Chapter 6: Darcy Encounters (Part 2)

Elizabeth threw on her blue overcoat, strapped on her katana, and mounted her white steed. Pulling Jane on behind her, they hastened towards Hingham Bridge.

"When were you at St. Lazarus?" yelled Jane, fighting the wind.

"Wickham took me there," yelled Liz in response. "Do you recall the day Collins proposed to me? I ran into Wickham soon after and we journeyed down together. He wanted to show me first hand how the zombies could sustain part of their former souls."

"You traveled with Wickham to the In-Between!?" gasped Jane in shock.

"I know! I know! You don't have to reprimand me, Jane. I am fully aware how careless it was."

"Yes it was, Lizzy. Careless, dangerous, improper…"

"Well I am safe, Jane," said Liz. "Hopefully the same can be said for Lydia," she added quietly to herself.

The infantry numbers at Hingham Bridge had grown since Liz last passed through. At least two hundred more men were working hastily readying cannons, building barricades, or carefully attaching explosives to the bridge.

"This bridge is closed!" yelled one of the red suited men as Liz and Jane approached. The soldier and his comrade blocked their way. Reaching for the reigns, the infantry halted their horse. "It's too dangerous to cross. All of London's fallen to the zombies."

"We have urgent business on the other side," said Jane. Liz could detect the panic in her voice.

"The bridge is rigged with all the explosives left in England," said the first soldier. "It's to be detonated tomorrow at dawn when the last squadron withdraw from the In-Between."

"Our boys can't hold them much longer," said the other. "If the undead of London take the bridge the rest of England will surely be lost."

"Nevertheless, we must cross over," said Elizabeth, maneuvering the reigns out of their grasp. "Yah!"

She dug her heels into her horse's sides and they sped across Hingham Bridge and into the In-Between. A thick fog coated the ground and the sky was overcast, looking as if it were about to rain. Liz focused on their goal: to save Lydia. Possibly they could talk some soldiers to aid them in their quest. They had until dawn to reach the church and get back over the bridge to safety before it was detonated.

"Zombie protocols in effect!" a soldier started shouting in the distance. "One, seek out and destroy any remaining undead. Two, any fallen with intact skulls must have their brains perforated or crushed to ensure they do not rise again as the undead!"

They approached the first checkpoint within the In-Between. Soldiers were stabbing undead and slain soldiers before stacking the lifeless bodies into piles. Fires burned at the base of the brick gateway and Liz could smell burnt flesh in the air. Blood covered the dead ground. They rode underneath the archway through the smoke. Elizabeth choked as she passed through. She looked back after they had cleared the worst of it. The large metal spiked wheels within the defensive wall were contorted. It appeared as if a horde had charged the barricades. Dead bodies still lay motionless over spikes and she saw one soldier cross himself before raising his dagger and piercing it through the brain of his slain comrade. Surely a large battle had just taken place and the unfortunate survivors were left to clean up the pieces. Little did they know the battle against the undead was only beginning.

"It's Mr. Bingley!" Jane suddenly exclaimed after they had rode several more paces into the abandoned wilderness. "Stop the horse!"

Reaching around Elizabeth, Jane yanked the reigns back, bringing the white horse to an abrupt halt. She then swung herself down and began running towards Bingley, who appeared to be disposing of several undead bodies in a nearby valley.

Despite the circumstances, Liz smiled, happy to see them reunited once more. She rode to a nearby tree and tied off her horse. Grabbing an abandoned axe, she began following protocols, striking several moaning undead through the brains. Making her way towards more abandoned countryside, she did what she could to help with the cleanup while attempting to locate a higher-ranking official to aid her in their journey.

Bringing the axe high in the air, she struck a male undead through the brains. Blood splattered onto her boots and the bottom of her overcoat. Kneeling, she wiped the blade off on the dusty ground. When she glanced up, she saw him.

Darcy stood only a little ways off. He held his katana high in the air and swiftly brought it down, putting another undead out of its misery. He wore his traditional all black ensemble, his overcoat tails flapping in the wind, and his weapons belt hanging low on his hips glistening in the scarce light.

