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Once the sunlight goes to bed, that's when darkness wakes the dead.
When a series of grisly deaths devastate 19th-century New England, sixteen-year-old farm girl Faith must outsmart the Undead to ke...
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By late Saturday morning, our plan is in action. With no sunshine to burn off the fog, a thick mist creeps above the snow-covered terrain as Thomas, Honor, and I wait outside the general store for Victor.
At this hour, my family would normally visit with Mama and Grace at the cemetery, but this is the first Saturday since they passed that we've not gone to see them. Papa didn't sleep well last night. He decided he needed more rest, a luxury he doesn't typically allow. He set out squirrel traps for the day then went back to bed, not even bothering with breakfast.
"What's taking Victor so long? He knew we were coming." I grit my teeth and brace myself against the cold. "Will you please go see what he's up to?"
Thomas gapes at me in surprise. "And run the risk of having to speak with Mrs. Lloyd? No thank you. Besides, he said she doesn't want us inside. We're supposed to wait out here, remember?"
"I'll do it," Honor volunteers as he marches toward the door.
"You will do no such thing." I yank him back to my side and he careens toward me like an unsteady toddler.
"You never let me do anything!" Honor thrusts out his lower lip and rams his shoulder into a giant icicle hanging like a dagger from the covered porch. It breaks in half and crashes to the ground, bursting into a dozen jaggedy pieces.
Thomas kicks a chunk of ice and it spins across the road, narrowly missing a passing horse and wagon.
I shoot him a quick look before turning back to my brother. "Don't pout. If you go into that store with no intention to buy, she's going to bite off your head." When my teeth come together in an exaggerated chomp, Honor giggles.
Just then, the front door shrieks open and Victor steps outside, his face shadowed behind the hood of his coat.
"It's about time." Thomas rubs his mitted hands together and bounces from one foot to the next. "Any sign of Mr. Baptiste?"
Victor shakes his head. "I told you I'd come and get you if I saw him."
"Are you certain he's going to be here?" I try to keep the impatience from my voice. Make it seem like I'm simply curious. But my self-restraint is wearing thin. It was my idea to sneak into the mansion, but waiting outside in the freezing cold for a man who may or may not appear feels extreme now that we're actually here. What if he doesn't go shopping today? Then we'll have all caught hypothermia for no reason.
Victor scowls in my direction. "No. But Saturdays are our busy day and we're closed tomorrow. As far as I know, he hasn't bought groceries or kerosene since early in the week. That big old house isn't going to heat itself."
As if on cue, a blast of wind tears at my overcoat and drills through the layers of my clothes, including the flannel underwear underneath. I duck my chin inside my scarf and wait for the squall to pass.
