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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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Warning: this chapter contains graphic scenes of violence involving dead bodies.
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Mrs. Lloyd wants to dig up Andrew and Agnes' graves.
What little I'dchoked down for breakfast threatens to come up. My heart's pounding too fast, my breathing too shallow.
Silence spreads through the church like a plague until the voice of Ambrose Washington, the town butcher, cuts through the tension. "You want us to go on a witch hunt?" His voice is strained, his lips barely visible beneath his bushy, black beard.
Mrs. Lloyd's eyes dart around the congregation as if searching for support. No one speaks up. "They're not witches—they're Undead. And yes. That's the way they're doing it in Rhode Island."
Papa steps through the crowd, a deep frown creasing his forehead. "You cannot honestly believe that innocent children are rising from the dead?"
Her chin rises, one brow arched in a challenge. "Are you implying my sister is lying, Mr. Alexander?"
"No one's implying anything." Pastor Turner turns to Mrs. Lloyd, his expression unreadable. "What proof do you have that this is happening?"
Mrs. Lloyd squares her shoulders and slips a pale hand into the pocket of her overcoat. "I'm so glad you asked." Pulling out a folded piece of paper, she hands it over. "This is the letter I received yesterday morning. At first, I thought my sister was teasing, but Tilly's not as good-natured as I am. She's actually rather dull."
With careful precision, Pastor Turner studies the note until his throat bounces with a hard swallow.
After a long silence, Constable Webster leans forward, his eyes shifting between our pastor and the piece of paper shaking in his hands. "Well—what does it say?"
Tiny hairs prickle across the nape of my neck. Whatever happens next has the potential to change our lives. I can feel it, the same way one senses an approaching storm.
The pastor releases a long sigh. "The letter validates her claim."
My breathing shallows as shocked whispers buzz around the room. I reach out in search of Honor and my fingers close around his hand. His skin is cool and clammy.