She began walking slowly towards him, expecting Darcy to turn around and spot her. As she approached, she saw him looking downward. It appeared as if he was caught on something. Upon closer inspection, she noticed zombie hands were grasping his shoes, coat and ankles, holding him in place. He began slashing at the hands surrounding him and then he did sense another presence. An undead male rose from the ground, blocking her view, and began proceeding towards Darcy. Elizabeth took off in a brisk run, the axe firm in her grasp. She was too far away and realized she would not make it in time, so she stopped, lifted the axe and threw it at the burly zombie. The axe wedged itself into the back of its skull, and the undead fell to the ground with a thud. She glanced up slowly and saw Darcy staring in awe at her. His mouth was agape and his eyes were wide with shock.

Panting, she nervously said the first thing that came to her mind, "Potter's field." Brandishing her sword, she readied herself to aid him in his task.

"Yes. Quite," responded Darcy. They both stared at each other for some time before he quickly added in confusion, "Pardon?"

"This," said Elizabeth a smile moving to her lips, motioning towards the ground, "what we're standing on. It's an unmarked zombie graveyard."

"Yes. Of course," said Darcy slowly comprehending her meaning.

Sensing that was to be the end of their conversation, Elizabeth broke eye contact and lifted her blade, slicing through the brains of the undead at their feet. They worked in silence for some time and then the pair wordlessly walked side-by-side back to where Elizabeth tied her horse. She untied the reigns and they continued the short distance back to the checkpoint.

They had walked half the distance back when Darcy halted in his tracks and turned towards her. "Miss Bennet," he said in admonishment, "what possible cause could the two of you have for leaving Hertfordshire and entering into the In-Between?"

Liz wondered how he knew Jane had accompanied her, but then saw her walking with Bingley only a short distance away. She continued walking.

"If adventure will not befall a young lady in her own village," she responded cheekily, "she must seek them abroad."

Darcy remained silent, willing the truth from her. Liz realized her knew her disposition better than she thought possible. He understood she would not put her elder sister in danger unless absolutely necessary, for she was headstrong and determined, but not foolish. Once more, he was the highest-ranking official at the checkpoint, and she needed to confide in him if she were to receive any aid in her sister's recovery.

Liz suddenly felt a soft touch on her hand. Glancing up at Darcy, she relinquished control of the reigns over to him. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself and sighed, fighting back the tears she had been holding in since hearing the news.

"We had no choice," she began. "Wickham has run off with Lydia. He's taken her to where zombie aristocrats congregate: St. Lazarus."

They had made it back to the checkpoint and Darcy tied the reigns up once more. Elizabeth walked to a nearby fire to keep warm.

"St. Lazarus?" Darcy confirmed once he stood beside her.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"I know it well," he continued. "I saw it razed to the ground five days ago. Your sister couldn't possibly have survived."

Elizabeth's eyes widened with shock and she searched his face for falsehoods, but saw only genuineness. She began shaking her head, not willing to believe it. The tears started falling from her eyes and she turned her back to Darcy, not wanting him to see her in such a vulnerable state.

"I'm profoundly sorry for your loss," he added sincerely.

"Colonel Darcy!" a soldier suddenly shouted, coming towards them.

Lydia was dead. Whatever was she going to tell her parents? How could she break the news to Jane? She failed her mission. It was because of her Lydia was dead. She should have told her parents and sisters about his true character as soon as she read the letter. If they had some sort of warning, Lydia would never have been so susceptible. Surely their mother would take it the worst, for Lydia was her favorite. Her nerves would take hold over her body and then she may never recover from the loss. And Kitty would be at a loss without her best friend. And Jane would blame herself. And Papa would go after Wickham.

"I fear I must depart for Hingham Bridge immediately," Darcy suddenly said addressing her.

"Of course," she replied, sniffling, but Liz couldn't bring herself to look at him. Darcy turned and walked away shortly thereafter, the soldier following closely at his heels.

After a few moments, Liz turned and watched his retreating figure. Once he was out of sight, she turned back towards the fire. Watching the flames dance in the wind, she thought of her departed sister. Oh how she wished she could turn back time to but minutes ago when there was some semblance of hope. She closed her eyes, trying to focus. She silently prayed that her sister's soul had found peace and that her mother would not, in turn, die of heartbreak. Finally she prayed that Wickham was within St. Lazarus when it was destroyed so no one else could be subjected to his schemes. Her grip tightened on the hilt of her katana. She then thought of Darcy. He had so quickly departed from her after revealing the circumstances surrounding Lydia's death. Surly if he felt the way he declared in his letter, he would have said something more. Anything to give her some semblance of hope. I may have lost my heart, she thought, but not my self-control. Straightening up, she wiped the tears from her eyes and went in search of Jane.

