AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The worst part, if it is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. If I do, I lose Duncan. I can’t stand the idea that he might only be the literal man of my dreams. This must be real, no matter how it feels. If it’s not, I lose everything, maybe in a different way, but still.
I force myself to push those thoughts away. I am the Destroyer. No dream could be this real, but more than that, no dream could be this consistent. I’ve lived entirely too much of this for it to be a fantasy.
Doubt is powerful though. Subtle, invasive, and hiding beneath even my most positive of thoughts. If I accept this is real and that I am the Destroyer, then the one thought I’ve done my best to avoid looking at since it happened is also real.
Murderer.
Me. Not killer, I killed before, but always in self-defense. In an open contest it didn’t bother me. The one that haunts me when I close my eyes isn’t those I’ve killed in battles; it’s the boy I killed with magic. He was so young, probably only sixteen or seventeen years old. He didn’t even have a real beard yet. He’d probably never known the touch of a woman before I snuffed his life out.
“Quinn, are you okay?” Moira asks.
“Fine,” I snap.
“Quinn, whatever is happening—”
“I said I’m fine,” I interrupt Dugald before he can finish his thought. “Why can’t you listen to me?”
“Because of that,” Dugald says, waving his arm and pointing around us.
The dust on the ground is rising into the air and forms a wall of gray around us. My stomach drops and goose pimples rise on my skin. Inside of it blurry forms are taking shape.
ChapterFifteen
I swallow hard.The shapes coalesce, then one by one they emerge from the wall of dust. They’re humans. No, humanoid. No, still not it. There’s something wrong but I can’t see them clearly yet. The three of us turn so our backs are to each other.
“Quinn,” Moira says.
“I see it.”
Zombies. It’s freaking zombies.
When I was a little girl, I went to a Halloween sleepover and my friend put on the originalNight of the Living Dead.It left mental scars that affect me still. I’ve never forgotten that opening scene with the boyfriend teasing Barbara in the graveyard.
I’ve never watched a zombie movie since. Never been a fan of horror movies in general, but zombies are the worst. The idea of the dead getting up and walking around wanting to eat humans scares me more than it has any right to. After all, it’s just a fantasy, right?
Except it’s not. It’s here. Surrounding us and shuffling closer.
“Anyone have a bright idea?” I ask.
“Yes. Run,” Dugald says, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward.
I grab Moira’s hand and we cling to each other as we run. The swirling wall of dirt parts, creating a path that is funneling us forward, which isn’t disturbing in the slightest. Ofcoursethis is the way to go, even if it’s the only way without running headlong into an army of undead. Nothing suspicious in this at all. Right. I shake my head but there really is no choice. At least it’s moving us towards the tower.
Rotting hands, curled like claws, grasp at us as we run. When one manages to touch the exposed skin on my shoulder bile rises in my throat. Its touch is slimy, wet, and cold, reminding me of touching a fish, but worse. It fills me with revulsion.
Run. Keep running. I can’t let these things get me. All my childhood fears and every nightmare I’ve ever had floods my thoughts. I’m in pretty good shape after my training with the Druid, but even so I’m breathing ragged. Muscles scream with pain as I continue to push, and we keep running.
What you take into the land will be given form.
Queen Mab’s words drift across my thoughts. It makes perfect sense and obviously I can exert control on this. That’s what I did to heal Dugald’s arm after all; this should be easy. All I have to do is quit being afraid.
Right. So easy. The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. Great quote. Beautiful and so much easier to say than it is to do. Fear is invasive, primal, and not nearly so easily overcome as I want it to be.
The zombies groan as they march and it combines with the sounds of their shuffling steps, filling my ears. Fear swells, blinding rational thought, and all I can do is run. Keep running. Thankful for the Druid and for all the cardio he put me through. First rule of the zombie apocalypse after all.
“Quinn, it’s responding to you,” Moira pants.
“You think I don’t know that?” I gasp.
