Read Online Class Four: Those Who Survive by Duncan P. Bradshaw - Free Book Online

place by a leather strap across his chest. He dusted his hands together and walked towards the man and boy. “No shit. It can’t be, can it?” he chuckled.
    Francis stopped at the bottom of the stairs, shielding Nathan, who peeked from behind his protector’s legs. “Do I know you, slim?” he asked cautiously.
    The figure continued on his path. Calloused hands reached up and pulled the hood down. “Alright Cissy.”

 
    Chapter Eight
     
    The fire crackled and spat, the wet wood resisting immolation as long as it could. Francis looked across at the now de-robed man and smiled. “Philip, so, how you been? Your brother okay? Did you find your folks? What are you doing here?”
    Nathan looked up from his charred rat on a stick. “You ask lots of questions, Francis,” he said between smirking and chewing.
    “We got to our parents, but it was too late. Mum’s dead and Dad, well, let’s say he’s on a tour of the culinary delights of those still breathing. Kinda why I’m out here to be honest.” Philip peeled strands of meat off the flash-cooked rodent.
    “I’m sorry, slim. Seems like everyone has lost someone these days,” Francis offered, staring into the fire.
    Philip nodded his thanks. “Jim is doing alright. He found Sophie, they’re doing okay. Probably the best thing that could’ve happened to their relationship was the dead coming back to life; they’ve never been happier.”
    The wind picked up its howling, screeching through broken windows. Rain lashed the building like it was trying to scour it from the earth.
    Philip lay dinner down on his robe. “As for me, well, I’m looking for someone.” He plunged a hand down his Palehorse t-shirt and pulled out a key on a chain, which he passed to Francis.
    “A mad bird gave me this, told me that I had to find a place which it would open. As is the way with deranged crones and quests, the clue she gave me was a little on the cryptic side.” Philip warmed his hands against the heat kicking out from the blaze.
    Francis turned the key over in his hand. It was a normal plain brass key. It looked more like a locker key than a normal front door one. Aside from a few nicks and scrapes, it had no symbols or writing on it. “What’s going to be there? When you find this place?” he asked, squinting at the object.
    “Some one . I hope. They’re going to help train me to deal with the zombies. Sounds crazy, huh? Just…I’ve got something left to take care of, someone I need to see,” Philip replied. His eyes welled up before the moisture evaporated.
    “Your dad?” Francis asked. Philip nodded. “Fair enough, pilgrim. You gotta do what you gotta do.”
    “What about you two? You find Shortround here recently or what?” Philip pointed at Nathan who was wrestling with a stringy bit of rat tendon.
    Francis huffed. “Well, he kinda fell into my care after his mum…came back. Was a few hours after I left you guys actually. I headed into town and…had some demons to deal with. I genuinely didn’t care if I lived or died, not after what happened.”
    Philip poked the flaring embers. “What did happen, Franny?”
    “I don’t want to talk about it. As I said, we’ve all lost people. My pops always said that your actions determine the person you are. That’s all I can do now, keep moving, keep Nathan here safe. I made a promise to that woman, I intend to uphold it, even if…” Francis trailed off.
    “I know.” Philip patted Francis’ shoulder. “So, you guys keep moving? Never stay anywhere? Must be tough.”
    Nathan piped up, “I just want to be able to read my comics somewhere, and have Francis read me a story without having to sit up a tree.”
    “Why don’t you head over to Rhayader? We’ve set up a camp there, and it’s growing every day with new survivors. We have people going out now to find other survivors. We’ve even blagged a CB radio, and it’s helping to build up a network of all those who have survived,” Philip said, taking