"I fear I should not have confided in Darcy," she admitted to Jane some time later, grasping their horse's reigns. The girls were making to depart back towards the safety of Hingham Bridge. Jane stood stroking the steed's neck.

"Fear the hordes of ravenous unmentionables that are swarming our way," Jane responded. "Liz, London has already fallen and the Grand Barrier burns as we speak..."

Elizabeth glanced around, ready to abandon the depressing nature of the In-Between, yet frightened to deliver the news to their parents. Her eyes scanned over the men surrounding them and they landed on Bingley, who was only a short distance from them. His face was worry some, and he kept glancing down at his pocket watch and then towards the vastness of the In-Between. Elizabeth followed his gaze and realized it was up the same path her and Wickham had traveled many months ago. Abandoning Jane, she walked over to Bingley and he offered a forced smile. His writhing palms and uncharacteristic muteness had not gone unnoticed.

"Hingham Bridge is behind us," said Liz bluntly. His face fell. "London's over there. Which direction are you looking in, Mr. Bingley?"

Bingley glanced once more in the direction of his best friend.

"St. Lazarus?" Elizabeth said in astonishment. Bingley looked guiltily at her. "Darcy lied…"

"To spare you!" said Bingley, touching her arm gently. "He'd risk anything for you, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth turned on her heels and ran towards her horse. Quickly mounting, she urged it forward in the direction of the church.

"Lizzy?" yelled Jane after her. "Lizzy!"

"Yah!" Liz hollered, encouraging the horse further. Darcy had a huge lead on her. She needed to be there fighting by his side against Wickham, and she had to bring him back to safety before he was isolated with the undead forever.

As Elizabeth rode on into the night, various memories flooding her mind. Some were between herself and Lydia. She smiled at the thought of her sister's lively disposition, and Liz prayed that would never change. Especially after these recent events. She prayed Darcy reached her in time. Visions of herself and Darcy, including their battle in Parson Collins' parsonage, then came to her thoughts. Oh how it would have been so easy if she had known his heart then. She also thought of her father. During her early years of training, he often had to reprimand Liz's inquisitive nature. More times than she cared to admit her father would answer, "time will explain," to questions he could not yet answer to a girl of seven years. Never had she felt that was more relevant as it was now. Time will explain. She could see it now so clearly, and her heart did whisper that he had done it for her. Darcy lying about St. Lazarus and Lydia being alive. It was all to keep her safe. To keep her sisters safe. He knew she would return to Hingham Bridge, to safety, if she believed her sister was dead. Tears once again fell from her eyes. He would risk himself in an impossible mission to save her sister, all for her.

Liz cleared her eyes and dug her heels into the horse's sides, only to slow it down moments later. London was burning before her. The skyline glowed amber and dark smoke faded upward into the black sky. In the glow, she could see undead falling over The Wall, breaking free of London.

"My God," she breathed.

A sound in the thicket behind her grabbed her attention. Lydia burst forth on a black steed, racing in the direction of Hingham Bridge.

"Lydia!" Liz screamed, trying to gain her attention. "Lydia! …Lydia!"

Lydia continued on, not hearing her sister's frantic cries.

Liz stared after her until a horde of unmentionables unexpectedly ran over a nearby hill and began following in Lydia's direction. Liz had never seen so many zombies in her life. There must have been at least five hundred coming over the ridge. She removed her katana and raised it high; more determined than ever to reach St. Lazarus, for it did not go unnoticed upon which steed her sister sat.

Darcy had given up his only means of escape for her sister and she persevered on through the noisy St. Lazarus horde, determined to save him. She was almost there.

Elizabeth tore through the woods, happy the undead were not focused on her. The sky was beginning to lighten and she saw a red coat moving in the distance. Wickham. She galloped faster towards him. She saw his right arm was extended high in the air, his own katana firm in his grasp. Wickham's other hand was extended out in front of him, choking the dark figure that knelt before him. He was going to deliver a killing strike. Darcy. No.

