Poor Hope. She wasn't a character I'd originally created or outlined for this year's novel. She came out of my need to beef up the wordcount for a chapter and I kind of liked her and made her this tragic little backstory.
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Excerpt from Magdalena Crane, Rogue Zombie Hunter
Hope's eyes picked up a far away look as she started to talk about the history that had brought her, not only to St. George, but into a place like Lucky Pete's. "About six months ago on the way West, our wagons were attacked. At first, the leader, Mr. Wright, thought it was those savages. It's well known that Indians attack along that path and we were hoping to escape their notice by coming through with such a small group.
"It was little better than a massacre. Blood, brains, screaming.... The Scourge were everywhere, at least six of them, and they were absolutely ruthless. By the time they'd had their fill of our traveling companions, many of us were wishing it had been Indian braves instead of those accursed zombies. Braves, at least, have some sense of honor when they kill.
"They killed all but three of us. Mr. Wright, his wife Pearl, and myself. Somehow, we'd managed to hide in the back of one of the wagons and escape their notice. The campsite, however, was decimated. Our friends and loved-ones were in pieces, scattered across the ground like nothing more than feed for the coyotes."
Her voice caught heavily in her throat and Hope choked back even more tears. "That was six months ago. Five days ago, I had finally exhausted the money I had left and found myself with no other option. I pushed on to the nearest town, sold my horse, and attempted to find some form of gainful employment. Pete was the only one who would take me."
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