The Reaping (The Fahllen #1)(68)
Author: M. Leighton

My heart and my mind raced all the way to the forks, where I pulled off the road and parked on the shoulder. I leapt out and headed for the woods.

As I quickly picked my way across the uneven terrain, I went back over my dream, trying to remember as much detail as possible, hoping it was just a dream and nothing more. Something in my gut, however, told me that it was much, much more than that.

I rounded a tree and nearly tripped over my own feet when I saw my mother pinned up against a tree just ahead of me. My heart stopped for an instant before restarting at a breakneck pace. I haven’t had her long enough. I haven’t had enough time! I thought frantically. And then Leah tore into her throat.

I raced forward, ready to tear my friend limb from limb, but I ran right through them. They evaporated like mist. It was only a vision. I turned back and the image solidified again, but it was like I’d hit the rewind button.

My mother was saying something, shaking her head and taking slow, careful steps backward, until she ran into a tree. At first, I couldn’t see who she was talking to. Then Leah entered the picture. Only she didn’t look entirely like Leah.

Framed by her trademark springy, dark curls, Leah’s face was a mottled gray color. Her eyes were wide and feral. They looked like burnt, obsidian holes in her head with a smoky ring of soot around each one. Her lips were curled back viciously, baring dozens of sharp, elongated teeth that chattered in anticipation. Thin black veins crept out from around her mouth, across her cheeks and down her chin, like inky spider web.

She tilted her head to one side, as if she were trying to understand what my mother was saying. And then, in a movement so fast I couldn’t track it with my eyes, she was pinning my mother to the tree. This time, I could see the filmy presence of Grey by her side. She stood to Leah’s left, her head bent toward Leah’s ear. I could see her mouth moving as if she were speaking and then, like she’d said something to enrage Leah, Leah bent her head and tore violently into my mother’s throat.

I had to look away. Even though it wasn’t real (hopefully it hadn’t even happened yet), I couldn’t bear to watch Leah feed from her.

Then the sound of voices—raised voices—reached my ears. I turned back toward the clearing and took off at a dead run. When I came upon them, they were in the woods right at the edge of the clearing. Leah was shouting, though I couldn’t make out the words, and my mother’s soothing voice was all but drowned out by it. She was backing up and I could see the tree that she would eventually be pinned to.

Pushing my legs as fast as they would go, I bent at the waist and aimed my shoulder right for Leah’s middle. When I hit her, I heard the air whoosh out as it was forced from her lungs in a grunt.

Once Leah was on the ground, I turned back toward my mother. I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the clearing. I was going to take her to the one place I knew Leah couldn’t follow us.

“Close your eyes,” I commanded. Without question, she did as I asked. Satisfied, I grabbed her hand, pulling her arm in tight under mine, closed my eyes and pictured the black house, hoping my concentration would hold long enough to get us there before Leah reached us.

When I started to get that dizzy feeling again, I opened my eyes. We were in the charred yard of the black house, the one place I didn’t think I’d ever be pleased to see. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that we’d escaped Leah.

When I turned to face her, I saw movement behind her. My heart lurched as I saw the dead, clumsily making their way across the crispy lawn toward us. And they looked ravenous.

Regrettably, I hadn’t had time to think my plan all the way through. I didn’t know how to get us back.

There was nothing I could do about that now, though, so I scanned our surroundings, looking for a place to take my mother—a safe place. But there was nothing around for miles it seemed, nothing but the house, the field and the dense forest on every side.

“Come on,” I said, pulling her along behind me. We ran toward the black house. I had no idea what I thought we might do once we got there, but it appeared to be the only viable option for shelter and safety.

It wasn’t that far, which was good, but that also meant that it didn’t give me much time to think before the dead reached us.

We climbed the steps and stopped on the stoop. I looked down at the doorknob, knowing what was coming if I touched it. But what choice did I have?

Gritting my teeth, I curled my fingers around the silver knob. And, as I expected, the pain arrived almost instantaneously. Gasping, I bit my lip to keep from crying out and, just like before, I was temporarily immobilized by agony.

Focusing on my fingers, I waited for the worst of it to pass so I could grip and twist the doorknob and get my mother to safety.

And then I heard her scream.

Fighting against the pain, I was able to turn my head just enough to see what she’d screamed about. It was the dead. They were all around us, many even up on the steps. They were grabbing and snapping at my mother. She had flattened herself against the door as much as possible, but they were quickly closing in on us.

I called my reluctant muscles into action, using every ounce of strength I could summon. I tightened my grip on the doorknob and twisted. Inch by excruciating inch, it turned and, as it released, I all but fell through the door. Just like last time.

Landing on my back knocked the breath out of me, but other than that, I was feeling much better. The pain was subsiding much more quickly than it had the previous time. Gingerly, I turned my head and looked around. My mother was neither to my left or my right.

I pushed myself into a sitting position and, through the invisible barrier that covered the doorway, I saw my mother’s back pressed up against it. She was trapped outside.

“No!” I screamed, finding my feet and launching myself toward the door. I grabbed my mother by the shoulders and tried to pull her through into the house, but I couldn’t so I walked back through the doorway and tried to push her inside. That didn’t work either; it was like trying to stuff a doll through the cracks in a brick wall.

I turned my back to her, pressing my body against hers, effectively shielding her from all the hungry mouths and greedy hands that were reaching for us. I kicked at them, forgetting that it was useless, like raising my leg into thin air.

My mother squealed at my back, jerking her leg away from something. I looked down and saw that several staggering dead had found their way around to the sides of the steps where they could just reach our feet with their greedy fingers.