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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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The cut on Honor's lip is gone.
I don't understand. If nothing 's there, where did the blood come from?
An icy wind whips around us. I peer down at my brother, searching for answers, but all I'm aware of is the shiver of confusion and disbelief racing up my spine.
How did the wound just...disappear?
I don't have time to figure it out. The woman is getting closer. Her eyes wild, her thin lips curling into words I don't understand.
Thomas grips my arm. "I think it's Miss Perkins."
My breath hitches as I look closer. It is, Miss Perkins. But it's not the Miss Perkins I know. An older woman passing by turns to stare.
Honor tugs on my sleeve. "What's the matter with Teacher?"
Before I can respond, Thomas shoves us behind him. "Miss Perkins, are you okay?"
She continues forward, her lips chanting an unidentifiable message. When the words come into focus, her voice is a raspy whisper. "It's time...for school." She chokes, gagging on her own breath.
Thomas forces Honor and I back until we're pinned between him and the building. He holds out his hands to stop her. "Don't come any closer!"
But she doesn't listen. She continues her slow shuffle towards us.
My eyes blink against the wind. I press Honor to me as dread coils in my chest, the crowd outside the store taking notice. They inch closer, their movements jerky and stiff, their foreheads wrinkled with curiosity.
And then suspicion.
"She's Of the Blood!" one of them shouts.
Several women scream. People force their way back into the store while others run away. The sudden commotion confuses her. Miss Perkins stutters to a halt in front of us. She sways back and forth, back and forth, almost losing her balance.
I don't know what to do. Part of me wants to go to her, to help her, but the other part of me is terrified. I've never seen her this way before. Like a rabid dog.
Except...this is my teacher. A woman who cares for me and my family. Now, she needs me to return the favor.
When I take a tentative step toward her, Thomas grabs my arm. "What are you doing?"
A rush of emotion blurs my vision. "Thomas, she's sick. She needs our help."
His fingers tighten around me, but his face is conflicted. "Faith —"
An explosion cuts him off. The blast bounces off the buildings and echoes down the street. I flinch and squeeze my eyes shut, my hands cupped over my ears as the sound wails inside my head.
And then...silence.
When I open my eyes, Everett Winsley emerges from the crowd with a smoking gun in his hands, his gaze wild like a trapped animal. I turn back to Miss Perkins. She's crumpled on the road in a heap, a puddle of blood soaking the snow beneath her.
