Revenence: Dead Silence, A Zombie Novel by Betts M.E

Author:Betts, M.E. [Betts, M.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-12-13T08:00:00+00:00

Daphne sat on a fallen tree trunk at her temporary camp. She would leave the next morning. She never stayed in one place for more than a day. Her camp consisted of only herself, her rather large pack, her sleeping bag, and the bonfire she had started. She was at home in the woods, truly in her element...a veritable forest nymph. Even as a child, in her foster home, she had spent a great deal of time in the woods behind the house.Her childhood had been unusually harsh, at least after her sixth year. She was the daughter of Irish immigrants, and spent the first years of her life in a Chicago ghetto. They were the only years of her life she remembered fondly, although the memories were few and indistinct. She sometimes vaguely speculated on what her life would have been like, what she would be like, if she had gotten to grow up with her family...but the speculations never really took a definitive form in her mind, as self-reflection was not one of her strong suits.

A couple weeks after her sixth birthday, both of her parents and her older brother were killed in an wave of gang warfare in the neighborhood. They had bought a new TV, which had just been delivered, and they were in the process of lugging it into the apartment building when the gunfire erupted around them. Daphne had been in the apartment, watching cartoons, when she heard the gunshots. She hid in the closet until the noise died down. She waited, wondering when her family would come back in to comfort her, to reassure her that everything was okay again, but they never came. She heard the wail of sirens in the distance, approaching. She was still in the closet, tears rolling down her frightened face, when their neighbor, an elderly Irish woman named Mrs. Morris, came in and called out to her.

"Daphne, dear, are you in here?" she called. "Oh Lord, please let the child be okay."

"I'm here, Mrs. Morris," Daphne said, opening the closet door and stepping out. She sniffed and wiped the tears from her face. "Did they hurt my family?"

The elderly woman's expression was one of momentary relief that the young girl was safe, then instantly changed to one of profound sympathy and concern. She couldn't formulate words...she could only nod in confirmation, tears clouding her pale green eyes.

Daphne had no other living family willing to take her. She had an uncle in Ireland, but he was hardly the type to come all the way to America to retrieve a niece he didn't really want. The next seven years of Daphne's life were spent in central Kentucky with a foster family, the Andersons. They were devout Southern Baptists, with a biological child of their own, Bobby, a boy three years Daphne's senior. The Andersons attempted to indoctrinate their religious views in Daphne through various forms of physical and psychological abuse and, in some cases, downright torture. When she was

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