Jane Slayre (12 page)

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as Miss Temple had instructed, and bent a little at the knees to improve my flexibility. I held the scimitar aloft, then waited for Celia to get closer, close enough that I might lop her head off.

I waited. She inched forward. Slowly. I waited still.

Oh, never mind. I charged, scimitar extended. "Yah!"

I closed my eyes at the last, fatal second. Not a wise move perhaps. I might have missed. But I did not miss. I felt the sharp edge striking home, severing the flesh at Celia's neck and driving straight through her spinal cord. Either zombies were extremely thin-skinned and fragile, or I was much stronger than I had ever imagined. I looked down at Celia's headless body, pea-green goo oozing from the neck, most definitely dead. But where had her head gone? I looked around, right to left. I supposed it flew into the ovens. I did not have time to make sure. There were more pies, potentially more zombies craving flesh, and more live students out there all too unwilling to provide it.

I left the kitchen and headed back through the refectory towards the classrooms. The special students preferred to work through the day of their own accord. Most of them were still there, gathered around tables, reading psalms aloud in droning, slightly raised whispers. I counted quickly. Eighteen. Celia made nineteen. One missing--

A scream sounded from the library. I hastened there. "Stay back! Stay!" came the cry.

The voice drew me. I entered, turned a corner, and found Rebecca Douglas huddled in the corner between stacks, waving a book at Julia Severn, who groaned and slowly, slowly made her way towards Rebecca.

"I don't know what happened!" Rebecca, near breathless, exclaimed. "One minute she was fine, and then I gave her a taste of my pie and she went wild. She--she bit me!" Rebecca showed me her arm, which now exhibited a good-size welt.

"Stay right there," I ordered Rebecca.

Julia turned towards the sound of my voice, a thin stream of

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yellow spittle trailing from her lips down her chin. She grunted. Fortunately, it took her so long to turn her body after her head and start after me that I was able to raise my weapon and sever her spinal cord from the back, causing her head to loll in Rebecca's direction. Rebecca shrieked. I gave another solid whack, and Julia was no more.

"Jane," Rebecca marvelled, looking from me to Julia's goo-dripping head and back again. "How could you?"

"Rebecca," I said calmly, "she was going to kill you. And eat you. It was the least I could do. Now go to the sickroom. Have the nurse wrap your wound and send Miss Temple to me at once. Not a word to the other students. I'll take care of all this."

Rebecca, rendered dumb no doubt by the sight of a plentiful pea-green muck gurgling from the cavity of Julia's neck, simply nodded and made her way out of the room. By the time she reached the corridor, the sound of her hurried footfalls indicated she had broken into a run.

Miss Temple would have to leave the sick students in care of the nurse to see to the pressing matter of disposing of three grue-somely dead bodies, wouldn't she? I had just begun to fear she wasn't coming when she suddenly appeared. I met her as she hurried down the hall.

"Miss Temple. We have an unfortunate situation."

"Unfortunate?" She raised a brow. "Of course. I've been meaning to tell you."

"To tell me? How could you know?"

"About Helen?"

"About the zombies. The housekeeper has served mutton pies. Only two seem to have eaten, but--the housekeeper's dead. Rebecca Douglas was terrorized. And Julia Severn and Celia Evans are no more."

"No more? Jane!" She hugged me to her. "How very brave you are! But how did you know? I trust you made use of my instruction?"

I nodded. "With the scimitar from the parlour. It was lighter

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than the saber I've been practicing with, and quite sharp. Helen told me of voodoo bokors and zombies, and of last year's incident with Miss Brockway."

"Bless her soul. And bless you, dear, still so young! It must have required a good deal of strength." She held me at arm's length and looked me over. "You'll need a new pinafore. Perhaps stockings. But you're unharmed?"

I looked down. Blood and green goo was splattered across my frock and legs. "A bruise or two, perhaps. But unharmed. Now what of Helen Burns?"

Helen had been ill for weeks. So ill that she had been removed from my sight to I knew not what room upstairs. She was not in the hospital portion of the house with the fever patients, for her complaint was consumption, not typhus; and by
consumption
I, in my ignorance, understood something mild, which time and care would be sure to alleviate.

I was confirmed in this idea by her once or twice coming downstairs on warm, sunny afternoons and being taken by Miss Temple into the garden; but, on these occasions, I was not allowed to go and speak to her. I only saw her from the schoolroom window, and then not distinctly, for she was much wrapped up and sat at a distance under the veranda.

