The Coming Dead

Chapter 1

When my father announced we where moving, I instantly felt my stomach tighten. Of course, I ignored it and simply put it down to not wanting to leave my friends and what I had left of my family. Looking back on it, I guess I shouldn't have.

After my mother died, I wasn't really content with moving away from all I had ever known. But not only was I twelve, but I'm female as well, leaving me no room to argue and no say in my living arrangements. And so, I was to live with my father just outside a little town in the middle of nowhere named Armadillo.

We had to go by train from Blackwater, so I couldn't bring many of my things. Only whatever could fit in my suitcase and a little rucksack, which meant not much. Clothes and a few dollies, as well as the slingshot my deceased elder brother had made for me.

I remember hating the town the minute we pulled into the train station. I had cursed it under my breath as I dragged my belongings through the train and off onto the platform. I continued to do so until we entered the saloon we would stay at for the first few nights while everything was sorted regarding our soon-to-be property. I stood up straight and stared blankly ahead as I weaved between tables, carefully avoiding drunken men's wondering hands. I climbed the stairs and walked into my room. I closed the doors and let out a sigh of relief as I dropped my rucksack on the bed in the corner and lay my suitcase down behind the door. I slipped out of my clothes and into a thin, plain white nightgown. I crawled under my bed covers and promptly fell asleep.

I slept all through the night, not waking up once.

The next day I began school. My classmates were unkind, my teacher cruel. I had been home schooled by my mother before her death, so this was an entirely new experience for me, and my peers and teacher were not tolerant enough for my mistakes. So, during break, instead of eating with the other children I would hide away in the general store.

The shopkeeper, Herbet Moon, was an odd old man. Crazy, and hated everyone. Especially Jews, females and the like. But, at least with Mr. Moon, I would not be called names and have stones thrown at me. He may have hated women, but he hated cowards more, and anyone who hit women was a coward in his book. I still had to endure his constant whining about people though, but in never truely bothered me. I was happy, as long as I was away from my classmates.

Oh, but what I'd give to see them sneering at me in disgust again.

Eventually, school hours would end and I would walk to my room in the saloon, and later the ranch, play with my dolls and do chores before sleeping.

On the third day I met up with my father outside the theater/schoolhouse. He sat astride a large palomino horse and beside him stood a smaller chestnut horse with black socks. The brown horse was tacked up but lacked a rider. It took me a few minutes to comprehend what was happening, but I eventually did realize what was going on and promptly patted the horse and mounted. 

The horse, Chelsea as I later named her, was a bribe of course. And, against my will, the bribe did work.

Less than a week after that, the undead plague descended on our sleepy little town.

I was buried deep under the covers of my bed in the farm house, smiling, blissfully unaware of the events outside. I had learnt the day I moved here how to block out the early morning sounds of the farm and nearby town. And so I didn't hear my fathers boots clack against the floorboards or my door creak open as he entered. I only noticed his presence when he gently laid his warm gloved hand on my thinly covered shoulder. I opened my eyes and groggily ground out a word.

'Father...?' I questioned. I see him nod slightly through blurry eyes.

'Evelyn, get up and get dressed in your work clothes. Pack light, only put what you need in your rucksack. Be quick and quiet. I'll pack your saddlebag. Five minutes.' He orders sternly and promptly leaves the room. I nod at the door, eyes slowly going wide as I register the sounds coming from the west. Screams. Gunshots. I leap up from bed and dress, before packing my rucksack and slinging it carelessly over my shoulder. I run downstairs.

'Father? Father, whats going on?' I ask in a panic. My father turns to me.

'Quiet, Evelyn!' He snaps before answering my question. 'Somethin's made the villagers go mad. Mad like dogs. I have to stay here and fight, but your going with a wagon train out to Fort Mercer, along with the other women and children.' He leads me outside to where Chelsea is tied up. I mount her. My father ties on my saddlebag. 'Harold is going to meet you on the other side of town. Ride there as fast as you can and don't stop for anything. Understand?'

'Yes, Father.' I reply.

'Good. Now, I love you Evelyn.'

'I love you too, Father.' I say, hot tears beginning to build up in my eyes. He nods.

'Now go!' He shouts. I nod and do as instructed, speeding off into a terrified gallop towards the burning town.

(918 words isn't bad for my first chapter, I think. Anyway, thanks for reading and making it to the end. Also, again, thank you The Grey Wolf Ghost! I'm really happy you allowed me to use your fantabulous idea!

Here is the link to his account on Fanfiction.net:

https://www.fanfiction.net/u/3573651/The-Grey-Wolf-Ghost

Here is the link to the original story of The Coming Dead:

 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8191382/1/The-Coming-Dead)