Escape (7 page)

            Its skin was a mixed veiny blue and vomit green color, with the flesh shriveled and flaking off, revealing the aging bones and disconnected tendons underneath. Soon, an arm rose out of the soil, then an elbow, and then a shoulder. Another hand broke the surface. As more was revealed, they could see tattered clothes hanging from the decaying limbs.

            Amelia watched with horror as an animated corpse struggled from the ground. A mindless groan erupted from its toothless, gaping mouth with its jaw half hanging by a thin piece of rotting skin. One of its eyes dangled from its socket by a few pink strings of blood vessels and muscle while the other roamed aimlessly, unable to fix on anything. The zombie pulled itself out of the grave, but much of its torso and lower body were still trapped under the packed dirt.

            Connor seemed unfazed as he slowly placed the frightened Amelia behind him, walked up to the zombie and kicked its decomposing head like it were a football. The skull, eyeball and all, went soaring through the snowy air and landed somewhere out of sight. The rest of the body went limp and crumbled back down to its resting place.

            “Well, that was easy,” Connor quipped. How could he find such a thing humorous? Amelia couldn’t stop trembling, her knees knocking together.

            “That’s it? Can we keep going?” Amelia asked, her voice shaking.

            “Not exactly,” Connor said as his gaze settled past Amelia to something behind her. Amelia turned and met a zombie face-to-face. How could it have snuck up on her so quietly? She could smell the nauseating, putrid flesh as it reached out to grab her.

            She shrieked and, doing the only thing she knew to do, swung the box at the monster’s head.

            Just as before, the head fell off the zombie’s body with ease and tumbled to the ground, rolling for a little while and then stopping yards away. The rest of the body collapsed in a heap at her feet.

            Amelia felt oddly proud of herself for killing the zombie, but when she turned back to Connor, she discovered that he was now facing three more zombies, knocking heads off left and right with firm punches and flying kicks to their temples.

            With another glance around the graveyard, she saw they were slowly becoming surrounded. Her once happy smile for killing just one zombie now faded into a deep frown.

            She had no combat experience and she was never good at sports. How could she possibly defend herself against this hoard of undead monsters? Connor was busy with his own fight and unable to help her.

            As they drew closer, she knew there was only one thing she could do. She hoisted the box over her shoulder as if she were about to swing a baseball bat and began smashing in the skulls of any zombie that dared get near her. She could only guess that they were hungry for her brains like all of the horror movies told her back home. They certainly didn’t seem interested in a hug. Amelia didn’t know why so many zombies chose now to come and attack them, instead of when they had first entered the cemetery.

            Connor and Amelia battled against the zombies together, sending heads flying in all directions. They slowly began making their way towards the other end of the field, hacking through the zombies as they went.

            “Did you step on a grave?” Connor asked angrily when there was a lull in the waves of zombies that were descending upon them.

            “I don’t know. I might have.”

            “I told you not to!”

            “I’m sorry!” Amelia felt his angry eyes glaring at her as she bashed another zombie head out of the park.

            She was angry with herself that she had let him down, but she couldn’t get wrapped up in emotions just yet. Adrenaline flooded her system and all she could think of was getting out of this graveyard with her head still attached.

            She looked out over the field and all she could see was an endless sea of rotting corpses marching towards her, hunger blazing in their eyes.

            “Come on, I see an opening.”

            Connor grabbed Amelia’s hand and ran towards the tree line, making her stumble at first, but once she gained her footing, she ran with him, passing zombies left and right that were just now emerging from their graves.

            “They can’t step foot out of the cemetery,” Connor informed her as they ran, jumping over and dodging headstones as they went.

            Amelia looked behind her at all the zombies they were leaving behind. Some had given up the chase and turned to retreat back to their graves. Others continued on even though it was impossible for them to catch up.

            As they ran, Amelia accidentally stumbled over some of the heads they had knocked off, but she kept up the pace. Connor trampled over emerging appendages that were reaching out from the unbroken graves, breaking the hands clean off at the wrists.

            The cold air made her throat raw as she ran behind Connor, their hands still clasped together. The snow under her feet was unusually slick and she slid occasionally, but Connor was strong enough to yank her forward so she could continue the escape. She had no idea how fast they were going, but it seemed like an ungodly kind of speed.

