That might have been the best sleep I’ve ever had. I could hardly remember the last time I didn’t have to get up in the middle of the night to stand watch.
When I woke, I wasn’t the only one already up. A handful of people were moving about quietly, speaking in hushed tones to avoid disturbing anyone still asleep. My own family, however, remained blissfully unaware of the morning, and Dan was nowhere in sight.
I stretched and then tidied up my bed to the best of my ability, careful not to step on my brother or father who were next to my mattress. With that done, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself.
When in doubt, there’s always one reliable course of action: eat. But do they serve breakfast here? Or was yesterday’s meal a one-off? The tables where soup was served last night stood empty now, devoid of any signs of life.
Well, no sense lingering around guessing. I’d better find the priest and ask. If anyone would know, it’s him.
I took one last glance at my sleeping family and stepped away quietly, heading out of the sleeping area, and closer to the back of the church where the stage with the pedestal is, or whatever it’s called. The morning light streamed in through the tall, stained-glass windows, painting the worn wooden floor in vivid hues of red, blue, and gold.
There was a group of people gathered nearby, talking softly. I figured they were my best bet for some quick information.
“Excuse me,” I said, trying to sound polite but still cutting through their conversation. “Do you know where I can find the priest?”
A middle-aged woman with a tired yet kind expression turned to me. “He’s probably in his office,” she said, pointing toward a narrow hallway off to the left. “Second door on the right.”
I nodded my thanks and made my way down the hallway. The muffled sounds of chatter and movement faded as I entered the corridor. It was dimly lit compared to the main hall, with plain wooden doors lining the walls. The second door on the right stood slightly ajar, and faint murmuring came from within.
I knocked lightly before peering inside. “Hello?”
The priest was kneeling beside a young boy. The child was sniffling, holding his arm gingerly, while his mother hovered nearby, her face etched with concern.
“Hold still,” the priest said gently, his voice calm but firm. He placed a hand over the boy’s arm, and a soft golden light began to emanate from his palm. The boy’s sniffles subsided, his wide eyes fixed on the glow as warmth and comfort replaced the sting of pain. Slowly, the bruise that had darkened his skin faded away, leaving only smooth, unblemished flesh behind.
I shouldn’t be surprised by anything at this point, but this casual display of magic took me aback.
“There we go,” the priest said with a smile, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Good as new. Be careful next time, all right?”
The boy nodded, his awe-struck expression mirrored by his mother’s gratitude.
I waited until the priest had risen to his feet and the family had stepped away before approaching him. “How did you just do that?”
The priest turned to me, his smile shifting into something both warm and enigmatic. "Healing magic," he said simply, brushing his hands together as if to dust them off. "It’s a gift, one bestowed upon me by the Lord. Though I suspect that’s not the reason you’re here."
I hesitated for a moment before responding. "No, you’re right. I was actually looking for you to ask about breakfast. Yesterday, the food was... well, let’s just say it was much appreciated, and I wasn’t sure if that was a one-time thing or if there’s something set up for the morning."
The priest let out a soft chuckle, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Ah, so you’re on the hunt for breakfast. Practical, I like that. Unfortunately free meals will only be given out once a day in the afternoon, both today and tomorrow. The military will be leaving after that, and so will the supplies.”
I nodded, though my stomach gave a faint grumble of protest. At least now I had a clear answer. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Of course,” the priest said. He hesitated for a moment, then extended his hand. “By the way, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Father Jackson.”
I shook his hand, his grip firm but not overbearing. “Nice to meet you, Father Jackson. I’m Max Silver.”
“Well, Max, if you need anything else, my door is always open.”
“Appreciate it,” I said, and with a small wave, I stepped back out into the hallway.
The quiet corridor felt a little less somber on the way back, the golden hues from the stained glass peeking through the main hall ahead of me. As I returned to the open space, I noticed a distinct shift in the atmosphere. My family was no longer bundled up on their makeshift beds. Instead, my parents were awake and up, talking softly near the center of the hall.
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“Good morning,” I greeted them as I approached. My father turned to me, looking more alert than I would’ve expected after the long night.
“Morning,” he replied. “Where’d you wander off to?”
“Just trying to figure out if there’s breakfast,” I said with a shrug. “Turns out, there isn’t. Food’s only in the afternoons while the military’s here.”
My mom excitedly suggested, “Maybe we could shop around at the tents outside? Maybe there are some fresh ingredients.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
*****
The gravel beneath their boots crunched with every step, the noise echoing in the still morning air as Samantha led her squad toward Commander Greene’s tent. Kate walked alongside her, humming some off-key tune that was barely recognizable, while Helena and Diana trailed behind, their movements more measured.
Helena’s voice broke the silence. “Are we going to be on time?”
Samantha glanced at her wrist, checking her watch with practiced ease. “Yes, the meeting starts in eleven minutes.” She scanned the area, noticing a few other squads heading in the same direction, the soldiers moving with the same mix of urgency and nonchalance that came with routine. The camp was already stirring to life, soldiers going about their daily business like clockwork.
