New Borns
It seemed like forever, but it hadn’t been long. Maybe a few years, but realistically it started long before that.
They had wormed their way into society for centuries without a single soul taking any notice; preying on humans for hundreds of years before they made it happen. No one really knows how they did it, made the sun disappear, but it was a ritual hundreds of years in the making. Society toppled as a result, making humans easy targets for those averse to the sun. It didn’t take long before humans scattered and hid, attempting to ensure their survival. But people fight like they tend to do, supplies became harder to come by as stocks were picked clean and that made it harder to continue to live.
Some made it work, however. There were those that found a way to bond together and trust one another, forming small groups, families…even cults as a way to keep their people alive—or control the power over them. It varied on who you encountered. But Saint Andrews church in the pit of London was a place where people seemed to get along and foster growth between one another, protecting each other from what slithered in the dark.
(*)
“Everyone is fed. Time to take a break and wind down.” Rogue sighed as she dropped down into a pew situated in the sanctuary of St. Andrew’s church.
“We’re running out of meat, you know. I’m sure you know. There are going to be a lot of unhappy carnivores out there in a few days.” Harlow sat back in her pew, kicking her booted feet up on the back of the one in front of them.
“Someone is going to have to go hunting. Either that or we’re body picking and tell them that it’s pork.” Rogue scoffed, picking her nails with a sewing needle.
Harlow chuckled, “From what I know, pig and long-pig taste vastly different. They’d know.”
“We’ll see. I’ll make an announcement tomorrow about a hunting party. It’s going to take days, though.” Rogue commented, rising from her seat to take one next to Harlow.
Harlow sighed, relaxing as Rogue laid her head in her lap, “We do what we have to, Rogue, my dear. We wouldn’t have made it this far if we didn’t. Things are just slim because of the snow, but we will figure it out.”
“Always the voice of reason, you are. I know we’ll make it. But for tonight, sleep. We ate late and the cold makes me want to tuck in. Niridia should be finished with dish duty, so I’m going to go check on her.” Rogue sat up in Harlow’s lap and slid off the pew.
“I’ll go make sure the doors are all secure so we can sleep in peace.” Harlow was right up after her, giving Rogue a knowing glance before the two parted ways.
St. Andrew’s was not some simple church. It was in fact a 15th century behemoth that had stood the test of time and weathered the ages quite well until the sun disappeared. It had been a place where men and women had been taken and tried during the witchcraft accusations in the centuries prior and had baptized many a royal baby in its hay-day, but now it stood a shadow of its former self. The front entryway had crumbled during the first waves that Harlow had termed “celestial rains”, where large chunks of rock fell from sky, destroying many buildings and starting quite a few fires all over the city. This left the only other accessible entrance in the old basement down a long dark hall that was scarcely lit.
A clock on the wall struck eleven and startled Harlow with its staccato bonging.
“It’s eleven o’clock and all’s well.” She spoke to herself with a hushed tone as she walked to the end of the hall and checked the door that led out into the snowy evening.
It wasn’t locked.
She tried to remember who had been the last one through the door so she could give that person a gentle reminder, when a rustling behind her caused her head to turn to the side, listening intently.
Harlow turned the bolt on the door before calmly taking her key to lock the bottom lock when she heard the noise again, but it sounded like it had come from above. If the door was unlocked, there was a possibility something had snuck inside, but it wouldn’t be one of them since they were situated on holy ground.
“I can hear you. Better come out and show yourself instead of starting a fight.” Harlow spoke calmly as she whirled around to find an empty hallway. There was no place for a person to hide without her seeing.
But there was that tingly sensation in the air that told her something was amiss and needed to be investigated. There were shadowed places in the halls, alcoves where long ago burned candles in candelabras once sat. Someone could have potentially been hiding.
There was now a haze in the air, the sconces on the walls illuminating a smoke like fog that hung close to the ceiling. A smell like frying meat wafted down with a cold breeze and Harlow could now hear the hiss of movement across the ceiling and down into a darkened alcove. She could feel herself begin to shake with adrenaline, the thought that something had gotten in and everyone was too far away to yell for assistance had heightened her awareness. Whatever it was, she was going to have to stop it on her own.