            After a while, no zombies appeared in their path and he slowed their pace to an easy jog before they reached the tree line and leapt from the hallow ground, back onto the damp soil of the forest.

            Connor let go of her hand and Amelia fell to the ground and stared dumbly back at the graveyard, marveling at what she just survived. This adventure was beginning to prove that she was out of shape, despite her fit figure. She regretted not taking physical education in school and opting to take it online instead.

            She sat there, trying desperately to catch her breath, the seat of her pants growing damp from the snow that was still falling and coated the forest path. Connor stood beside her, watching her. He wasn’t panting, he didn’t look tired; he didn’t even look glad that they survived. But he wasn’t angry either. Amelia was thankful for that. She was sure that it was her own fault that the zombies woke up in the first place, but he didn’t scold her and he didn’t yell.

            Instead, he offered his hand out to her. She stared at the hand, seeing how rough and calloused it was. How did they become that way? He had such thick, powerful hands. They were the same hands that attacked her before, but also the same hands that caught her when she had fallen and had guided her to safety. How could these hands do such harm and then so much healing? 

            Amelia, still breathless, glanced between Connor’s imperturbable eyes and his outstretched hand. With a little hesitation, she took it and he smoothly pulled her to her feet.

            “We still have a long way to go,” he said. “Can you walk?”

            Amelia nodded and Connor’s hand released her. He led the way back onto the path and she followed. 

 
          It wasn’t long after their run through the graveyard that Amelia began to feel the effects of the great strain she had put on her body. Every muscle cried out for rest, especially her feet.

            She tried to stay strong like Connor, but she just couldn’t go on. He may have been perfectly fine, but she was not.

            Connor continued walking, even after Amelia plopped herself down onto a rotten log on the edge of the path. “Wait!” she called out, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

            Connor stopped and turned around, as if surprised to see her so far behind him. He sighed and returned to her side and placed his hands on his hips, looking down at her. “What is it?” he asked, obviously a little frustrated. Could he really have had impossibly high standards for her that he would expect her to be totally fine after what they had just done?

            “I’m tired,” Amelia complained, rubbing her aching calf muscles.

            Connor’s eyes ran up and down her body, as if surveying the damage. Then, he squatted down by her legs, rubbed his hands together as if to warm them up, his eyes fixed on her calves. He swatted her hands away.

            “What?” she cried, growing irritated by his actions.

            Before she could get an answer, Connor had replaced her hands with his.

            Amelia’s eyes went wide as she watched him massage her calf muscles, pressing his thumb firmly along her shinbone and squeezing the meat beneath them between his fingers in soothing motions. He was gentle, but firm in his method. His hands roamed from just behind her knees all the way to the balls of her feet after he slipped her boots off.

            The longer he massaged her legs - first the left, then the right - his hands began to glow with an aura of gold. Her muscles and skin tingled beneath his touch. Amelia tried to yank her leg from his grasp, but his grip was too secure.

            “What are you doing?” she asked as he worked his hands down from her ankles, all the way up to the tops of her knees once more. The sensation spread with his hands.

            Connor shushed her and continued his massage.

            Amelia watched Connor’s concentrated gaze and his kneading hands. She felt her heart pounding against her chest so rapidly she thought it would burst. Her hands became shaky and damp from nervousness while her head grew light. She felt she would faint if she didn’t pull herself together. Did he know what he was doing to her?

            After ten minutes of this constant rubbing and steadily applying pressure, Connor removed his glowing hands to give Amelia her legs back. Now, they were completely painless and felt stronger to endure the long walk ahead.

            Amelia quickly recoiled her legs and rubbed her palms against them, making sure that this was no trick. How could she scientifically explain what he just did to her?

            “Anything else hurting?” he asked, his palms up like he was a doctor waiting to perform more surgery. They were still glowing. Amelia’s confused eyes darted between her healed legs, his hands and his still face.

            “What did you just do?”

            “Don’t your legs feel better?”

            “Yeah, but I didn’t think that demons could heal. I thought they only caused pain.”

            Connor’s face fell and a shadow passed over his eyes. “Then you obviously don’t know enough.”

            That was the first time that Amelia had ever been accused of not knowing enough. She knew plenty of facts, formulas, dates and grammatical rules to make anyone believe she had an above average intelligence. But now, it seemed that all of that knowledge was useless in this world.

            “Does anything else hurt?” he repeated.

