Prison of Despair (Island of Fog Book 8) by Keith Robinson

Author:Keith Robinson
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Unearthly Tales
Published: 2014-07-18T22:00:00+00:00

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The rest of the night lasted a lifetime. Hal drifted off to sleep, then woke again feeling refreshed. It had to be many hours later, only it was still dark. Fenton and Dewey sat on the floor talking in low voices, wide awake. Thomas was on one bunk, Robbie on the other. Somehow, Hal kept missing his chance for a slightly more comfortable place to doze.

He yawned and stretched. He could probably go back to sleep if he tried, though his shoulders and back ached, and his head felt like it had a dent on one side. He’d been trying his best to keep his arm under him like a pillow, but it was hard to stay in that position when asleep.

“Oh, for a pillow,” he muttered.

A slithering sound caused him to look up. Fenton and Dewey had paused in their muted conversation, so all three listened closely to the gentle rustling from the ceiling. It was too dark to see anything, though, so Hal reluctantly climbed to his feet.

When he lit up with a blast of fire, the vines quivered as though flinching from the heat. Or perhaps from the light. Curious, Hal breathed fire one more time, watching as the thickest vines squirmed and twisted away, taking the thinner tendrils with them and exposing a large patch of the stone ceiling. As he turned his head and moved the flames, the vines shifted again.

“Definitely alive,” Hal said quietly.

It was a long time before he fell back asleep. The vines kept moving around in the darkness above. He felt sure they were creeping farther down the side walls, too. He shivered, now glad he was on the floor and not one of the bunks.

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