“Fucking show yourself! I know you’re there; I can smell you burning.” Harlow hissed into the shadows, gripping the silver chain around her waist.
A low growl rippled through the air from whatever was crawling along in the shadows and before she could make another command, it was on top of her.
Harlow whipped the silver chain from her waist and caught the thing around the neck, spinning its body over her back before it came crashing to the ground. She could see them better at this point and noted that it was a man, an undead man, who was grey in complexion with eyes full of blood and a mouth to match.
“You picked the wrong place to hunt, mate.” Harlow clicked her tongue before she dove at the man with the silver chain again.
But he dodged and scampered up the wall, hanging upside down from the ceiling like some oversized spider. He reached down with vibrating hands to snatch Harlow by the shoulders, but she was just that much quicker and slipped out of the way before the man came crashing down to the ground. He crouched in front of her, ready to strike like some cornered animal.
Despite the scuffle, they must not have been making very much noise because no one came to intervene, but the man was working his way down the hallway and deeper into the church, his skin hissing and bubbling as he went. Even if Harlow didn’t kill him, the faith of the church just might.
“I’ll give you one chance to spare your life. Let me open the door and set you free.” Harlow tried to reason with him, hoping to end this peacefully. As much as his kind was a threat to them, this type was somehow both innocent and wild. The freshly turned. The New Borns. It wasn’t his fault.
The man cocked his head to the side as if he was listening and considering what she said, but he didn’t respond. So, Harlow took a step back towards the door and the man took a step forward towards her. Her movements had him convinced that he was stalking as he waddled forward every time she took a step back.
He was hunting her.
Harlow had made it to the door and fiddled with the bolt behind her…but she still needed the key to open it.
“There’s nothing for you here. Go catch a rabbit like the rest of us.” Harlow whispered at the animalistic man as she stalled for time, cautiously feeling for the key in her pocket.
The man yet again cocked his head to the side like he was listening, but he had taken a stance that told Harlow he was ready to spring at her without a moment’s notice. She had finally slipped her hand into her pocket, snatched the key, and had it in the lock as the man’s eyes fixed on her, his pupils dilating in anticipation of the kill.
She had the door unlocked fully and was able to open it in such a way that the moment the man sprung for her, she was hidden between the door and the wall, sending the man flying out into the snow. Harlow swiftly slammed the door shut once he was out and scrambled to lock it tight again as she heard the man slamming his body against the door, wailing and snarling in anger and agony.
Harlow was worried that since the man actually had the capability to enter the church, that if he were to get the door down, there wouldn’t be much stopping him from ravaging all those that slept inside. She’d have to figure out some way to reinforce it.
“When in doubt, refer to the manual.” She spoke to herself as she pulled a small leather bound book from her pocket opposite the key. She flipped through the pages before she found the one she was looking for.
“Ingredients are…holy water. That’s it? Well, it’s better than nothing.” Harlow noted aloud as her hand dove back into her pocket and pulled out a vial of holy water.
She dipped her fingers in the liquid, her eyes never leaving the manual in her hand as she expertly painted the sigil from the page onto the door, all the while the man banging against the wood on the other side.
“And then we say a bit in Latin that I really need to commit to memory and place hand in circle,” Harlow followed the steps out loud before placing her hand in the middle of the sigil. It glowed blue under her palm before dimming out and the banging from the man on the other side of the door finally stopped.
Harlow sighed, “Well, that wasn’t how I wanted to spend the rest of my evening. Crisis averted, however.”
She dusted her hands off and put the holy water and small book back in her pocket. She’d have to tell Rogue about this, but it could wait until morning. Harlow had everything handled.
(*)
The morning brought routine and Harlow was up before everyone else, prepping things for breakfast. They were getting low on some foods having lost a few chickens to a stray fox a few weeks prior, and eggs were a staple. There was still plenty of flour to make gut filling breads and many jars of beans and pickled goods, but people would quickly tire of that; they were going to have to get creative with their future meals.
“We need more chickens.” Rogue whispered to Harlow as the two prepped plates for breakfast.
“I’m well aware. We need to wrangle up some people willing to go on a run for supplies anyway. But with this weather, it’s doubtful we will find any live chickens just wandering around out there. We are just going to have to wait for the new batch to hatch in spring and work with what we’ve got for now.” Harlow replied tersely.