            Amelia’s first thought was her thighs, but she had no intention of letting him touch her there. She twisted herself around to turn her back towards him and pulled her hair over one of her shoulders. “My back,” she replied.

            Connor paused, torn in his mind if he should. He knew that if she weren’t in pain, she could move faster and this journey would be over with sooner. He had to take the chance.

            He placed his hands on her shoulder and pressed his thumbs just below the nap of her neck. He worked his way down her spine, massaging in rhythmic circles while his fingers curled around her sides. He could feel her muscles tense and her swift heartbeat just beneath his fingertips.

            Connor’s hands traveled back up to her shoulders and squeezed the muscles there. The tenseness melted away in his grasp and he heard her let out a sigh of relief. He felt a sensation rise within him, so much that his hands quivered.

            He shook his head sharply, grabbing a hold of his composure before continuing. He wrapped his hands around her upper arms and kneaded them briefly before returning to her back. He formed his hands into fists and torqued his knuckles down her sides.

            He could feel the pain transfer from her body to his, flowing from his hands and into his own back. He could carry the pain better than she could. As soon as the aches came, they dissolved just as quickly. He didn’t realize she hurt so much though. He felt the pain in her legs, in her back, but as he ran his palms over her shoulder blades again, he could feel the pain in her heart. It wasn’t a physical pain, but an emotional one. It was so great, so burdensome that not even his healing powers could take it away.

            He tried in vain to absorb it like the rest of the pain, but he simply couldn’t. A little did leak through and hit his stony heart, breaking into pieces on impact. But, some shrapnel became lodged in and he couldn’t stop the one tear from escaping down his cheek. A tendon jumped in his jaw and nose singed against the torrent of emotion.

            Connor cleared his throat and continued the massage until he was sure all the physical pain was gone. He withdrew his hands quickly and wiped away the evidence of the tear before standing up.

            Amelia turned back around to face Connor, feeling as good as new. She watched as he casually blew out the amber glow from his hands and readjusted the pack on his shoulders. There was something different in his eyes. They looked softer, clearer and not as cold as before. In fact, they were quite warm and for once, she saw some feeling glistening there. She grew hopeful.

            “Thank you.”

            He didn’t look at her, he didn’t reply. Connor just stood waiting for her so they could continue. Was something wrong? Did he feel the way that she felt when his hands were on her? Her back muscles were rejuvenated, but her lower abdomen was tight with a queer sense of expectation. Amelia wanted him to take away the aching, but there was no way she would let him touch her there.

            Amelia was about to rise from the log when she heard something peculiar. It sounded like the tinkling of a small bell. “What was that?”

            Connor had heard it too and he knew exactly what that was.

            The bell chimed again and more joined it. Soon, a chorus of melodious bells surrounded them. And with them, came the dancing lights. Amelia likened them to fireflies or lightning bugs. They looked so small from a distance, but they grew closer, drifting in from the darkness. They came in all arrays of colors from yellow to blue and even some were pink and purple.  They fluttered and flinted about in random patterns, alighting the grey forest with a wash of rainbow sparks. There seemed to be hundreds of them.

            Connor made a noise of disgust as he muttered the word “pixies”. Amelia watched as the lights emerged from the woods and she could slowly make out the figures in the lights. The pixies were no taller than a matchstick and resembled the form of a human lady. They wore tiny outfits of bright colors to match their glow.

            “We’re in the country of Phantasia now,” he said.

            Amelia smiled as they hovered around her and Connor, casting fanciful glimmerings on their skin and clothing. She could see that they flew on wings that were as wide as the pixies were tall and in the shape of dragonfly wings. Their bell-like sound came from the flapping of these wings, which were as swift as a hummingbird’s.

            One blue pixie flew close to Amelia’s face, examining her features with a fascinated grin. Its face was so beautiful and perfect like a porcelain doll. Amelia lifted her hand and the weightless pixie stood on her palm, her wings outstretched to her sides at rest.

            Connor watched her face fill with wonder and enthusiasm. He felt something strike against his hard heart, creating a crack in his armor. It was enough to make the corners of his mouth twitch, tempting his mouth to do something that he hadn’t done in centuries. He steeled himself and looked away.

            “They’re so tiny,” Amelia commented, studying the curious pixie in her hand – which was studying her just as closely.