"Mr. Bates has been here. He says she'll not be here long."

A wave of panic made me weak in the knees. Helen Burns was numbering her last days in this world, and she was going to be taken to the region of spirits, if such regions there were. I experienced a shock of horror, then a strong throb of grief, then a desire--a renewed necessity to see her; and I asked in what room she lay.

"She is in my room," Miss Temple said. "You may go and see her at once. I will take care of the mess in the--"

"Kitchen," I offered. "The housekeeper and Celia Evans are in the kitchen. Julia Severn is in the library. The others seem to be

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absorbed by their psalms in the refectory. I don't believe they've eaten."

"Thank God for that. Now go. Go to Helen. I fear there isn't much time."

In Miss Temple's chamber, a small bed covered in white curtains was set up beside Miss Temple's bed. I crossed the room, lifted the curtain, and could make out a form under the bedclothes. I heard a light snoring from behind me, turned, and recognised one of the recently hired nurses, a candle at her side burning dimly on the table. She must have fallen asleep in her chair. I hesitated only a moment to draw back the covers from Helen's face to determine if she was sleeping as soundly as her nurse.

"Helen!" I whispered softly. "Are you awake?"

She stirred and I saw her more clearly now, fever-bright eyes shining from her pale face. Despite her weariness, she seemed quite composed and so little changed that my fear was instantly dissipated. How could she be dying? The doctor must have made a mistake.

"Can it be you, Jane?" she asked in a gentle voice.

"It is Jane. How I've missed you."

I sat on the edge of her bed and kissed her forehead. Her skin was cold and felt like parchment, thin and delicate.

"Why are you here, Jane?"

"No one could keep me away. I needed to see you, my friend. I heard you were very ill, and I could not sleep until I had spoken to you."

"You are probably just in time. When I'm gone, will you bring me flowers, Jane?" She broke off in a fit of coughing.

"Helen!" Her talk distressed me. Gone? Helen? Never! But I started to cry, as if part of me knew the truth that my heart struggled to deny.

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She quieted and sighed. I was surprised that Helen's coughing did not rouse the nurse. "Jane, your little feet are bare." I had removed my shoes, stockings, and pinafore before entering for fear of alarming Helen. "Lie down and cover yourself with my quilt."

She patted the bed beside her. I scooted under the blankets. She put her arm over me and I nestled close to her.

"Helen, you mustn't leave me now. We need to work together to stop Mr. Bokorhurst. He's evil, Helen. Those poor girls."

"He must be stopped. You know the way. It's up to you."

"I know the way to free the poor souls from their curse, yes." If I could. I'd gained in strength and stamina, but to free them all and to stop Mr. Bokorhurst?

"Jane, my brave Jane. You've always known. I sensed your strength and your spirit from the start. I'm so glad we've been friends."

"We are friends."

"I am very happy, Jane. When you hear that I am dead, you must not grieve. We all must die, eventually, and I am not in pain. My illness has been gentle and gradual. My mind is at rest. I leave no regrets, and no one to regret me."

"I will regret losing you, Helen. I will!"

"You'll remember me, and the memories will give you joy, I hope. I go to a wonderful new home. I have faith. I am going to God."

"You are sure then, Helen, that there is such a place as heaven, and that our souls can get to it when we die?"

"As long as we meet no impediments."

"Like zombie curses?"

She nodded. "I am sure there is a future state. I believe God is good. I can resign my immortal part to Him without any misgiving. God is my father. God is my friend. He loves us all, and I love Him."

"We will meet again, Helen. I am sure of it."

"That's my Jane, my dear Jane."

I clasped my arms closer around Helen. She seemed dearer to me than ever.

"How comfortable I am!" she said in a sweet, low voice. "That

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last fit of coughing has tired me a little. I feel as if I could sleep, but don't leave me, Jane."

"I'll stay with you, dear Helen. No one shall take me away."

"Are you warm, darling?"

"Yes," I said. "Quite warm."

"Good night, Jane."

"Good night, Helen."

She kissed my cheek, and I hers, and we both soon slumbered.

When I awoke, it was day. An unusual movement roused me. I looked up. I was in the nurse's arms. She was carrying me back to the dormitory. I knew the truth then: Helen had died in my arms in the night, else Miss Temple would never have allowed us to be disturbed and separated. God bless Miss Temple, and may he love and keep Helen Burns.