Rogue pursed her lips in thought, “I’ll talk to people after breakfast and get a party together. But we’re not going to make it during the Golden Hour, most likely. We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Then we take the smartest and stealthiest of us to do the run. No mistakes, keep hidden, one with the shadows sort of run. It’s too dangerous otherwise, but we definitely need a bigger supply store.” Harlow returned, stacking plates on a shelved trolley to wheel them out into the sanctuary for their first meal of the day.
“We’ll get it handled. One thing at a time, right?” Rogue bumped Harlow with her trolley as she wheeled past her.
One thing at a time. That’s what she always told Rogue. Even though there were so many things to get done, it happened more smoothly if they started with one thing at a time.
But things were about to pile up.
(*)
“Alright, Niridia is going to stay behind and tend the fort. Harlow and me are together, Shane and Robin pair off, and then Grunt and Silver as the last group. We break off into pairs and check the houses in and around Langford St. which is just two over. We haven’t picked those yet, but it’s a rich—was a rich area so there may be something good. Look for cellars and any storage areas where things could be hidden. Don’t travel further than Dawson and stay low. If you find a large haul, regroup back here in two hours and we will figure out transport later.” Rogue instructed the crew that she had gathered, Harlow included.
“Understood?” Harlow asked, making sure that all were on the same page.
They were met with head nodding and murmured agreement before the three groups left the safety of the church and split up to scavenge in their own way.
“I don’t know how much we’re going to find. We’re going to have to start looking for other groups to trade and barter with.” Rogue made conversation quietly as the two ducked between buildings and hid in the shadows.
“Either that or we head out of the city and look elsewhere. It’s a hefty endeavor, but may be necessary. See if we can find cattle for milk and possibly meat, the garden will be heartier next year; we just need a few things to get us started again.” Harlow wasn’t sure how she felt about finding others to help supplement them. The few that they had run into were less than friendly.
“Or we need to find others and band together, at least during the winter time. I know you’re wary, but at least consider it.” Rogue returned as they stepped onto the porch of an abandoned house and Harlow checked the lock.
She found the door unlocked and opened it, pausing to reply, “I’ll consider it.”
The two spent an hour checking several houses before they made it to a few small shops on Langford. They were able to gather some necessities and stacked up blankets and other comforts to come back and get the next day during the Golden Hour. The Golden Hour was a sliver of time at dawn and dusk where the rays from the sun could still get through the darkness and kept all those that feared the sun inside and away from any humans. But they were well past that time at this point.
The two brought back what they could and found Grunt and Silver already at the door with their own haul, but Robin and Shane were nowhere to be found. When asked if they had been seen, the answer was no.
“We’re going to have to go find them. You two stay behind and get in position in case something undead finds us. Rogue and I will find the other two and bring them back.” Harlow took charge, giving strict instructions to the others.
They obeyed and she and Rogue took off into the darkness to find the other two.
The pair tried to remember the route the other two had taken and soon found fresh footsteps in the otherwise virgin snow. These led them several streets down, further than Rogue had given them permission to go. The footprints ran around in circles after a bit and eventually dead ended in the back of a house, right in the middle of a snow laden garden. Two figures lay in the snow there, the white powder the only contrast to give them away.
“Fuck. Are they—?” Rogue started with a whisper.
“Dead?” Harlow finished, “Looks that way.”
But then one of the figures coughed and tried to sit up, his arm wobbling before he fell back to the ground again.
Harlow rushed forward with Rogue on her heels to help them, finding that it was Shane who was badly injured, but still alive. One check of Robin’s neck with the torch told them that the undead had indeed been the culprit; of course, who else would it be?
“Try not to move, Shane. Can you tell me what happened?” Harlow asked the man, helping him lay back comfortably in the snow.
He sputtered, covered in blood, and choked out, “They killed Robin. Robin’s dead, man.”
Rogue patted his blood stained chest as she asked, “We know, mate. Was it one of them?”
Shane coughed, arching his back painfully as he groaned out, “More than one.”
But nothing more came from Shane’s mouth after that; no words anyway. Just grunts and growls as he stretched and groaned, panting like a wounded animal. Harlow took Rogue by the arm and pulled her back, unsure of what was going to happen, but she had a bad feeling that she knew.
