Still of Night (Dead of Night 3)
— 21 —
THE WARRIOR WOMAN
Rachael thought they’d found a model for heaven in the World After, but instead she found hell.
Catching back up with Claudia and Jason, Rachael had filled them in on what she’d found out and they’d shared their own grim stories. They’d managed to talk to more than one of the non-residents; evidently their own skin colors made it easier for the workers to trust them. With each new story things got worse. Rachael felt sick. Finally she walked with her friends back to their temporary home, but after grabbing her dagger and tucking it into her belt under her shirt, she told them she was going out again.
“I want to see if I can talk to Tommy’s parents.”
It took a little wandering to locate their home again, but she found Tommy outside drawing on their walkway with colored chalk. He gave a friendly wave when he saw her. Ruffling his hair, she asked, “How are you doing, kiddo?”
“I had a bad dream about the Apple Man,” he said sadly, but then shrugged, going back to his chalk drawing, the trauma of the previous day easily forgotten.
His father answered the door, a handsome Caucasian man in his early forties. There were some soft lines at the corner of his blue eyes and hints of gray beginning to shade his temples. He looked untouched by any of the horrors outside the walls of Happy Valley.
He frowned when he saw her. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Rachael. My friends and I brought Tommy home yesterday.”
At that, he smiled and shook her hand emphatically. “You’re the girl who saved him! I’m Will Manners. Please, come in. My wife will want to thank you.”
He gestured with one arm, waving her inside. She stepped across the threshold gingerly, feeling out of place as soon as she entered. A beautiful grandfather clock, expensive pieces of art, and artfully arranged flowers decorated the interior, and that was just the entrance hall.
Brushing her wavy brown hair out of her face, Rachael looked around with a smile, putting on a pleasant mask to disguise her feelings.
She followed Will through an extravagantly decorated living room to a large kitchen, all black granite and stainless steel; marveling at how neat and clean everything was. Too clean, especially for a family with a child living in a world at war with the dead.
A petite blonde woman, hair in a perfectly trimmed bob, was a
t the sink, arranging flowers in an Oriental vase. She turned as Will and Rachael entered, face registering polite surprise at the presence of a stranger in her kitchen.
“Will?” she asked, confused.
“This is Rachael, Abigail. She’s the girl who saved Thomas.”
Abigail Manners nearly knocked Rachael over with the force of her hug. Tears welled up in her large blue eyes as she squeezed Rachael tightly. “Oh, thank you. Thank you! You saved our boy . . . you saved my Tommy. How can we ever repay you for what you did?”
Rachael patted her back awkwardly, not sure how else to handle the crying woman. When Tommy’s mother finally released her from the hug, Rachael said, “I have a few questions about Happy Valley and was hoping you could answer them for me.”
“Oh, of course! Please, sit down.” Abigail gestured to the dinette on the side of the kitchen, carefully set with more flowers.
Rachael nodded graciously and took a seat, smiling her thanks as Will set a bottle of soda down in front of her, popping the cap off it, and one of his own before sitting across from her. Abigail sat down next to him, grabbing for his hand and holding it tightly as if she was afraid to lose him too.
Both of them looked as stereotypically upper-class suburban as Rachael could imagine. Will in his striped polo and pressed khaki slacks, Abigail in a soft pink cardigan over a white blouse. These were people accustomed to comfort, to a certain standard of living. She doubted they’d last a day outside the walls of Happy Valley, though one thing that Rachael had learned over the last six months was that people could and would surprise you.
She thought about what Paloma had told her.
People could and would surprise you, for good or for bad.
“So what can we do you for?” Will asked in a hearty voice that grated against Rachael’s ears.
“I’d really just like to know how you like living here. Are you some of the original residents?”
“We are indeed,” Will said proudly. “Happy Valley has been around for nearly a decade. It was built as a community for residents who were looking for a safer way to live, away from the hustle and bustle of cities, but without being strictly rural. It was a nice, safe place to live. It wasn’t always as self-sufficient as it is now. Most things were brought in via delivery. Most of the shops we have now, for instance, are old homes or community buildings that we repurposed. But it’s always been a little piece of heaven, especially for those of us who were trying to find a way to leave the city life behind us.”
“Will used to work in New York City,” Abigail offered, “but we moved here when he got the opportunity to switch careers. I never wanted to raise children in the city, and Happy Valley seemed so perfect. So many good people, and so safe, especially compared to the high crime rates and bad schools in the city.”
Rachael nodded. “And after everything happened, I’m sure it seemed like it was meant to be.”