CHAPTER 10

WHILE OTHER STUDENTS ROSE and prepared for the day ahead, I was allowed to stay in bed. Miss Miller made the excuses. I was feeling unwell, she said, a stomach complaint not at all resembling typhus. Best they leave me alone to recuperate without affecting, or being affected by, others. I slept for part of the day. For the other, I plotted.

I needed to form a plan with Miss Temple. Clearly she knew all about the zombies and Mr. Bokorhurst's horrific enterprise. Working together, we might meet with success in freeing the affected from the curse before any more of them developed a taste for flesh. I despaired of ever stopping Mr. Bokorhurst entirely.

The next morning, once the others left the room, I rose, washed,

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dressed, and prepared to go to breakfast. I was hungry, I realised, and I needed to keep up my strength. I ate quickly, picked up my ration of bread and cheese, and set off for the woods to practise my training. Once I'd worked up a healthy glow with physical exertion, I decided to retire to my favourite spot to eat my dinner. Mary Ann Wilson was already there, and she gave me a nod of greeting as she consumed her own bread and cheese.

No more mutton pie for Lowood. Miss Temple had burned them all far from the school, so as not to interest any of the special students with the aroma. I was glad to see that Mary Ann seemed too enamoured of her dinner to gossip today. My mood was reflective, not social. To me, it seemed the sun was shining in tribute to Helen Burns, so bright a soul, and that the birds sang her praises and even the bees hummed hymns in her honour. Later, I would gather flowers and try to find her grave, if she'd been buried yet. I squinted off to the mounds, all freshly patted down. What if Mr. Bokorhurst tried to harvest her? Would I be ready to fight him off? Anything to protect Helen.

"There's talk of resuming classes," Mary Ann said, breaking the golden spell of silence. "Next week, perhaps. Miss Scatcherd was in the library this morning drafting letters to the absent pupils to return to school."

"Do you think they will return?"

Mary Ann shrugged. "Most will want to finish what they started. Mr. Bokorhurst can promise employment to the older girls."

"Employment?"

"Catherine Johnstone and Caroline henley will be leaving us. Caroline's off to Brighton to be a governess, and Catherine a lady's maid in London. Mr. Bokorhurst announced it last night. You hadn't heard? Ah, but you were in bed. Oh, wouldn't I like to go to London!"

I stifled a groan. Mary Ann wouldn't like to go to London the way Catherine Johnstone was to do it, with a reanimated brain in a shell of a body. She and Caroline had become part of the "special"

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set since taking ill with typhus. I imagined Catherine hulking around like Abbot, parroting her mistress's speeches and losing her limbs in the wardrobe. Of course, the special students never seemed to have a problem with parts becoming unattached since Mr. Bokorhurst had no doubt perfected his technique, as he'd told Mrs. Reed. It troubled me to think of a zombie working closely with children. What if they were fed meat? I had to speak to Miss Temple right away. There was no time to waste.

"Helen Burns did not envy Catherine a bit. She thought that she would prefer to be sent to Scotland if she were to be a maid. Scotland? La, can you imagine? It's so cold and so far away."

I gasped at the name. "Helen Burns?"

Mary Ann nodded. "Oh, yes. She came back from the sickroom today. We all thought she would never recover. She's still weak, of course, poor thing. But she's back with us."

Back with us? There was only one way that could be possible. The revelation rocked me to my very core. I choked a little on my cheese and spent some minutes coughing.

"Oh dear." Mary Ann jumped down from our perch. "Your cough sounds terrible. Perhaps you should check in with Miss Temple. Miss Scatcherd said that the sickness had likely passed, but perhaps not."

I almost corrected Mary Ann and explained about the bit of cheese, but stopped myself in time. "Miss Temple? Yes. I will seek her out at once."

I could not get back inside fast enough. I left all my things and ran straight for the door. Where could Helen be? I had to see her, yet I dreaded seeing her, all at the same time. Mr. Bokorhurst had been at school, and now Helen had returned. I prayed that Miss Temple would have answers, and while I prayed, I pleaded the case for Helen Burns, God's most devoted little subject.

"Please, God, protect Helen. Don't let Mr. Bokorhurst have robbed her of her chance to fly to heaven."

Before I reached the classroom, I knew Mary Ann Wilson spoke