Lanherne Chronicles (Book 3): Last 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 3

‘God, it feels like someone’s stomped up and down my back and then kicked me in the neck for the fun of it,’ said Karen, arching her back and moving slowly from side to side.

‘Still a bit tender from your tumble last night?’ asked Steve, spooning the last of some cold porridge into his mouth. ‘I’m not surprised. You landed quite hard down on that trowel, got yourself some nasty bruises there, I bet.’

‘If only,’ Karen replied, rolling her neck to stretch out the aching muscles, ‘it was sleeping on that bloody floor that’s done me in. Haven’t you people ever thought to bring an inflatable mattress or lilo on these trips?’

‘I’m just as much a newbie as you,’ said Steve, smiling as he tipped a little water in his bowl, swished it around, and then threw its contents into a corner. ‘Might be something to suggest to Patrick and the others though.’

‘Hmm…’ Karen replied, stiffly reaching down to pick up her jacket.

‘We’re leaving in a few minutes,’ said Phil, popping his head through the office doorway, ‘so if you feel you might need to do something, do it now.’

‘Do something?’ said Karen, a confused look on her face as she looked back at Steve who was bundling up the last of the blankets. ‘Like what? Go shopping?’

‘He’s means if you need the loo; go now, because we’ll not be stopping for a few hours,’ Steve replied, patting her shoulder as he walked past her, ‘and try not to get eaten this time.’

‘Oh, screw you.’ She said, quickly glancing back to double check that they hadn’t forgotten anything.

After finding a secluded part of the shop to take Phil’s advice, Karen joined Steve and the others by the cart.

‘It seems a waste to leave them,’ Phil was saying, gesturing to the pile of shiny spades, garden forks, and hedging sheers, ‘and I doubt we’ll be coming this far from home again.’

‘I agree, but it’s a bit cramped as it is in the cart,’ Patrick answered, picking up a pair of shears that looked like an enormous pair of scissors, ‘we could strap some to the roof I suppose.’

‘And the rest can be attached to Samson’s saddle,’ added Liz, giving the trusty stallion’s neck a friendly pat, ‘you don’t mind, do you boy?’

‘Well, whatever we do, we’d better decide quickly,’ interrupted Imran from his lookout point on top of the cart, ‘looks like we’ll be getting some company soon.’

With this, each member of the group turned to look in the direction Imran was pointing. There, moving painfully slow, were over a dozen of the Dead in various states of decomposition. Step by step, they dragged their ruined bodies along the driveway toward the garden centre, drawn to the sounds of the living they had heard on the breeze. Already, one of the pitiful creatures, an armless Dead woman, had made it as far as the fence. Unable to understand why she could go no further, she pushed herself against the fencing and gnashed viciously against the wire.

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