Page 91 of Hollow Child

Before meeting Christopher, I had confided in Wyatt of my plans, because I would not be able to proceed without help. Wyatt had been surprised, but he eventually agreed. He was curious about the whole prospect, but he also wanted to ensure that I was safe, because our mother would never forgive him if something went wrong.

Wyatt and I carried Christopher to the shed where he did his experiments. Normally, he would send me away, but since this was for me, he let me watch him work. To make it as safe as possible, he cut Christopher’s hands below the elbow and his legs below the knee, cauterizing and sewing up the wounds after each amputation. Once he was done, he sewed up Christopher’s mouth, and all that was left was turning him.

A limb from a different infected zombie, fresh and dripping blood, would be the source. Wyatt handed it to me. Christopher was awake, thrashing as much as his stubby limbs would allow, but he couldn’t escape. I held the zombie arm over his face, letting the infected blood drip into his mouth and into the open wounds from sewing his full lips shut.

It took just over three days for the transformation to be complete. I didn’t see Christopher at all during the change. Wyatt had told me that it was a disgusting process, and he even had to hose Christopher off before he finally brought me in.

His stumps were festering, even with Wyatt’s stitches and cauterizations. He was pale and sickly, and his lips were swollen and infected. But I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw his eyes were the same. I was afraid that since becoming a zombie he would lose that brilliant emerald color, but they were still so enchanting.

A collar around Christopher’s neck was secured tothe wall behind him, because my brother was being so cautious. Deep down in my heart, IknewChristopher would not harm me, zombie or not. He had a pure soul, and he had been chosen for this the same way that I had been. It was our destiny, and we could not fight it.

Once Wyatt left me alone with Christopher, I approached him. He was lying on his back, writhing and wriggling, but he did not move away. He lifted his head, his lips straining against the thick black nylon that sewed them shut, and when his eyes met mine, I knew that he would say my name if he could. He wanted this as much as I did.

Wyatt had left Christopher naked to make it easier for me, and a zombie’s body would still react to sensations, especially since he was fresh. He breathed, though he needed no oxygen, and he strained toward me, like a plant toward sunlight.

When I touched him, his body responded, and when he was ready, I climbed on top of him. I tried to control it, but his body knew what to do. He thrashed and finished inside me in a matter of minutes the very first time we were together.

For seven days, I visited Christopher at least once per day, spending ten minutes together trying to create our destiny. On the eighth day, he was no longer able to perform, let alone finish. Wyatt had said that he must’ve dried up. Since there was no more use for him, I kissed him goodnight, and Wyatt took an axe to Christopher. So he wouldn’t go to waste, the servants ground him up to feed to the zombie horde.

It took weeks for me to confirm it, but deep down, I had known it had worked the very first time we were together. Christopher and I had created a new life together, and I was pregnant.

Elmyra was confused and upset when she learned I was with child. All I would tell her was this was whatwas always destined to happen, because I didn’t want her to get angry with Wyatt. Our relationship suffered, but it was what was necessary.

The life of the chosen ones is never easy. Elmyra locked me in my room, and she brought in new servants. They were jealous of all that we had, and in a rage, they burned down the ranch. They murdered my brother Wyatt, slaughtered our zombies, and tried to kill my mother.

I was seven months pregnant when it happened, and the stress of it caused me to give birth two days later.

I hate to say that I cannot remember the night I gave birth to my first child. It was a blur of stress and loss and agony and joy. The fires were still burning in the fields, and the house smelled like smoke and ash as Elmyra held my hand and told me to push.

But I do remember the moment my son was placed in my arms, so tiny and wriggling, reminding me of his father. He looked like a newborn piglet, all covered in blood, but when I wiped it away, I could see his skin had the same ashy green color of a zombie.

He opened his eyes, and they were Christpher’s eyes, that same brilliant green. But I knew that he was something else. Something the world had never seen before. A hybrid savior for all mankind.

He was my son, the Wonderous Chosen One.

53

Remy

The zombie gorilla that Harlow had called the King was perched on the roof of the old church, like some kind of postapocalyptic gargoyle. Behind him, the dark smoke appeared red, reflecting the firelight back down on Emberwood. The King was looking right at us. One of his eyes was normal, while the other was bulging and full of zombie blood green veins.

“I don’t mean to rush you, Remy,” Boden said beside me. “But I am fairly certain that the monstrous monkey over there can jump to this roof and squash us all, so I think it’s best that we get the hell out of here.”

“Rushing is probably for the best right now,” I agreed and got to my feet.

“What was your plan to get into the church alive?”

Instead of answering him, I wound up my arm with the sledgehammer before letting it loose. My aim was good, and the hammer crashed dead center through the large circular stained-glass window above the choir balcony. The glass shattered, creating a big opening to jump through.

The King was apparently upset by the sound, and he let out a demonic bellow before angrily pounding his chest with his fists.

I started running across the garage roof toward the old church, picking up as much speed as I could on a slanted surface. I jumped and dove forward and wentstraight through the window.

Ripley followed right after me, both of us crash landing on the balding carpet and shattered glass in the old choir balcony.

“Ah, shit!” Boden shouted, and I could hear the gorilla thundering across the church roof above me.

I scrambled to my feet in time to see Boden come tumbling through the window. Ripley was shaking the glass out of her fur, and I took Boden’s hand and helped him up.

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