Wicked Hungry

“Zombies,” he says. “The riders are pulling back toward the house and taking Stanley’s friends with them.”

“How many are there?” asks Nye.

“Dozens. They encircle the house.”

“Is Zach among them?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Blaine says. “But they appear well organized.”

“The house is well-protected,” says Morgaine. “We should be fine in here.”

“And those that are left outside, Milady?” asks Nye.

“Are your riders afraid of a few shamblers?” asks Blaine.

“Afraid of hurting them, yes,” says Nye. “Remember, Gatekeeper, they were all human children once. And will be again, once this enchantment is over.”

“They will stop being zombies?” I ask.

“If we can break them of their addiction, they’ll be normal again,” says Nye. “The danger is that in such great numbers they could overwhelm us. And force us to kill them to get away. I, too, want to know who controls them.”

“It must be the Seelie queen,” Blaine says.

“But how?” says Morgaine, shaking her head. “She has always been our friend, not foe.”

“Then someone else in her court, perhaps,” says Nye.

Morgaine turns to him. “I’m sorry, Nye, I’d just asked you to tell me about my daughter.”

“And her friend,” I say again.

But there is knocking on the door, stronger now. Blaine growls and leaves, Nye following him.

The voices are louder this time, more strident.

Then Blaine is back, looking pale. “The zombies are leaving.”

“Well that is good news,” Morgaine says.

But Blaine shakes his head. “They are being pursued. By ghouls.”

Nye enters. “My knights are forming a wedge to protect the zombie children. The zombies continue to flee, but the ghouls are hungry.”

There are shouts, the sound of pitched battle, and a lot of screams. Inhuman screams. But not from wolves. Maybe from the riders?

Hair rises on the back of my neck. The beast within me wants out. “I need to go,” I say. “My friends are out there.”

“Control yourself,” says Blaine, grabbing my arm. “Remember, my men are out there, too.”

“I, too, need to get outside,” Nye says. “My knights need me.”

“I thought you were in my service,” Morgaine says.

Beads of sweat shine on Nye’s pale brow underneath his shiny black hair. “You are right, Milady. Your wish is... my command.”

I want to interrupt and run out the door. There are screams and growls and the sounds of battle. But Blaine squeezes my arm, vise-like.

“Tell me what you have to tell me,” Morgaine says. “And then you may go to your knights.” She nods to me. “And you may go to your friends.”