Lanherne Chronicles (Book 2): Five More Days With The Dead by Charlick Stephen

Author:Charlick, Stephen [Charlick, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: zombies
Publisher: Severed Press
Published: 2013-12-20T05:00:00+00:00

DAY 4

Liz slowly moved her neck from left to right, then up and down. Sleeping curled up on the floor of the ice-cream van had not been the most comfortable of experiences, especially now that she was trying to move again. Her muscles protested against the sudden movement, causing Liz to wince as a spasm of pain shot across her shoulders. Rubbing the back of her neck with her hand, Liz sat up.

During the night, her breath has not only fogged up the van’s windows but the below zero temperature had frozen the water vapour into swirling patterns of wafer thin ice across the glass. For a few minutes, as she tried to bring warmth to her aching muscles, her eyes followed the intricate ebb and flow of the formed ice. Blooming from the bottom of the windows, it had crept steadily upwards during the night until only a small section at the top was now free of this frozen lace. From what little light that managed to penetrate deep into the garage and through the sheets of ice that enclosed her, she could tell it was early morning. Beyond the confines of the van, she could hear Samson stamping his hooves and snorting.

‘Either hungry or eager to get moving to warm up his muscles… me too, Samson… me too,’ she thought to herself, using the side of a long defunct freezer to pull herself up off the floor.

Standing upright, she was just about the right height to see through the section of the windows free from ice. Through this small clear section, she could see out onto the snow-covered driveway outside, the morning sun reflecting off a thousand diamonds of ice.

‘Better get going before they get too far ahead again,’ she thought to herself, taking one last stretch to loosen her muscles.

Reaching for the handle on the back door, Liz suddenly froze, her hand hovering millimetres from the metal bar. Looking down at her slightly shaking fingers, she knew something was wrong. She knew this as a certainty. Yet what exactly was wrong seemed to dance just out of her reach. Something unknown was shouting out to her, demanding that she recognise the warning it held. Then, in a flash, the thought came to her, solid and terrifying.

‘The garage door!’

She had made sure it was pulled to last night so Samson would be out of the wind. It now hung open. Slowly she withdrew her hand away from the handle, her eyes flicking back up to the ice-covered glass once more. Outside the van, Samson snorted again, not with eagerness to go, she now realised, but an eagerness to get away. The difference was obvious now that she knew something was amiss. With her heart pounding in her chest and the surge of adrenalin coursing through her, Liz reached up to place her hand against the thin sheet of ice that had formed on the window of the door. Feeling the cold ice beneath the warmth of her palm, Liz watched as the heat from her body radiated out to melt the thin ice quickly.

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