Sorrow's Gift

Chapter Forty-Four: The Boy

He woke just before dawn and went through his pack again, making sure he had everything he might need on his journey to Manhattan. His hands trembled as he placed the items back into the bag, one at a time.

The weather had delayed him a few days, the rain not letting up for even an hour. But the sun had come out yesterday afternoon and the boy was determined to get his start today, no matter how scared he was.

He'd felt safe in his tiny apartment. Everything was familiar here. He had mostly good memories of this place and worried that once he left, he might never be able to return. What if the Dark One found him before he could get to the others?

So far, he'd only had to fight off one person who had turned. His mother. It had been the worst moment of his life, and he wasn't sure he'd survive having to kill another one. Much less a group of them.

The only weapon he had was a small knife from his own kitchen his mother had used to cut steaks when they'd been lucky enough to have them, which was mostly on special occasions like his birthday or a promotion at work.

His two biggest advantages were his speed and his size. He told himself that if he saw one of those things, he'd run the other way and find a place to hide. It sounded simple in his head, but he had seen what happened when someone got cornered. The zombies might be slow, but they were determined. And when they were in a pack, one wrong move could be deadly.

He pulled on the black hoodie that had been his mother's. It nearly swallowed him, coming all the way down to his knees, but the important thing was that when he pulled the hood over his head, it completely hid his face.

If he kept his face hidden and didn't use his powers unless it was a life or death situation, maybe the Dark One wouldn't know it was him. If she was looking through the eyes of her undead minions, she would see him as just another human child.

She wouldn't be expecting a child.

He wasn't sure how he knew, but he sensed the others were older than he was. Over the past century, something had gotten out of sync with their group, and the boy had continued to be reincarnated later and later compared to the others. He must have messed something up when he'd cast the original spell.

But the Dark One wouldn't know that. She'd be expecting him to be older, just like the others.

With the hood secured over his head, he pulled back the curtains on his window and waited for the sun to rise. He watched as the infected slowly made their way to the shadows and the cooler areas inside buildings, taking shelter from the sun's heat. When the street was mostly empty, he climbed down his makeshift ladder of sheets and clothing and set his feet firmly on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building.

The sewer entrance was only a block away, and all he had to do was get to it without raising any suspicions.

His feet itched to run, but he forced himself to walk at a normal pace, glancing around to make sure none of the zombies had noticed him. The walk to that first sewer grate seemed to take an hour, even though he knew only minutes had passed. This was the most dangerous part of his plan until he got to Manhattan, and he could hardly catch his breath, his heart was pounding so hard against his ribs.

A groan behind him made him pick up the pace. He didn't dare look. He knew what was back there. He could hear its feet shuffling against the pavement.

The boy weaved in and out of the mess of cars parked permanently on the street and kept his eyes on the ground, searching for the entrance to the sewers. When he passed the crosswalk, he knew he was close.

From the sound of it, he had two zombies following him now, and he was thankful for the cars that slowed them down. He picked up his pace and scanned the road. It had to be here somewhere.