“Run!” Daniel yelled at me. “You have to go now—I’ll follow!” He whirled around, and with a loping gate, he dashed to meet the nearest corpse.
Yes. I had to go now. That was my job: to reach Elijah before the Dead reached me.
I bolted from the battle and into the tiny strip of forest. Briars and brambles clawed at me, but I barreled through. The Dead could be anywhere, and speed was a safer option than silence.
In seconds I reached the last tree in the forest fringe and stumbled onto a cemetery plot. A tombstone loomed beside a gaping hole. What had once been a grassy mound was now a pile of disrupted soil and casket splinters.
I scanned the view before me. I had visited Laurel Hill many times over the last six years, and I knew its winding paths well. Yet, for a panicky moment, nothing looked familiar. All the trees, monuments, and open graves looked the same.
Then there—to my right, I saw the carriageway I needed. Relief flashed through me, and with a long, steeling breath, I clenched my fists and set off toward the path—toward where I knew Elijah would be: our father’s grave.
The sun was coming up faster now, and its beams pierced the sky and layered the cemetery in thick shadows. I spun my head side to side, constantly searching for movement. Every grave I passed was open. As Clarence had said all those days ago, I hear all the corpses in Laurel Hill have come to life.
Then I heard a distant pounding. Unnaturally quick feet. I spun about until I spotted to my left and down another path the rapid, rolling stride of a Hungry. Still distant, but vicious and bounding toward me.
Panic exploded in my chest. I had no choice now but to run.
I pushed my feet as hard as the terrain and my body would let me—down dirt paths, across grassy plots, over empty graves, and around tombstones. Faster, Eleanor, faster. I had to get to Elijah. I had to get away!
The corpse was gaining ground.
I leaped over red zinnias and raced onto a crowded expanse of tombstones. The corpse was so close now I could hear its bones scraping and its teeth gnashing.
God, I wasn’t ready to die. In a flash of awareness, I understood Clarence’s wild determination to live. It’s one thing to fear death, but it’s another to fear the Dead.
I reached a marble tombstone topped with an angel. Straight beyond it would lead me to Elijah. I had to get around the damn thing, and that meant I would have to slow.
I hope there’s an open grave on the other side.
I aimed my stride for the right edge of the tombstone’s marble base. When I reached its corner, I skidded around. Once on the other side, I bolted left. I was directly in front of the tombstone now, and the hole I’d hoped for gaped before me.
I sprang up and sailed through the air. Beneath me, the grave whizzed past. A jagged wooden plank jutted straight up from the overturned soil. My boots barely missed it.
I hit the ground on the other side so hard that my knees popped, but I didn’t stop. I staggered upright and ran.
Then came the sounds of slicing flesh and snapping bones. I risked a glance back.
The corpse had impaled itself on the exposed coffin wood. It wore an old Union uniform—I had seen this Hungry once before. But rather than claw at me through iron bars, it now struggled furiously to gain purchase on the loose soil. Eventually its unnatural strength and desperation would pay off, and it would fight itself free.
I wouldn’t be around when that happened.
I wove around empty graves and towering stones. My breath burned in my chest, but I was so close to Elijah now.
Even if I hadn’t known where in the cemetery he would be, I could have sorted it out by the Dead. The closer I got to Elijah, the more of them lolled about. Some noticed me and adjusted their course to follow, but none were near enough to be a problem.
Yet.
I jumped over more zinnias and hit the gravel running. I was only a hundred feet or so from my destination now.
But it didn’t matter. I’d reached the first of Elijah’s personal guard.
I skittered to a stop, whipping my head about in search of a way through. But hundreds of Dead stood before me—a wall of gray, rotting flesh. It was like the rows of Dead at the Exhibition, except these were so densely packed, I could never hope to pass.
The nearest ones sensed me. They twisted around, their arms rose up, and they lunged. Behind me I knew more Dead closed in. And somewhere, not far behind, a skeletal Union soldier galloped after me.
I was out of options, and with that realization, trembling overtook me.
“Elijah!” I screamed. “Elijah! Help!” My vocal cords ripped with each frantic shriek, and sobs started, deep in my chest. Each moment, the Dead tumbled closer.
“Elijah! It’s me, Eleanor! It’s me!” I screamed as loud as I could, tears pouring down my cheeks. Over and over I shouted my brother’s name. Still, the Dead closed in.