Then strangely, red dress bends down, grabs my arm, and gently lifts me up. She says gently, “He shouldn’t have done that. Something tells me that I need to know you better. My name’s Thresh. Let’s sit and talk, between women.” She gives the man that knocked me down a sullen frown. He looks at me nervously and recedes into the darkness of the woods.
We walk over to a musty canvas tent. The interior is simple, with a table, a cot, and three chairs. “Sit,” Thresh commands. She produces a bottle of amber-tinted shine and pours two cups. “I know who you are.”
A trickle of sweat runs down my back. My hand trembles as I reach for the cup and take a sip.
“You’re the mother of the little one and a descendent of a line of people close to the earth. You’re a Marksman. Isn’t it strange how fate brought you here to us?”
Anger replaces fear. “Where’s my daughter? What have you done with her?” I search the tent for a weapon. I consider pummeling her with my chair.
“So, I’m correct.” Thresh settles back in her chair and gulps her drink.
I rise and lunge for her. In an impossible instant, she’s risen and blocks me with her staff, which I swear wasn’t there a moment ago. She pushes me back into my chair.
She snorts. “What’s your first name, Marksman? You’ll be joining us for a long time, so we should get to know each other.” I stare at her wishing she’d die. “That’s fine if you choose not to chat. You’ll eventually turn around. You’re wondering what’s special about you and your daughter, yes? What makes you two worth so much death and mayhem? And there’s a lot of blood on your back, Marksman.” She cracks her neck and stretches luxuriously. “Well, you have a gift, a connection with the earth. This ability to see…” She pauses. “Feel or sense what’s beyond the greenery and the soil and the very fabric of all this…well, that’s special. Turns out that I have that too. And, for all I know, we’re the only people left on earth who can do that.”
She doesn’t know about Flip. Or maybe she does. Perhaps the attack on his village also happened because he was different like me — us. I look over this red woman and wonder if she really believes what she just told me. I suppose I ought to talk. Perhaps I can divine the location of Eliza and figure out a way for us to escape this horrible place. “My name’s Amy Marksman. I’ll do whatever it takes to get my girl back and kill you.”
Thresh laughs. “You’ll get your girl. But you won’t kill me. So, Amy, where’ve you been since we visited your town? Sorry about the mess.”
“Looking for my daughter. Can I see her?”
“If you tell me what I want to know. How many were traveling with you?”
“Ten others, heavily armed. They’ll come back for me. What are those things with you? They’re not of this earth, are they?”
Thresh doesn’t seem concerned about my exaggeration. “The creatures — we call them grubs. They found me, actually. I was living with my stepfather. My mother left him and me years ago. He was a mean, nasty son of a bitch. Beat me. The whole town turned their backs while he thrashed the hell out of me.” She pulls down the front of her dress and shows me scars running across her breasts and stomach. “I’m descended from a line of oystermen. We grew mussels and oysters for the village through the years. My stepfather exploited my gift and forced me to harvest beyond what the beds could support. His greed was killing the productive coastline that took my kin centuries to cultivate. I have a sister somewhere. She ran away years ago — too weak to face the man.”
“Where’d the grubs come from?” I’m afraid I already know the answer.
“They came down from the mountains in a thick, brown fog. Its the way the others-the ones from beyond this world, this reality — travel. They shape the grubs from the fog….use it like clay in their image and travel in them. I discovered I could talk with them — the grubs. I asked for emancipation. They’d give it to me for my allegiance. And my knowledge. They taught me how to use the fog to raise the dead — my own way to shape beings in my own way. Like a god. Can you believe the luck? The villagers saw that I could communicate with the grubs and feared me. The walking dead didn’t help, I guess.” She giggles. “They accused me of witchery and tried to hang me. The grubs and I eliminated them all. The townspeople serve me better dead than alive.”
“You sold out all those people for your freedom?”
“Gladly. My family fed those innocent people for generations and they turned on me. People fail you in the end. The grubs, they’re the family I’ve got. The images, visions, they send are magnificent. They hold promise for a new world. I want to be part of it. In charge of it.”
“The dead. How do you make them rise?”
“I don’t know exactly. I summon them and can see through their eyes. I think you’ll be able to see through them as well. I need you to join me.”
Realization dawns on me. I’m a freak like Thresh. I’m as much to blame for these horrors as she is. I gather my strength and ask, “Then who are those people with you?”
“Disciples. Converts. Not sure what to call them. But I convinced them that following me is the path to salvation. Or else they become dinner for the grubs.” She pauses, looking thoughtful. “Let’s go see your girl.”
I hate myself for feeling something strangely like gratitude toward Thresh. We rise and head for the entrance. We both jump at the sound of a woman’s voice outside. It’s Bets yelling for her captors to release her. We enter the clearing to find Bets flat on the ground, hands bound behind her back, flopping like a fish out of water. She sees me. “Marksman, for gods’ sake, what happened to you? Tell them to let me go.”
“Bets, I don’t think they’ll listen to me.”
Thresh orders her goons, “Let Bets stand up.” She turns to me. “I presume that you two are acquainted? Bets, please tell me. How many more of you are wandering the woods?”
Bets spits at Thresh, struggling to free herself from the arms of the two men holding her. She’s furious and bleeding profusely from her forehead.
I say, “Bets meet Thresh. I don’t think you two are going to see eye to eye on things. Bets, they have the monsters that destroyed our village. I’d do what they say or you’re going to be ripped to pieces and eaten.”
This declaration agitates Bets further as she’s dragged away into a nearby tent. I’ll find Eliza first and worry about Bets later. Thresh leads me to a small tent at the edge of the clearing. Joy fills me as I hear the sound of a little girl giggling. I rush toward the tent and am about to enter when I’m knocked back by a huge rush of air. It’s a concussion grenade smacking into one of the nearby tents. Thresh shouts orders to her followers. The grubs fan out toward the edge of the clearing. I try to rise but my left leg is limp. I look down at my hands, which are slick with blood. Impossibly white bone juts out of my shin. I murmur, “Eliza” and the scene vanishes.
I awake in the dark with Samuel standing over me. “Hush,” he whispers. “They’re searching for us and they’ve still got Bets.”
“Eliza?” I ask. I sit up and my vision blurs. I’m so close to her. They can’t stop me.
“Amy, I know. You’ve been saying her name for the past couple of hours. Your leg’s snapped and you have a nasty head wound. You ain’t going nowhere. Theo’ll get your girl back if she’s there.”
I hear yells, explosions, and shots in the distance. Theo and English appear, winded but unharmed. Theo asks how I am and looks at me sadly. He whispers, “We tried to get Liza but those things eat all our weapon fire. We can’t get close enough to hit any of the people.”