Chelsea Fine - Awry

Scarlet had just killed an Ashman. With a bloodstained butcher knife from her past that she’d thrown with deadly precision and instinctive force.

Scarlet’s hands started shaking as Heather’s big eyes left the ashy remains of her attacker and turned to Scarlet.

“O. M.G.” Heather blinked. “My best friend is a badass.”

Tristan followed everyone out of the old graveyard, into the new one, and back to Scarlet’s car.

“How did you do that?” Gabriel looked at Scarlet.

“I don’t know.” Scarlet was breathing heavy. “I don’t know.”

“That was incredible,” Nate said. “You hurled that knife like a pro. I’ve never seen you do something like that before. Where did you learn how to do that?”

“I have no idea.” Scarlet’s palms were sweaty.

“A better question,” Tristan said, “is, where the hell are the rest of the corpses? If Raven used a spell to bring them back to life to be her little minions, then where is she storing them?”

“Probably in my house somewhere,” Scarlet said. “Like my bedroom closet. Or under my bed. There’s probably an army of Ashmen rifling through my underwear drawer right this minute.” Scarlet made a face. “I can’t believe my guardian is Raven. So lame.”

Nate sighed. “Okay, well now that we know what we’re dealing with—resurrected dead people, fun!—we can make a plan to defend ourselves. Clearly, Scarlet’s weapons can kill the Ashmen. Why? I have no idea. But since Scarlet is some kind of secret ninja with an arsenal of weapons back at the shack I say we go get loaded up on Ashman-killing weapons and confront Laura—Raven—whatever, and figure out how to keep her from, you know, sending killers after us.” Nate looked at Scarlet and shrugged. “And, hey, maybe while we’re at it, we can rinse the blood off your weapons. No offense, Scarlet, but really? Dirty weapons?”

Tristan smiled to himself. Not long ago, Gabriel had lectured Tristan about the same thing: blood-covered weapons. Apparently, Tristan wasn’t the only cardholder of the bloody weapons club.

A thought hit him and Tristan froze.

“My blood.” Tristan said.

Everyone else stopped walking as well and stared at him.

Tristan shook his head. “My blood was on the arrow that killed the first Ashman.” Months ago, Tristan had attempted to kill himself using a variety of weapons and hadn’t bothered to wash his blood off of them afterward. “That’s what was different about my weapon. That’s why your Lord of the Rings sword didn’t work the other night.”

“Zelda sword,” Nate corrected.

“You think your blood is what killed the Ashman?” Gabriel scratched his jaw.

Tristan said, “Maybe.”

“Then whose blood was on Scarlet’s knife just now?” Heather asked.

“I’m not sure.” Tristan shook his head.

“Let’s take the knife back to the cabin and I’ll test the blood,” Nate said.

“Well, good luck with that.” Heather said. “The fair starts in a half hour and I have to work the Millhouse booth.”

Scarlet looked at her. “You can’t go to work, Heather. It’s not safe.”

“True. But unlike all you immortals,” Heather wiggled her fingers at them, “I have a job. And a family. And my family will be mad if I get fired from my job. So you four can go play Immortals verses Zombies or whatever, but I promised Clare I wouldn’t ditch work again.” She shrugged.

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair as he looked around. “How about this. Maybe we’ll all go to the fair so Heather’s not vulnerable to any bad guys and, while we’re at it, we’ll look for Laura. Raven. Whatever.”

“Good idea.” Nate clasped his hands together.

“That’s a terrible idea.” Tristan shrugged.

Nate ignored him. “We can confront Laura, detain her, and break into her house to steal the magic flower. That way, she won’t be able to make any more Ashmen.”

“I like it.” Gabriel agreed.

“I hate it.” Tristan crossed his arms.

Nate glared at Tristan. “You hate everything.”

Heather cleared her throat. “You know what I hate? Being late for work. So I’m walking to the fair.”

“I’ll go with you,” Scarlet said as she followed after Heather. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Scarlet?” Gabriel said, and Scarlet turned around. “Uh…do you maybe want to let me hold on to the knife?” He glanced at the bloody butcher knife in her hand that she had retrieved from the pile of ashes left by the Ashman in the old graveyard. “You know, just so you don’t scare the townspeople?”

Scarlet looked down at her weapon as she handed it to Gabriel.

It was probably better for Scarlet not to prance into the fair with a bloodstained weapon. Small town folks tended to get gossipy about stuff like that.

“Thanks.” Gabriel tucked the knife under his coat.

Tristan stared out at the sky as the sun fell below the horizon. Lights began to click on in the distance where the park was set up for the fair.

It was nearly nighttime. They had just discovered that Raven was alive and had an army of zombies armed with immortal-killing weapons. And what were they doing?

Going to a fair.

Fantastic.

The first night of the Avalon Fair was everything it promised to be. Colored twinkle lights lit up the square and stands advertising muffins and cider and pies and soups were all over the park.

A Ferris wheel was set up in the center of the park and a large, colorful carousel twirled about beside the park’s large, white gazebo.

And, if Gabriel wasn’t mistaken, there was a petting zoo off to the side full of goats, llamas, pigs and sheep. Pony rides were available beside a dunk tank in the park and jugglers everywhere were tossing pins, balls, and fire through the air.

Live music came from a band set up in the middle of Main Street and people everywhere walked around with treats and hot cups.

It was chaos. Colorful chaos, but chaos nonetheless. And it was the perfect place to get stabbed by a member of the living dead.

Whose idea was this again?

Heather was merrily passing out to-go cups of Millhouse coffee at her booth, wearing a black apron over her pink dress and an extra-friendly smile while Gabriel stood beside the stand and watched.

When there was a break in the long line of coffee patrons, Heather turned her fake smile to the Gabriel and walked over to him, her vanilla perfume sliding into his nostrils.

“Really, Gabriel? It’s a fair. Go ride a pony or something. Don’t just loiter.”

Usually, Heather was quite a bit shorter than Gabriel. But with her tall shoes on, her eyes were level with his mouth.

“I’m not going to ride a pony.” Gabriel glanced around. “My job is to make sure you don’t have any Ashman run-ins, so forgive me if I loiter .”

She filled a cup and thrust it toward Gabriel. “Then at the very least pretend to be enjoying yourself so the customers don’t think our coffee makes people pouty.”

Scarlet looked around the town square carefully. “I don’t see Laura anywhere.” She stood with Nate and Tristan beside the tall Ferris wheel, just a few yards away from Heather and Gabriel.

The fair was well underway and everyone in the town was there to celebrate. Laughing, dancing, and throwing darts at balloons in order to win giant, stuffed animals that looked like toy store rejects.

Scarlet wasn’t crazy about her town’s community events. But at least no one was trying to kiss her at this one.

Nate exhaled. “Well, we need to find her so we can detain her.”