            “Yeah, but they can be big trouble too.”

            The pixie that Amelia held perked her head up at Connor’s remark and turned, stomping her little bare feet against Amelia’s palm. She just barely felt the force behind it.

            “I’ll have you know that we are no trouble at all, mister demon.” Her voice was just as musical as her wings, sounding like the trickling of a fountain. Surprisingly, her voice was more than loud enough for both of them to hear, despite her small size. “We’ve come to help.”

            “We don’t need any of your help,” Connor snarled.

            “We know you’ve journeyed far. There is a home of gnomes not far from here where you can rest for a while.”

            “We don’t need any rest and I’m not dealing with any gnomes. We need to get going.” Connor began to walk away from Amelia and the pixies, but he was stopped as a few began pulling on his hair to keep him from running off.

            He jerked and swatted at them, but no swing connected with the pixies. They were too swift and dodged out of range.

            Amelia couldn’t help but giggle at the spectacle. “I am a little hungry, Connor. Can we at least stop there to eat something?” Amelia pleaded, more curious about what a gnome looked like than anything else.

            “We can eat right here if we need to.” Connor leered hungrily at a nearby pixie that was edging too close to his face. It caught his meaning, let out a shrill little squeak before retreating behind one of its friends.

            The blue pixie flew up to float between the two of them. “It’s not safe to stay out on the open road. There is danger on the winds.”

            “Danger?” Amelia questioned, a sliver of anxiety piercing her lungs so she could barely breathe.

            The pixie wouldn’t answer her, but kept her focus upon the one she really needed to convince. “Let us take you to the gnomes. They can shelter you while you rest.”

            Connor glanced between the pixie and Amelia and though he didn’t like the idea, he waved his hand in defeat.

            The pixies gathered together in a swarm of riotous color and began snaking through the trees ringing their bells as they went, leading Amelia and Connor off the path and deeper into the woods.

            Amelia stayed close behind the pixies while Connor lagged. As they weaved their way through the woods, she began to notice that she was no longer treading on barren ground, but plush grass. And the trees seemed to spring to life just as quickly. Connor had mentioned that they were in a different country, but she didn’t know they could be so starkly different.

            Above, some of the moonlight filtered through a canopy of leaves, allowing less light to penetrate to the path, but the pixie glow was more than enough to travel by.

            Amelia could hear birds singing a happier tune and the calls of the night creatures were not as mysterious and frightening. She could say that they were even more familiar, reminding her of nights back home. Connor didn’t seem amused by any of it. His face was puckered into a sour sneer as he trudged along.

            After some walking, Amelia saw a glow ahead of them that was distinctly different from the pixies. This glow was steady and only flickered a little. She recognized it as that of a candle. As they came closer to it, she saw that it was emitting from a carved out hole in the trunk of an extraordinarily large tree trunk that towered high above the others. It had to have been more than ten foot wide at its base and she could make out the outline of a wooden door next to the open window. This must have been the home of the gnomes.

            The pixies led them forward, but the gnomes were eager to intercept their guests. A couple came bounding out from the door in the tree, their arms outstretched to receive them. Amelia was shocked to find that they looked exactly how she had envisioned them to be.

            They were akin to the little statues she saw on her neighbor’s lawn of the traditional garden gnomes. They were short and plump with pink chubby cheeks. They wore tall, colorful pointed hats and shiny leather loafers. One was an old man with a long white beard, wearing a smart waistcoat and trousers while the lady fashioned something like a peasant dress that reached to about her ankles with golden hair braided in two strands down the front of her. Both wore bright smiles and friendly expressions.

            The pixies, seeing that their task was complete, dispersed in all directions. Some flew up into the high treetops while others scattered with the wind. Amelia watched them disappear, leaving the only light coming from the gnome’s home.

            “Welcome, travelers!” the husband greeted heartily. “The pixies told us of your arrival. Come on inside and we can get better acquainted.” His voice was husky and deep, despite his size.

            Amelia and Connor stopped just before their home and saw that the door was no more than two and a half feet in height. There was no feasible way they could even crawl through.

            “I don’t think we can get in there,” Amelia observed, pointing to their open door. The two gnomes looked to the door, then their guests and then to each other. When they realized their hastiness in assuming their guests would fit, they laughed heartily. Even Amelia smiled a little, but Connor stayed flinty.