The Dark Winter: A Supernatural Apocalypse Novel (Whiteout Book 2) by Flint Maxwell

Author:Flint Maxwell [Maxwell, Flint]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Void Press
Published: 2020-04-03T22:00:00+00:00

The dark spell lasted longer than all the others had, in the day, at least. The data I’d recorded in my notebook before leaving on my own to the town store was all but useless now.

We spent about thirty hours in that strange house. Over that time, Chewy emptied the box of Milk-Bones. We gave him some chunky chicken noodle soup, minus the soup part. He devoured the chicken and noodles and the few vegetables he could eat. Luckily, Eleanor knew onions were poisonous to dogs, and so we picked all of them out.

I remembered one of the houses I searched after Helga told me the news about our lack of food had an unopened twenty-pound bag of Purina dog food. I remembered this because I picked it up, my stomach growling painfully, and thought Is this what it’s gonna come down to?

We left after those thirty hours, our food stored on the sled, Chewy wrapped up in many blankets and stuffed into Stone’s jacket. Just his snout stuck out beneath Stone’s chin, which was a comical sight. I hauled them through the fresh snow, Eleanor walking beside me.

The rest had done me good. I felt renewed, reinvigorated. Because of this, we made decent time. The three-quarters of a mile of distance took us about two hours, a record considering our luggage and the fresh snowfall.

We stopped at the house I’d broken into not long ago, and I grabbed the big bag of dog food. I was breathing raggedly at this point, all that new energy almost drained. When I came back outside, Eleanor had the sled’s rope tied around her waist.

Stone offered an apologetic look, stuck his arms out to the side. “I tried to tell her, Grady. She wasn’t having it.”

“Ell, don’t—” I began.

She held up a hand, palm out. “No, Grady, you’ve done enough. Just carry the dog food,” Ell said. “I’ll lug these guys. We’re almost there, anyway.” Her eyes told me she wasn’t taking no for an answer either.

I conceded, hesitantly but gratefully.

Helga’s house didn’t become visible until we were about a hundred feet away from it. It was a sight for sore eyes, let me tell you. I nearly collapsed when I saw it.

The sky wasn’t dark yet, but it was on its way. The house gave us all a boost and we reached the driveway—well, where it was buried beneath all the snow—also in near-record time.

Mikey was outside, bundled up in a dark brown jacket. He hadn’t seen us yet. He was too busy chopping firewood for the fireplace, which was gas-powered. Running out of food had been an awakening for Helga. This was her way of being more prepared. As soon as the gas went, we’d have the wood to replace it. Good for us, but I didn’t think we’d be around long enough to see that.

The food we brought would only last a month or so, and then we’d have to move on to Avery’s Mills, where we could hopefully find a vehicle capable of traversing all this snow.

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