“He’s turning. We didn’t check to see if he’d been bitten too; we just assumed.” Harlow gasped, disappointed in herself.
Rogue was quaking as her hand gripped Harlow’s tightly and she replied, “We need to go. There’s nothing we can do for him.”
“We can’t leave him, Rogue. We have to try and talk some sense into him somehow. He may be feral now, but maybe we can find a way to feed him and when he’s fully transformed, we can work around it.” Harlow lied to herself.
“You know he won’t be the same, Harlow. You know that he’ll try and kill us, kill everyone in the church. We need to run.” Rogue pleaded with her friend as Shane stalked closer. It appeared like he was trying to remember how his limbs worked.
“And if we run and let him loose, he will find and kill others. He’ll remember where he lived and he could come after us. We either try and save him—or we kill him now.” Harlow knew what really needed to be done.
“Then we should put him to rest. This new lot…there’s no appeasing them, at least not that we’ve seen. It’s like something has chan—” Rogue was cut short as Harlow pushed her out of the way.
Shane had finally picked up enough speed to come flailing at them, jaw wide and fangs bared. He was still growling like some wild animal when he swung back around and went straight for Harlow. His hand found her shoulder and he attempted to jerk her head to the side with the other, but she broke his hold with a knee to the gut.
Instead of trying again, he turned and went for Rogue who was still on the ground, panting heavily. Her heart rate had to be higher than Harlow’s, attracting Shane as he sprung up into the air and landed right on top of her. Rogue screamed, forgetting how to fight in that moment as she tried to block her jugular.
“Hey!” Harlow whistled at Shane, trying to get his attention.
He stopped clawing at Rogue and turned to see Harlow holding her arm up, the sleeve rolled back to show a thick red line of blood that ran down the exposed skin. The smell of fresh blood immediately caught Shane’s attention and he left Rogue behind, leaping for Harlow to take her down.
But Shane hadn’t expected her to use this bloody arm as a distraction, sending a rain of holy water spraying all over his face with her other hand. He screeched in pain, reeling back as he tripped over Rogue.
“Out of the way, Rogue!” Harlow hollered, charging at Shane before he had a chance to see her coming.
She rolled left and Harlow kicked Shane back, but he somehow managed to snatch her foot and sent her spinning through the air before she landed, cracking her head on a rotting post protruding from the garden bed.
She saw stars, her vision blurred but her hearing keen as Shane snarled in her direction. Rogue was still on the ground, appearing as if she had just tussled with the man again, but now that he saw that Harlow wasn’t quite out of the fight, he came back for her.
Harlow quickly scrambled to her feet, the world spinning as she leaned into the post for stability. Shane was now cackling maniacally as he sped right into her, but the laughing was cut short.
“Sorry, Shane.” Harlow whispered as the man impaled himself on the stake she had pulled from her harness.
The crazed smile on Shane’s face fell grim when he realized that he had met his second death and this would be the last. His sallow skin filled up with color and the fangs set in his mouth retreated under reddening lips. This second death had taken him back to the way he looked before they had gotten hold of him.
Shane whispered a silent thank you as the last moments of his life brought him back from the dead for a brief moment of lucidity before he closed his eyes forever.
“Harlow. Harlow!” Rogue’s call was frantic as she stumbled over to her friend.
Harlow had lowered Shane to the snow, trying to hide how emotional the whole ordeal had made her. She tried to be the stoic one, the silently suffering, the voice of reason and logic even though she was drowning in years of trauma and pain. But this put a crack in the dam.
“I’m alright, love. Shane is at peace now.” Harlow responded, laying him down next to Robin.
“Fuck…fuck. What do we do? We can’t carry them back!” Rogue was panicked, trying not to look at the very bloody, very dead men expired in the snow.
“No, we can’t. We leave them and send a party out to retrieve them the next Golden Hour. We need to get back safely to do that, so we should probably go. We may have been seen, so follow the Labyrinth.” Harlow gave their code word for the sewers to avoid any further detection.
Rogue nodded silently, glancing back at the men before the two slipped back into the shadows to head to the church.
How smart she was to run the Labyrinth, or maybe it was paranoia. Either way, it was the best strategy she could have executed considering how right she really was about being watched.
