Pestilence by William J. Seymour

Author:William J. Seymour [Seymour, William J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror | Post-Apocalyptic | Infected
Publisher: Book Furnace Publications
Published: 2019-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

The doors are barred from the inside. At least twenty feet tall, it's a castle built in the middle of a crater and they are little more than ants beside a thousand tons of steel and rock. Heads stand at attention from corner tower to corner. A dozen or more rifles all trained on them.

A calmness settles over Merchant. His heart slows where anyone else’s would speed up. His hands loosen, and the weight of his burden lessens as the shadow of the fortress settles over him.

Death to his rear. Pain and suffering before him. Red and her nervousness more explosive than a bomb ready to explode beside him. He can feel her anger. Disarmed before they reached the door, she is pissed, and he may be lucky he had her drop the rifle.

There are plenty inside to be had. He knows this. She knows this. In the end, she still said he can go fuck himself.

Good, she's finally thinking straight. Snake-Eyes is gone. Like the weight of his burden, he can no longer feel the hatred from the vile man. This is worrisome, but it's too late for that.

Merchant waits.

The darkness closes in as the last of the sunlight ignites the horizon behind the fortress with an explosive burst and then is gone. They will soon be here.

"State your name and your purpose," a voice calls down from the top of the wall.

No emotion, all business. Almost as if it was an everyday occurrence.

"This is Red. My name is Merchant," he answers. There is no reason to give what is not given. Not if these are soldiers like those they left to rot back at the village.

Boots shuffle and he can still feel the barrels of enough weapons to fight a war aimed at his chest.

"Your purpose, and don't make me ask again or we'll open you up where you stand," the man command with more bravado than is necessary when speaking a dozen to two.

Hefting his bag higher onto his shoulder, Merchant looks at Red and then back to the nameless heads above.

"Traveling west, we are looking for shelter. We need the rest and if we are lucky maybe even trade for some supplies. We’ve put a lot of distance behind us and could really use a roof over our heads for the evening."

Nothing in response.

"Infected aren't too far behind. We are unarmed and if you don't let us in, we'll die out here no matter what."

Lightening streaks across the blackness of the sky and the dead forest behind them is a mass hovering and waiting to attack. The shadows move, and he knows they are running out of time.

"You're out of luck partner. Night is here, and we do not open the doors once the sun is down. If you are lucky you can stay out ahead of them. Keep away from the forest edge and do not look back. By the grace of God, they'll be too busy fighting us and you might have a chance," the voice calls down to them.

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