Fairies Versus Zombies [COMPLETED]

4

The deadings arrived in a massive herd. The stench in the air grew thicker than the fog. She recognized them. These deadings were all fairies from the next village over. There was their duke, the brother of the long-dead fairy queen. There was their librarian. A pang of sadness. There was her cousin. Chloe flew to a tree and snapped off a branch. With its pointy end, it was kind of like a spear.

I have to Ground. For real. Like, I have to stay there for a while. Chloe hyperventilated, teetered, swallowed acid. Focus. I hope Captain Dina didn't see that. She gazed at the deadings, then the ground, and then narrowed her vision to a single pile of twigs. Now. Don't think. She stepped off of the branch and let her wings float her down. She clutched her spear. Her boots touched down.

Grounded. Chloe puked onto the duff and wiped her mouth. The deadings hadn't noticed her, but one of them was alone.

She was a hag, wings limp and sweaty with green liquid. Good. Their wings are still wet. The putrefaction in the air made Chloe gag, and the noise attracted the old woman.

The hag oozed the smell of gangrene, and the wet dragging of her bubbling wings twisted Chloe's entrails. She sensed phantom teeth digging into her from behind.

Someone will yell if I'm being approached. Trust the others.

The old hag limped. One of her legs dragged. Chloe could see through the rags of her dress; the old woman had been gnawed on from ankle to thigh. As the deading closed in, Chloe recognized her. Hilda. She'd taught at the fairy school for generations. Now she sold the pies that Shaun loved so much. Hilda smelled like gooseberries and her own decomposing guts. She paused. Sneered. Chloe lowered her spear. Does she recognize me? Hilda babbled and pitched toward her.

Chloe jammed her makeshift spear into Hilda's right eye, jiggling the tip deeply into the socket. Hilda wriggled on the end of the spear like a stuck minnow, then quieted. Chloe lifted her boot to Hilda's bloody stomach and pushed the hag off of the edge of the spear, gagging as Hilda's guts slimed the stick, leaving behind ooze. The stick dripped.

Get off of the ground. Her wing made her path crooked and her disgust and horror made her slow, but she flew up to Captain Dina, who was conferring with Shaun. Shaun's face was smeared with gooseberry juice. Chloe looked away.

"We have to injure their brains," Chloe said. "Really smash them. That's what kills them." She dropped her spear, fell to her knees, and puked over the edge of the tree branch onto the wailing herd of deadings below.

"Good," Shaun said. "Now we can make a plan." He stroked her back as she vomited. "I've set up a temp clinic on the porch of The Hatchery. That's far enough away from the fighting to be safe, but close enough to be convenient."

"Queensblood," Captain Dina said. "Be more careful, Chloe. You're not a soldier."

Den landed on the branch beside her, his own acorn-whistle necklace swinging. Shaun removed his hand from Chloe's back and Captain Dina stared. Den's dark hair was beading with sweat and his cheekbones were bruised. He's delicious. He's okay. Chloe melted into his arms. He brushed her hair from her mouth.

"Hey, slugabug," Den said. He enfolded her in an embrace. He lifted her and flew her several branches higher, leaving the others behind. During those moments of flight, Chloe rested her head against his chest and listened to the beat of his heart. When he landed, she sat against the trunk. Den collected water into a leaf, then handed it to her.

"Drink, Sluggo."

"There's only one way to kill them," Chloe said. "We have to spike them through the eyes."

"Archers can do that. And the fairies with slingshots," Den said. He caressed her cold, bare shoulders. "What happened to your wing?"

"Mean wasp," Chloe said. "We'll talk about that later, but wasps, they're bad. Or some are." She gulped in fog. "We don't have enough archers to take the deadings. And not enough of us are good enough with a slingshot. The only way get enough of us involved is to..."

"We have to Ground," Den said. He bowed his head. "Is that really the way it has to be?"

"We're all going to die," Chloe said. "We can't fight if we're all Groundsick." Despair poured through her.

"Oh no you don't," Den said. "You've been our best help so far, and you're the one who's going to get us out of this mess. Here. More water." Chloe drank. He touched his forehead to hers. "I should have been a better husband," he said. Chloe ignored him.

"How?" she wailed. "How'm I going to help?" Water dribbled down her jaw and neck. Den lifted her chin.

"I don't know. You'll get an idea." He hugged her, avoided her injured wing. "Queensblood. Look at your face. How'd it get so scraped up?" He kissed her between the eyes. "I'll help you. I'll try to do better now." He sat back on his heels. "Even if we're not..."

"...married anymore." Chloe sniffed. Den extended his hand. Their fingers touched. So warm. My Denny. He stood.

"I'm going to go put the littlest children as high up in the trees as I can get them," he said. He glanced at Chloe. Waited. He expects me to have a plan.

"I'm going to round up the teenagers. When you're done with the littles, get as many porcupine quills as you can. Give them to the teens to distribute."

"That's my slugabug." Den's face reddened. "I'm sorry, Sluggo. I'm sorry for everything." He leaned in. Kissed her. Before her eyes closed and she dissolved into the kiss, Chloe saw Captain Dina staring at them, sadness in her eyes. She's the one I should be kissing.

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