Liz approached and raised her blade, cutting through Wickham's upper arm as she passed. She quickly turned her horse and rounded back, trampling Wickham under the horse's hooves. Darcy slumped downward, gasping in air.

"Make haste, Mr. Darcy!" Liz cried, but he did not move. Liz turned around and saw Wickham still lying lifeless on the ground behind her. She extended her hand to Darcy. "Take it," she ordered. He dazedly glanced up at her and finally took her hand. She removed her foot from the stirrup and he hoisted himself up behind her.

"Hold on," she said, before springing the horse back to life. His arms wound tightly around her torso, and she enjoyed the warmth of his body behind her to battle the cold night air. They caught up to the tail end of the horde and weaved through. If they were to have any chance of survival, they would have to beat them to the bridge.

Liz could make out the bridge in the distance when Darcy's head fell against her back. She removed her left hand from the reigns and squeezed one of his hand at her stomach. "We're almost there," she said encouragingly before moving her hand back to its original position.

They made their way in front of the intimidating horde and were approaching Hingham Bridge when she heard an officer begin the countdown. Liz encouraged the horse one last time as they began crossing.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

The ground beneath them began to rumble and Elizabeth's ears went deaf from the blast. Debris began hitting her, but they carried on until they were engulfed in smoke and rubble. One final explosion sent her flying forward into the air.

Liz coughed, gasping for air. She opened her eyes and stared at the gray sky. Tiny pieces of ash floated above her and smoke was thick in the air. Her head ached, but she moved it around anyways, trying frantically to find Darcy. She spotted him lying lifeless several feet away. She got to her knees and began crawling towards him, coughing from the exertion and unclean air. The rubble tore through her pantaloons, leaving her knees scarred and bleeding, but she didn't care.

"Mr. Darcy?' she choked out when she reached him. He lay unconscious on his stomach, facing away from her. Elizabeth leaned over Darcy, trying to see if he was breathing. His face was scratched and partially caked with blood. Rubble rest overtop of him. Moving one hand to his head and the other his arm, she carefully flipped him onto his back. Her hand caressed his face, but he still lay impassive and unmoving.

"Mr. Darcy?" she said more urgently after he did not respond. Using both hands she carefully shook his head, willing him to life again. "Mr. Darcy!" she said, panicking. She moved her hand to his chest and inclined her ear over his mouth, both confirming the worst. Elizabeth began sobbing and searched around hysterically for any aid, but they were all alone on what was left of Hingham Bridge. Looking down at him again, she tried once again to feel any movement in his chest and breath from his mouth.

"No," she sobbed, falling against Darcy's chest. She continued letting the tears fall for some time before lifting her head again to gaze at him, her hand caressing his cheek. "From the first moment I beheld you," she admitted, "my heart was irrevocably gone."

She leaned forward and kissed him.

"Lizzy! …Lizzy!" Elizabeth lifted her head from Darcy's unmoving chest and glanced in the direction of the voice. Jane appeared from the cloud of smoke. "Oh, Lizzy!" she sighed in relief upon seeing her.

Elizabeth clung to Darcy's lifeless body and stared helplessly at her sister, silently willing her to understand her agony. Jane's face softened upon recognizing Darcy's lifeless form. She knelt down next to Elizabeth and took her into her arms.

"Jane!" Bingley shouted, stopping short upon seeing Darcy. "No," he said, choking back a sob. His eyes met Elizabeth's.

"We need to move," Jane said after a few moments. "The rest of the bridge could collapse at any moment."

Elizabeth nodded and turned back towards Darcy once more. A cannon sounded and soon all the sounds of war returned, encouraging Liz to spring into action.

"Mr. Bingley," said Liz, "help me get him up."

Bingley rushed over and together they half carried, half dragged Darcy towards one of the tents. Lydia ran over to them.

"Oh no!" she cried, stopping short. Jane wrapped her arms around her youngest sister, attempting to console her. They all proceeded into the tent.

"What happened, Lizzy?" inquired Jane after they laid a still immobile Darcy down on a cot. Jane began examining Darcy, looking for any signs of life. Bingley, Lydia, and Liz stood behind her, frozen.

