Awry

72

The sun was setting on the small, quiet downtown of Avalon, Georgia and everything looked perfectly normal.

Everything except for the five teenagers walking into the Avalon cemetery, Scarlet still armed with a bloody butcher knife.

Scarlet knew it looked weird, but she didn’t care. Something was there….something was in the cemetery.

“You know,” Heather started. “This whole scenario sorta reeks of danger. I mean, a graveyard? Really?”

Scarlet took a deep breath and headed toward the cemetery gates that stood ajar. Like they were inviting them in.

Scarlet accepted the invitation and stepped into the green grassy hills of death.

Avalon Cemetery was vast and beautiful. It was slightly hilly, dotted with tombstones, and well-groomed. Birds chirped in the trees that spread their branches out over the departed and colorful flowers laid here and there at various headstones.

Peaceful.

Scarlet carefully walked along the clean sidewalk of the grounds, up the small hills, and along the grass.

Nate looked around as he walked along. “What are we looking for exactly?”

Scarlet’s eyes canvassed the area, hoping a memory would flash. “I don’t know.”

“Ah.” Nate nodded.

Heather turned to Nate with a smile. “It’s like we’re on a memory scavenger hunt. Scarlet gets a clue, grabs a dirty knife, and we follow her to a place filled with dead bodies, hoping to find the next clue.” She looked around at the standing tombs under the fading sunlight. “If it wasn’t so weird, it might actually be fun.”

“It’s not here,” Scarlet said, convinced she was looking at the wrong thing. “This isn’t the right place.”

Gabriel looked at her. “You said the Avalon cemetery.”

Scarlet slowly nodded, still looking around. “But this isn’t what I saw in my mind.”

“What did you see?” Tristan asked.

Scarlet thought for a moment. “I saw…crypts…and broken headstones.” She blinked. “I saw willow trees and overgrown weeds….”

Heather turned her head to Scarlet. “You saw the old cemetery.”

Everyone looked at her.

“You saw the original Avalon cemetery,” Heater explained, nodding her head.

“Maybe,” Scarlet said. “Where’s the original cemetery?”

“It’s in the back,” Heather pointed to the far end of the graveyard. “The way back. Nobody goes there anymore. I think they have it closed off.”

Scarlet headed toward the back. “Then, that’s where we need to go.”

“Of course, it is,” Heather muttered, smoothing her hands down her pink dress.

Everyone followed Scarlet down the sidewalk, over the hills, and to the back of the cemetery, where an old wall stood covered in moss and cobwebs. A small gate stood at the entrance, vines crawling up and down iron bars as it stood propped open to reveal a walled-in acre of broken tombstones, ancient crypts and withered grass. The sad branches of tall willow trees hung into the space, throwing everything into shadows as if it were always nighttime among the graves.

It was like the Secret Garden.

Of dead people.

Scarlet stood outside the open gate with her friends, unsure of what to do next.

Heather shifted. “I’m getting bad vibes about this.”

“Bad vibes about an ancient cemetery?” Nate quipped. “Imagine that.”

“Is this what you saw in your memory?” Tristan asked, stepping forward and eyeing the rundown expanse.

Scarlet nodded. “Exactly.”

Gabriel exhaled. “Then, let’s do this.” He moved forward and walked through the small gate, everyone following behind him.

Once inside, Scarlet was lost. She didn’t know what she was looking for or why she had thought to come there. Her eyes swept along the ancient ground until they caught on something.

In the back, under the darkest of shadows, were mounds of upturned dirt and rows of dug-up graves.

Uh-oh.

Scarlet started walking toward the dirt and everyone followed her.

“Are those…?” Nate swallowed. “Are those dug up graves?”

Nearing the place of shadows, Scarlet nodded. The graveyard was pillaged. Coffins were overturned and empty, and holes where bodies used to rest littered the dying grass.

Lots of holes.

Dozens of holes.

“O…M…G….” Heather gripped Scarlet’s arm as they stared ahead.

“Snowdonia Hawkweed!” Nate announced, pointing a finger into the air.

Everyone turned to stare at him.

Gabriel blinked. “You can’t just say random words, Nate. We’re not on the same nerd level as you.”

Nate exhaled loudly. “The proper name for the Liferoot flower Laura has is Snowdonia Hawkweed. And I just remembered what it was used for.” He looked around at the many holes. “Resurrection spells.”

“Resurrection?” Gabriel said. “Raven’s bringing corpses back from the dead?”

“Ew,” said Heather.

“Yes.” Nate nodded. “Liferoot is supposed to raise the dead, but it doesn’t work. Once a soul is gone, it’s gone. Liferoot can only reanimate bodies, not bring back their spirits.”

“You mean like zombies?” Heather’s face looked horrified. “All these corpses are now zombies?” She made a squeaky sound.

“Uh…probably.” Nate looked around.

Tristan cursed as he looked at Gabriel. “I knew it. I knew we should have tracked down Raven’s body back when you ‘thought’ she was dead and burned her alive or something.”

Scarlet swallowed as she lost count of the many empty graves. “What does this mean?”

Nate responded, “It means there are dozens of Ashmen running around Avalon, completely controlled by Raven.”

Scarlet shook her head.

No.

She did not sign up for zombies. She signed up for immortal twins and eternal water. Not witches and zombies and creepy-ass graveyards in the middle of the afternoon—

“Heather!” Gabriel’s voice cut into the air as hands whipped out from behind a crypt and grabbed Heather.

Heather squealed as an Ashman held her in his arms, gripping her so tight Scarlet could tell it was hard for Heather to breathe.

Tristan and Gabriel charged at the Ashman, Tristan reaching for something inside his coat.

