Read Online The Dying & The Dead 1: Post Apocalyptic Survival by Jack Lewis - Free Book Online
Authors: Jack Lewis
Ads: Link
rising and crashing, the spray and foam
splattering in the air. It was an endless sheet of darkness except for the
distance, where he swore he could see a shape.
It
can’t be, he
thought . Miles away, battling against the waves, he was sure he could
see a boat. He knew this couldn’t really be the case. Ever since the outbreak
not a single boat had visited Golgoth, and they hadn’t heard from the mainland
in years. Was there anyone alive there anymore? Was there a government? Was
there anything except the monsters that walked in human skin?
Something
screamed behind him, but this time it wasn’t the wind. He turned and saw a
figure running straight at him, cloaked in darkness. As it got closer, he
realised it was Bethelyn.
“What
the hell, Ed?” she shouted, struggling to talk over the wind. She wore a
raincoat that she had fastened so hastily that she had missed a button.
“What?”
he said.
She
stopped a foot away from him, grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the cliff
edge with a strength he didn’t expect. He shrugged her away.
“What’s
your problem?”
“I
don’t trust you around cliff edges,” she said.
He
pointed out to the sea. “I saw a ship out there.”
“Bullshit.
There’s no way a ship would sail in this.”
“Maybe
you’re right,” he said. “You need something?”
The
wind swept a wild curl over her face. She tucked it back with a gloved hand.
“I was
taping up my windows like you said, but I decided that wasn’t going to cut it.
I’m going to board them up instead. I have spare wood and nails if you want
some?”
“I’ll
be okay.”
“It’s
getting really bad.”
“Trust
me, I’ll be fine. But thanks.”
They
walked away from the cliff and toward their houses. Despite himself, Ed felt warmth
for Bethelyn. He’d spurned any sort of company for so long that a small part of
him appreciated the interest she took in him. As quickly as that feeling rose
he smashed it down and reminded himself that people come, but they always go.
Another thing that was as predictable as the tide.
“You know,”
Bethelyn said, “When the outbreak started, the council had loads of long
meetings. We decided we were remote enough to stay unaffected, but that we’d
prepare in case it hit. There’s a room under the town hall. You should see it,
Ed. Wall to wall of preserves, fuel, weapons. We could last a hundred
outbreaks, but we never prepared for the weather. This storm is going to
destroy us.”
“There’s
nothing we can do about it.”
“I
guess. We just need to try and weather it,” she said, her face deadpan.
He shook
his head. Her joke reminded him of the kind his dad always used to make. Ones
that were so unfunny that it wasn’t even right to call them jokes. He used to
shake his head and tell himself what a loser his dad was, but now he found
himself wishing he could hear another awful pun.
“That
was so bad you just took a year off my life,” he said.
“They
wanted you to join the council, you know.”
“Yeah.”
“It
would be good for you. I joined it out of boredom, but it’s good to have a say
in things.”
“Sometimes
it’s good to say nothing.”
As
they got nearer their houses Ed decided to walk past his own and make sure
Bethelyn got safely to her cottage, despite knowing he probably needed her help
more than she needed his.
Ivy
climbed the stonework of her house and strained under the gust of the wind. Her
window frames and doorway were yellow and stood out against the slate roof and
brown walls as though Bethelyn was making a statement against the night. The
stonework outside was covered in wooden beams which were coated in rain and
warped in the middle. A knee-high plant pot was next to the door but there were
no plants inside, and instead rain water had collected halfway up the ceramic.
“Well
thanks Ed,” she said. “I
splattering in the air. It was an endless sheet of darkness except for the
distance, where he swore he could see a shape.
It
can’t be, he
thought . Miles away, battling against the waves, he was sure he could
see a boat. He knew this couldn’t really be the case. Ever since the outbreak
not a single boat had visited Golgoth, and they hadn’t heard from the mainland
in years. Was there anyone alive there anymore? Was there a government? Was
there anything except the monsters that walked in human skin?
Something
screamed behind him, but this time it wasn’t the wind. He turned and saw a
figure running straight at him, cloaked in darkness. As it got closer, he
realised it was Bethelyn.
“What
the hell, Ed?” she shouted, struggling to talk over the wind. She wore a
raincoat that she had fastened so hastily that she had missed a button.
“What?”
he said.
She
stopped a foot away from him, grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the cliff
edge with a strength he didn’t expect. He shrugged her away.
“What’s
your problem?”
“I
don’t trust you around cliff edges,” she said.
He
pointed out to the sea. “I saw a ship out there.”
“Bullshit.
There’s no way a ship would sail in this.”
“Maybe
you’re right,” he said. “You need something?”
The
wind swept a wild curl over her face. She tucked it back with a gloved hand.
“I was
taping up my windows like you said, but I decided that wasn’t going to cut it.
I’m going to board them up instead. I have spare wood and nails if you want
some?”
“I’ll
be okay.”
“It’s
getting really bad.”
“Trust
me, I’ll be fine. But thanks.”
They
walked away from the cliff and toward their houses. Despite himself, Ed felt warmth
for Bethelyn. He’d spurned any sort of company for so long that a small part of
him appreciated the interest she took in him. As quickly as that feeling rose
he smashed it down and reminded himself that people come, but they always go.
Another thing that was as predictable as the tide.
“You know,”
Bethelyn said, “When the outbreak started, the council had loads of long
meetings. We decided we were remote enough to stay unaffected, but that we’d
prepare in case it hit. There’s a room under the town hall. You should see it,
Ed. Wall to wall of preserves, fuel, weapons. We could last a hundred
outbreaks, but we never prepared for the weather. This storm is going to
destroy us.”
“There’s
nothing we can do about it.”
“I
guess. We just need to try and weather it,” she said, her face deadpan.
He shook
his head. Her joke reminded him of the kind his dad always used to make. Ones
that were so unfunny that it wasn’t even right to call them jokes. He used to
shake his head and tell himself what a loser his dad was, but now he found
himself wishing he could hear another awful pun.
“That
was so bad you just took a year off my life,” he said.
“They
wanted you to join the council, you know.”
“Yeah.”
“It
would be good for you. I joined it out of boredom, but it’s good to have a say
in things.”
“Sometimes
it’s good to say nothing.”
As
they got nearer their houses Ed decided to walk past his own and make sure
Bethelyn got safely to her cottage, despite knowing he probably needed her help
more than she needed his.
Ivy
climbed the stonework of her house and strained under the gust of the wind. Her
window frames and doorway were yellow and stood out against the slate roof and
brown walls as though Bethelyn was making a statement against the night. The
stonework outside was covered in wooden beams which were coated in rain and
warped in the middle. A knee-high plant pot was next to the door but there were
no plants inside, and instead rain water had collected halfway up the ceramic.
“Well
thanks Ed,” she said. “I
Similar Books
