined. You must have played tons of zombie games. A real expert, I bet.”

  A flush crept up Ryan’s neck, suffusing his cheeks with hot blood.

  Bingo!

  “Um, th…thanks. I guess,” he stuttered.

  “Don’t mention it,” she replied with a satisfied smile. Not used to girls at all!

  Her teasing banter was interrupted by the sound of groaning, and she shucked her gun, a Glock 17 she’d taken off a dead police officer. The magazine was nearly full at thirteen rounds, and she had a spare tucked into her pocket. Once again, she thanked her gun-enthusiast dad for teaching her how to shoot from a young age. Even at University, she’d visited the shooting range every weekend to hone her skills. Besides, it was a fun pastime. “Heads up.”

  “I see them,” Ryan replied in a low voice as he readied the hatchet. “It’s the same lot that stormed our car and followed me. Luckily, they’re the slower type. We took out the runners earlier.”

  Dee aimed at the nearest zombie, its shambling hulk turning their way as it heard their conversation. She stilled her body before squeezing the trigger. The gun bucked, and a spray of brain matter exploded from the back of the infected’s skull. “Gotcha.”

  The rest of the undead sprang to life and ran toward them, galvanized by the noise. Their groans changed to eager snarls, and their broken bodies moved with surprising speed.