"By the time I reached him at St. Lazarus the undead congregation had completed their transformation and were en route to the bridge," Liz began, her gaze not faltering from Darcy's face. "I saw Lydia pass by on Darcy's steed and knew he had to be confronting Wickham. I happened upon them in the woods near the church. Wickham was choking Darcy and was about to run him through. With the help of my horse and katana, Wickham was then incapacitated and we hurried off to the bridge."

Bingley and Jane turned and stared wide eyed at her. "So, Wickham is dead?" asked Lydia.

"I believe so," responded Elizabeth. "Although we did not stay long enough to confirm it." Bingley offered a curt nod in approval and she heard Lydia sigh in relief. "Jane, anything?"

Her sister turned from where she knelt next to the cot and shot a hopeless glance towards Liz. "I am sorry…"

"No, we need to get a doctor!" Liz said frantically. "Another opinion."

"Liz.." Jane began.

"No, Jane! No! I will not accept this!" Elizabeth shouted through watery eyes. "Mr. Bingley, is there anyone on hand who can inspect him?"

Bingley nodded once again, but did not appear hopeful. He silently left the tent and came back a short time later with a physician. The man looked done in. His body was caked in both dry and fresh blood, and his hands were trembling from overuse of his nerves and muscles. To Lizzy's dismay, he smelled like death as he walked past.

"Colonel!" the physician said upon seeing Darcy. Bingley must not have informed him who his patient was. The doctor began a series of tests to examine his vitals. After checking his chest, mouth, and nose for any signs of life, he glanced over at Bingley, his face displaying the same sorrow Jane's did only minutes ago.

Liz couldn't stay in the tent any longer. It seemed as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and she started hyperventilating. Stumbling, she fled and ran towards the woods. Grasping onto a tree trunk for support, she gulped in wheezing breaths. After several minutes, she had regained control back of her breathing and slid the ground. Pulling her knees up, she wrapped her arms around herself and cried.

When she opened her eyes again the sun was setting and Jane was rushing towards her.

"LIzzy!" Jane shouted. "Lizzy! He's alive!"

Elizabeth quickly stood up and ran towards the tent.

Liz sat in Lady Catherine's throne room. Her and her sisters occupied chairs on one side of the space and Bingley's sister, Darcy's cousin, and Georgiana were on the other. Liz sensed someone staring at her and she glanced around, finding Caroline's cold gaze. Over the past several weeks Caroline had taken every opportunity to glare at Lizzy, but Liz promptly ignored her childish behavior, mostly for Jane's sake. Her and Bingley had been as happy as she had ever seen them and Liz would not allow anything to stand in their way this time.

Elizabeth turned her attention back to the rifle in her hand. Lifting the cloth once more to her weapon. The ladies had spent the morning canvasing the countryside, killing any undead close by Rosings and they now sat cleaning their weapons, readying them for their next use.

Bingley and Georgiana had been gracious enough to provide her with updates regarding Darcy's condition. Georgiana, in particular, had been a constant presence at Elizabeth's side over the past weeks and Elizabeth had come to feel protective over the sweet girl.

"Lady Catherine," her mother said breaking the silence from her place beside Darcy's aunt, "might I take this moment to compliment you on your pantaloons? And your eye patch, it's very fetching. Is it function or fashion?"

"Function," Lady Catherine responded matter-of-factly.

Lydia burst into the room then, curtsying at her ladyship in greeting. She ran up to her sisters, specifically Kitty, and baited, "Guess who's speaking with Papa in the library! It's…"

Unfortunately her sister was cut off by Franklin, Lady Catherine's butler, who announced Mr. Bingley's presence into the room.

"Lady Catherine," Bingley said, bowing low. "This is all rather embarrassing, but I would like to request the privilege of speaking with Miss Jane. Alone."

Elizabeth shared an enthusiastic smile with Jane before looking at their mother. She looked on the verge of tears from happiness, and she fidgeted in her seat, wanting to say something, but wisely choosing to remain silent. Liz saw Lady Catherine nod in approval.

Jane rose and took Bingley's outstretched hand. Liz watched the pair walk out of the room and then glanced at her mother once more. They exchanged affectionate smiles. It was during that moment that Franklin reentered the room.

"Mr. Darcy, ma'am," he announced.