Without thinking, Scarlet raised the knife she’d brought from the shack and flung the weapon at the Ashman.

It whipped through the sky, slicing the air as it cart-wheeled toward the soulless creature, and struck the Ashman in the center of his forehead with a gruesome thwack!

The Ashman looked stunned for a moment, before releasing Heather and falling to the ground.

Tristan and Gabriel stopped moving and turned to look at Scarlet.

Heather whimpered as she stepped away from the Ashman’s stiff body, and looked back at Scarlet, her mouth hanging open.

“Did you just….?” Heather looked from Scarlet to the dead Ashman with the knife in his head, and back to Scarlet.

Sliding his eyes to back to the Ashman, Tristan said nothing, but Scarlet felt relief rush out of his pores.

Suddenly, the Ashman’s body began to crumble, cracks splitting down the ashy skin covering his tightened limbs. The cracks grew until the crumbles broke off and fell apart, leaving nothing but ash on the cemetery earth.

Scarlet had just killed an Ashman. With a bloodstained butcher knife from her past that she’d thrown with deadly precision and instinctive force.

Scarlet’s hands started shaking as Heather’s big eyes left the ashy remains of her attacker and turned to Scarlet.

“O. M.G.” Heather blinked. “My best friend is a badass.”

Tristan followed everyone out of the old graveyard, into the new one, and back to Scarlet’s car.

“How did you do that?” Gabriel looked at Scarlet.

“I don’t know.” Scarlet was breathing heavy. “I don’t know.”

“That was incredible,” Nate said. “You hurled that knife like a pro. I’ve never seen you do something like that before. Where did you learn how to do that?”

“I have no idea.” Scarlet’s palms were sweaty.

“A better question,” Tristan said, “is, where the hell are the rest of the corpses? If Raven used a spell to bring them back to life to be her little minions, then where is she storing them?”

“Probably in my house somewhere,” Scarlet said. “Like my bedroom closet. Or under my bed. There’s probably an army of Ashmen rifling through my underwear drawer right this minute.” Scarlet made a face. “I can’t believe my guardian is Raven. So lame.”

Nate sighed. “Okay, well now that we know what we’re dealing with—resurrected dead people, fun!—we can make a plan to defend ourselves. Clearly, Scarlet’s weapons can kill the Ashmen. Why? I have no idea. But since Scarlet is some kind of secret ninja with an arsenal of weapons back at the shack I say we go get loaded up on Ashman-killing weapons and confront Laura—Raven—whatever, and figure out how to keep her from, you know, sending killers after us.” Nate looked at Scarlet and shrugged. “And, hey, maybe while we’re at it, we can rinse the blood off your weapons. No offense, Scarlet, but really? Dirty weapons?”

Tristan smiled to himself. Not long ago, Gabriel had lectured Tristan about the same thing: blood-covered weapons. Apparently, Tristan wasn’t the only cardholder of the bloody weapons club.

A thought hit him and Tristan froze.

“My blood.” Tristan said.

Everyone else stopped walking as well and stared at him.

Tristan shook his head. “My blood was on the arrow that killed the first Ashman.” Months ago, Tristan had attempted to kill himself using a variety of weapons and hadn’t bothered to wash his blood off of them afterward. “That’s what was different about my weapon. That’s why your Lord of the Rings sword didn’t work the other night.”

“Zelda sword,” Nate corrected.

“You think your blood is what killed the Ashman?” Gabriel scratched his jaw.

Tristan said, “Maybe.”

“Then whose blood was on Scarlet’s knife just now?” Heather asked.

“I’m not sure.” Tristan shook his head.

“Let’s take the knife back to the cabin and I’ll test the blood,” Nate said.

“Well, good luck with that.” Heather said. “The fair starts in a half hour and I have to work the Millhouse booth.”

Scarlet looked at her. “You can’t go to work, Heather. It’s not safe.”

“True. But unlike all you immortals,” Heather wiggled her fingers at them, “I have a job. And a family. And my family will be mad if I get fired from my job. So you four can go play Immortals verses Zombies or whatever, but I promised Clare I wouldn’t ditch work again.” She shrugged.

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair as he looked around. “How about this. Maybe we’ll all go to the fair so Heather’s not vulnerable to any bad guys and, while we’re at it, we’ll look for Laura. Raven. Whatever.”

“Good idea.” Nate clasped his hands together.

“That’s a terrible idea.” Tristan shrugged.

Nate ignored him. “We can confront Laura, detain her, and break into her house to steal the magic flower. That way, she won’t be able to make any more Ashmen.”

“I like it.” Gabriel agreed.

“I hate it.” Tristan crossed his arms.

Nate glared at Tristan. “You hate everything.”

Heather cleared her throat. “You know what I hate? Being late for work. So I’m walking to the fair.”

“I’ll go with you,” Scarlet said as she followed after Heather. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Scarlet?” Gabriel said, and Scarlet turned around. “Uh…do you maybe want to let me hold on to the knife?” He glanced at the bloody butcher knife in her hand that she had retrieved from the pile of ashes left by the Ashman in the old graveyard. “You know, just so you don’t scare the townspeople?”

Scarlet looked down at her weapon as she handed it to Gabriel.

It was probably better for Scarlet not to prance into the fair with a bloodstained weapon. Small town folks tended to get gossipy about stuff like that.

“Thanks.” Gabriel tucked the knife under his coat.

Tristan stared out at the sky as the sun fell below the horizon. Lights began to click on in the distance where the park was set up for the fair.

It was nearly nighttime. They had just discovered that Raven was alive and had an army of zombies armed with immortal-killing weapons. And what were they doing?

Going to a fair.

Fantastic.