Beyond These Walls (Book 6): Three Days by Robertson Michael

Author:Robertson, Michael [Robertson, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | Infected
Published: 2020-02-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

William ran his hand over the top of his head, his hair soft from where the thick stubble of his crewcut had grown out. They’d been walking for about half an hour, the grey clouds above threatening rain. When a large drop landed on his head, he said, “At last.”

Artan walked at the front of their line. He turned back and raised an eyebrow. William pointed at the sky. “Rain!” Another drop landed on his head. Then another. Then another.

As the rain grew heavier, William rubbed his hands over his head again, cleaning the diseased funk from his hair and then his face. He looked up at the sky and let it fall onto his tongue. The slightly muddy taste of rainwater drove away the gamey tang of deer meat and dehydration.

The other boys did the same as they walked along the deep ravine in the steel mountain. The walls ran up into the sky on either side at a gradient too step to climb, especially now they glistened with rainwater. Even their path turned slick, William’s feet sliding once or twice with his progress.

Jezebel slung over one shoulder, William kept a hand free to soften his fall should he slip. Artan maintained a two-handed grip on his war hammer. Maybe he trusted his balance more than William did.

Cyrus walked behind Artan, and Max took up the rear, his face locked in its usual scowl, his lips pursed. The narrow path prevented them walking side by side. Artan halted up ahead. A pit down to his left, narrower than the one they’d been in with the diseased but just as deep.

Filled with rocks, it took William a second to see the leg protruding from beneath the landslide. “He doesn’t look like he’s been dead long.”

While letting out a long sigh, Artan scratched his head. “At least it means they haven’t had time to re-arm the trap. Better him than us.” He moved off.

Cyrus remained rooted to the spot, staring down into the pit. William gave him a gentle nudge to encourage him forwards. The man in the pit hadn’t stood a chance. Some of the rocks were large enough to take a life on their own. So many had rained down on him, they’d all but buried him. Less keen eyes could have been forgiven for missing the man there at all.

For the second time in as many minutes, Artan halted. The wash of rain slammed down on them, cleaning away any trace of the diseased. William leaned around Cyrus. “Artan, what’s going on?”

Artan spun around, his finger pressed to his lips.

Were the rain not hammering his surroundings, William would have heard it much sooner. Holding Jezebel with both hands, he skirted around Cyrus and closer to Artan. “The hunters?”

Artan nodded.

“How far away?”

The path ahead of them bent around to the right. Artan shrugged. “Twenty feet. At the most.”

“Shall we climb up there?” Cyrus pointed at the wall on their right. A slightly gentler slope than that on their left, it led to a ledge about ten feet above.

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