Sleep, Think, Die by Oldham S P

Author:Oldham, S P [Oldham, S P]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Zombies
Published: 2017-03-11T07:00:00+00:00

Pleased with his haul, Carson unwound a length of the washing line, snipped if with the shears, then attached it to one length of stick. He pushed one of the longer nails through the wire at the other end. There was no way of securing the nail on; it was the best he could do.

The shears were already proving invaluable. Using them to dig into the wet mud of the bank, he uncovered a fat worm, which he impaled on the nail. He had never fished in his life, had no idea what he might catch with an earthworm, if anything at all, but he had to try. He used the shears to help curl the end of the nail into something resembling a hook, to prevent the worm from slipping off.

As ready as he would ever be, Carson discarded his shoes, worn socks and jeans and sat on the river bank much as Lavender had done before him. He noticed that the sky had begun to lighten considerably; if he was to wake the others before full light, then he didn’t have long.

He gave a gasp as the unexpectedly icy coldness of the river closed about his feet, retracting them hurriedly in unpleasant surprise. Remembering his determination to catch breakfast he lowered them in again, this time readying himself for the shock.

It wasn’t so bad after a minute or two; it was even quite pleasant. More focused, Carson grasped the measuring stick and lowered it into the river alongside his feet, holding it as straight as he could. He pressed down until he felt it meeting the softness of the river bed below. Pretty shallow here; barely a third of it was wet.

Encouraged, without giving himself too long to think about it. Carson threw his T shirt off over his head, grabbed the fishing stick in his other hand and sank down into the water. It came to just above his knees, the river bed oozing unpleasantly between his toes.

A good start. He extended the arm with the measuring stick and checked the depth further out. Hardly deeper than where he was now. Carson continued the process, checking for depth with the stick before venturing further into the river, until he was standing waist deep in the water. Reasoning that he stood a better chance of catching something here rather than close by the bank, Carson raised his improvised fishing rod with one hand, an awkward movement since he was still holding the measuring stick in the other, and cast out his line.

It fell with a feeble plop into the water. Carson wasn’t even sure that the nail or the worm were still attached. Disheartened, he began to feel foolish for trying.

Unbelievably, just moments later there was a tug on the line. Clueless as to how to proceed, Carson gave in to knee jerk reaction. He grasped the rod with both hands, still holding the other stick, and jerked it up and back with a motion that was almost violent.

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