Read Online Five More Days With The Dead (Lanherne Chronicles Book 2) by Stephen Charlick - Free Book Online Page A

who had tortured his own soul beyond reason. With one last classroom to check, they knew they had reached their goal. Coming from the room was the sound of the tell-tale moaning of one the Dead and Toby’s anxious barking.
    ‘Ready?’ Phil whispered.
    With the smallest of nods from Imran, Phil pushed open the last classroom door, readying himself for whatever may be inside.
    ‘Oh , crap,’ Phil said, lowering his weapon.
    There, with his arms out stretched desperately reaching for a frightened Toby and his legs kicking back and forth trying to gain purchase was Jackson. He had tied a rope to one of the thick heating pipes that ran along the top of the wall, and by climbing up on a chair for some height, had hung himself. He must have done it almost a week ago, judging from the rancid smell coming from his corpse.   
    ‘Here , Toby, come on, boy,’ Imran called to the distressed dog.
    With one last worried look at its master, Toby reluctantly walked over to Imran to lie down at his feet.
    ‘Well, at least he tied the knot right, so it broke his neck instantly rather than strangling him,’ mumbled Phil, stepping close to look at the kicking Dead man.
    ‘Not much consolation ,’ Imran said quietly, reaching down to pat Toby’s head. ‘Does he have any bite marks?’
    ‘Hang on, I’ll check ,’ replied Phil, swinging his pipe in an arc so the tip connected with the top of Jackson’s head.
    With a wet cracking sound, Jackson’s body suddenly went limp.
    ‘Well, I could n’t check while he was moving.’
    After Phil had cut down Jackson’s body and checked for any obvious bites, he looked up at Imran.
    ‘Nothing,’ he said, ‘Must’ve topped himself.’
    ‘Shit!’ Imran replied . ‘We should have kept a closer eye on him, the poor bastard.’
    ‘But why now?’ asked Phil , looking down at the Jackson’s still form. ‘It’s not as if his wife died recently. He’s lived with her decaying corpse for almost eight years… I wonder what tipped him over the edge?’
    ‘I think I know ,’ said Imran, gesturing to the pair of dead feet sticking out from behind an over turned table.
    The b ody of Jackson’s long dead wife had been propped up against the opposite wall. It would have been the last thing the poor man saw as he left this world. Phil walked over to the body and crouching down, examined the still corpse.
    ‘Well , no prize for what sent him over the edge,’ Phil said, yanking a wickedly sharp serrated knife from her skull.
    The woman’s skull had been shattered with such force that even part of the blade guard had punctured t hrough into her cranial cavity.
    ‘The question is who finished off the old lady? Certainly wasn’t Jackson, here.’
    ‘No ,’ Imran agreed, his brow creasing with concern, ‘Not only did he simply not have the strength to inflict a blow like that, I doubt he could’ve brought himself to do it even if she’d been attacking him.’
    ‘And this is n ew, barely been used,’ said Phil, holding up the knife covered in thick dark blood. ‘Whoever left this behind was either stupid or had enough to spare.’
    ‘Look, let ’s deal with one problem at a time shall we?’ Imran said, realising there was nothing more they could do here. ‘If raiders are in the area, the Convent is well protected. They won’t have a hope of getting in, and I think we should get going to the Penhaligan’s if we want any chance of getting there before nightfall, don’t you?’
    ‘Hmmm ,’ was all Phil could say, as he stood to follow Imran out of the classroom, still examining the strangely new knife in his hand.
    ‘Well, come on then, Toby,’ Imran said, tapping the side of his leg, ‘Can’t just leave you behind, boy.’
    Instantly, the dog jumped to his feet and with his tail wagging furiously, the three of them left behind the two corpses of Mr and Mrs Jackson, who were finally brought together again in death.
    ‘Well?’ Duncan asked them, as they climbed back into the