“That’s practically a lifetime,” Kate said, “Don’t know why we need to rush, honestly. Maybe Greene’s got another one of those boring speeches lined up.”
Samantha shot her a side-eye but said nothing. She knew Kate’s disinterest in the routine meetings, but they had to go.
“Too noisy,” Diana muttered under her breath. Samantha didn’t need to ask what Diana meant—she could tell by the slight furrow of her brow that her mind was already elsewhere. As usual.
Helena, chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with a strange sort of amusement. "If you think this is too noisy," she said, her tone light, "wait until you hear the briefing. The Commander’s speeches could put a caffeine addict to sleep."
Samantha slowed her pace slightly, letting the others fall into step next to her as they approached the canvas walls of Greene’s tent. She wasn’t particularly excited about the meeting, either, but it was part of the job.
In front of the tent there were already twenty or so other soldiers, all waiting for Greene to step out and begin the speech. Samantha led her squad near the back of the bunch.
The air felt thick with impatience as the squad fell in line behind the others, and the low murmur of voices filled the space between the soldiers. Some looked like they were mentally preparing for whatever Commander Greene had in store, while others seemed to have already mentally checked out.
The chill autumn wind blew past, rustling everyone’s hair and the branches of nearby trees. Samantha stood at ease, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, scanning the crowd.
The minutes ticked by one after another until eventually the tent flaps parted.
Commander Greene emerged, a tall, imposing figure who commanded attention without even having to raise his voice. His uniform was immaculate, his posture rigid, the face set in its usual stern expression.
“Alright, listen up,” Greene began, his gravelly voice cutting through the low murmurs of the soldiers. “Tomorrow, we will finally move out to Frankensteins’ manor. We’ve gotten reports that all the local zombies have gone to defend the place so be prepared for that.”
The squad tensed at the mention of Frankenstein’s manor. They’d all heard about it from briefings back in Belford before they moved out. A mad scientist who was doing experiments on corpses, hence the nickname.
Greene continued, his voice hard, like the gravel under their boots. "We’ve split the operation into two phases. Johnson’s and Hank’s squads will be positioned outside to clear the perimeter. Your primary task will be neutralizing the zombie hordes gathered around the estate. Expect heavy resistance, but keep it tight and controlled. No heroics, no running off to play with the monsters inside. You hold the line and make sure that mansion stays surrounded." His gaze swept across the group, locking with each soldier in turn.
Greene paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before he continued, “Stephens’ and Samantha’s squads will be going in through the back. Your objective will be to find and kill Frankenstein to finally put a stop to this undead plague. Once done, leave immediately and join the other squads in clearing the perimeter.”
“Timing will be critical,” Greene continued. “The squads outside will create a diversion, drawing as much attention as possible. You’ll have a short window to slip in undetected. Inside, expect confined spaces, close-quarters combat, and God knows what else. Shotguns will be provided for this task.”
Greene’s tone grew sharper, his gaze piercing as he finished. “I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake here. If Frankenstein’s experiments make it past this region, we’ll be looking at an outbreak that spreads faster than we can contain it. You’ve trained for this. Trust your squad, trust your instincts, and get the job done. Squad leaders meet me here again tomorrow for further details, same time as today. The rest of you will stay here at the church. Dismissed.”
The soldiers began dispersing, some muttering among themselves about the mission, while others remained silent, their faces set in grim determination. Samantha turned to her squad, her mind already racing through the details of the operation.
“We’ve got our work cut out for us,” she said, her voice steady despite the weight of Greene’s words. “Helena, Diana, I want a full gear check tonight. Make sure we’re ready for close-quarters combat.
“Got it,” Helena said crisply, her earlier levity replaced by professionalism. Diana simply nodded, her expression unreadable as always, but Samantha knew she’d do her part without fail.
As the squad moved away from the tent, the tension in the camp seemed to weigh heavier on their shoulders. The knowledge of what lay ahead—Frankenstein’s manor, the hordes of undead, the mad scientist behind it all—was enough to make anyone uneasy. But Samantha knew they had a job to do, and hesitation wasn’t an option.
They returned to their tent in relative silence, the weight of the upcoming mission pressing down on each of them in their own way. Helena immediately set to work, checking their weapons with meticulous care. Diana sat on her bunk, sharpening her combat knife with slow, deliberate strokes, her focus absolute. Kate sprawled on her cot.
The squad worked late into the night, ensuring every piece of gear was in perfect condition, every contingency planned for. When they finally turned in, the camp had grown quiet, the occasional crackle of a campfire the only sound breaking the silence.
Samantha lay on her bunk, staring at the canvas ceiling of their tent. The weight of leadership was heavy, but it was one she carried willingly. Tomorrow, they’d face whatever horrors waited in that cursed manor. Tomorrow, they’d put an end to Frankenstein’s madness.