Elizabeth's hand flew instinctively to her throat in shock, and she quickly turned first to Georgiana, who smirked at her, and then to the entryway. Georgiana had told her Darcy was alert, but she did not anticipate him to make an appearance so soon. Oh that girl's schemes. She felt nervous, anxious, and overwhelmed. When he walked through the doorway she felt a new level of apprehension consume her. He was in his typical black ensemble and she sighed in relief upon seeing that his scars and bruises had cleared.

"Ah. My favorite nephew," said Lady Catherine, "you lay unconscious for so long that when we'd heard you'd risen, we'd feared you'd joined the ranks of the undead. Any word from the canal?"

"It's holding for the time being," he responded. He glanced over at Elizabeth and their eyes met briefly.

"YES!" they heard from the hallway. She saw Darcy smile and her heart told her that this too was for her benefit.

"Jane said yes!" Lydia shrieked.

"Would you excuse me?" Mrs. Bennet asked lady Catherine, not waiting for an answer before rushing out with the other ladies to congratulate the newly engaged couple.

"Quick! Quick!" Lydia urged everyone.

Elizabeth remained seated, still stunned by his very presence. She heard all her sisters giggling with joy in the hallway, offering their heartfelt congratulations to their eldest sister. Bingley's sister and Anne left with Georgiana. After Lady Catherine rose up to leave, Elizabeth followed, uneasy about being alone in the same room with him.

She had been headstrong in the In-Between and she never thanked him for all he had done for Lydia and herself. She felt insignificant in his presence and she feared what he would say. Elizabeth ran her palms over the fabric of her gown, trying to rid them of the excess moisture that started to accumulate. She dare not glance at him as she passed, instead her eyes remained fixed on the entryway. Half of her wanted to stay and the other half wished to flee. She decided to make the decision his.

"Miss Bennet," he said quietly as she walked by.

She took in a deep breath and faced him, knowing she could not refuse him anything. For she owed him so much and Liz felt so inadequate. So exposed.

"Mr. Darcy. You look as though you're fully mended," Elizabeth offered.

"I am. Thank you."

She smiled politely at him, wanting to say so much more. Instead she looked at the tiled floor, afraid her face would give her away. She never wanted something… someone… so much and she was unsure if he was still within her grasp.

"If it wasn't for you," he continued, "I'd have surely perished. You have saved me in more ways than one… What you said to me on Hingham Bridge…"

Elizabeth glanced up at him in astonishment and met his gaze. "You heard me?" she gasped. A blush fell upon her cheeks as she also wondered if he felt her kiss him.

"I did… it gave me hope," Darcy admitted.

"Of what?" she asked, longing that he could still, after all this time, still feel the same way. Despite the way she had treated him, misjudged him, and been outspokenly judgmental towards him.

"That your feelings towards me may have changed," he admitted. "However, one word from you now will silence me on the subject forever."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to say that she had changed her mind. That he was exactly the man who, in both disposition and talents, would most suit her. That she was sorry for judging him based on her prejudices. She wanted to beg for his forgiveness and thank him for all that he had done for her. For Lydia. And now for Jane with Bingley.

But she thought better of it. She closed her mouth and, for the first time in her life, opted to remain silent. She wanted him and if it took silence on her part to possibly help it come to pass, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. Sealing her fate, she lifted her head up slightly, signaling to him that she would not speak.

Encouraged, he took a step closer, and she once again lost her nerve. She met his eyes and the intensity frightened her. She glanced down and stared at his feet instead, trying to regain composure. Taking a deep breath, she once again lifted her eyes to his.

"You are the love of my life Elizabeth Bennet," whispered Darcy. "So I ask you now, half in anguish, half in hope, will you do me the great, great honor of taking me for your husband?"

Elizabeth breathed in a sigh of relief. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes… Yes…"

He smiled back at her and leaned forward. Her hand touched his cheek. She could feel the fresh stubble along his jawline. As she leaned in she instinctively closed her eyes and parted her lips slightly, wanting to breathe in the taste of him. He wrapped his arms protectively around her and she cherished the warmth. She moved her hands in order to bring him closer. One wrapped around his neck, the other wound its fingers through his dark hair. He was alive and he was hers. And this time, she was never going to let him go.