Read Online Whispers From The Dark by Bryan Hall - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bryan Hall
Ads: Link
armpits. The weight of them all was crushing, making it hard to breath. He tried once to move but didn’t have the strength to fight against their mass.
The stench grew stronger as the thing stopped a few feet from him. The beast seemed to study him, the moonlight gleaming off its squirming body.
Each breath was a battle now, and Rick could feel himself losing consciousness.
The creature spoke but Rick couldn’t make out the words; all he heard was the insect-like drone buzzing inside his head.
He thought of Clarissa, and of Maggie. She’d just learned to walk, and the image of her toddling proudly across the living room floor filled his thoughts.
He was unconscious when the worms began to bore their way into his flesh.
WHEN IT RAINS IT POURS
Solitude didn’t bother Cody; he’d spent practically all of his twenty-five years alone. He hadn’t even shed a single tear when the human race came to an end five weeks ago.
What did bother him was the ungodly stench that lingered in the crisp winter air, wafting its way through the entire town. He’d noticed it on his last two trips into town, and although there were only a couple dozen homes within the vicinity of the house he’d claimed as his own, Cody knew it was only a matter of time before the stink of the bodies in those homes began to reach him.
He had no intention of dealing with every corpse in the town, but the ones that were close to where he now lived had to be dealt with, and he had been dreading the task. He'd been trying to put it off but the stench was becoming too bad. The cold had prolonged their decomposition, but there was no way to procrastinate any longer. He was used to seeing the bodies, but now he was going to have to touch them… move them. He wasn't looking forward to it. That was part of the reason he’d moved into the house he had taken as his own was the fact that it was an empty bank foreclosure, thus no corpses inside to contend with. It didn't hurt that it was a hell of an upgrade from the small one bedroom house he'd been calling home before the world ended.
He walked up the steps and onto the porch of the first house, slipping on the paint respirator he’d taken from the hardware store. He pulled on the thick leather gloves, took a deep breath, and kicked the door hard just below the handle. Immediately the stink intensified. He was thankful he’d thought of the respirator; even with it on he could still smell the rotting bodies, and he hated to imagine what it would be like without it.
He found them in the master bedroom, their bodies tangled together on the bed. It took Cody several minutes to muster the courage required to grab the first corpse and pull it off the bed.
Cody carried it outside and placed it into the back of the pickup, then went back inside for the other.
Five and a half hours later, Cody threw the last of the bodies off the truck and into the large pile he’d made in Devin Smith’s horse pasture. The horses had watched with curiosity at first, but had now made their way to the other side of the huge field and stood grazing, ignoring Cody’s presence.
Fifty-seven corpses, all told. He knew who about half of them were - vague acquaintances who he’d spoken to when necessary. The pile was about ten feet in diameter and taller than Cody. He was thankful he lived in such a small town. If he had been somewhere like Atlanta or New York the number could have been fifty-seven thousand.
The thought of himself in a big city made him chuckle.
People were assholes. Every single one he’d known, from the old bastard that ran the orphanage he’d grown up in all the way to the waitresses at O’ Patton’s Pub who used to flirt with him to try and get better tips. Assholes. He’d spent his youth as a ridiculed outcast, too ugly and shy to find even one person who he could befriend. By the time he was in high
The stench grew stronger as the thing stopped a few feet from him. The beast seemed to study him, the moonlight gleaming off its squirming body.
Each breath was a battle now, and Rick could feel himself losing consciousness.
The creature spoke but Rick couldn’t make out the words; all he heard was the insect-like drone buzzing inside his head.
He thought of Clarissa, and of Maggie. She’d just learned to walk, and the image of her toddling proudly across the living room floor filled his thoughts.
He was unconscious when the worms began to bore their way into his flesh.
WHEN IT RAINS IT POURS
Solitude didn’t bother Cody; he’d spent practically all of his twenty-five years alone. He hadn’t even shed a single tear when the human race came to an end five weeks ago.
What did bother him was the ungodly stench that lingered in the crisp winter air, wafting its way through the entire town. He’d noticed it on his last two trips into town, and although there were only a couple dozen homes within the vicinity of the house he’d claimed as his own, Cody knew it was only a matter of time before the stink of the bodies in those homes began to reach him.
He had no intention of dealing with every corpse in the town, but the ones that were close to where he now lived had to be dealt with, and he had been dreading the task. He'd been trying to put it off but the stench was becoming too bad. The cold had prolonged their decomposition, but there was no way to procrastinate any longer. He was used to seeing the bodies, but now he was going to have to touch them… move them. He wasn't looking forward to it. That was part of the reason he’d moved into the house he had taken as his own was the fact that it was an empty bank foreclosure, thus no corpses inside to contend with. It didn't hurt that it was a hell of an upgrade from the small one bedroom house he'd been calling home before the world ended.
He walked up the steps and onto the porch of the first house, slipping on the paint respirator he’d taken from the hardware store. He pulled on the thick leather gloves, took a deep breath, and kicked the door hard just below the handle. Immediately the stink intensified. He was thankful he’d thought of the respirator; even with it on he could still smell the rotting bodies, and he hated to imagine what it would be like without it.
He found them in the master bedroom, their bodies tangled together on the bed. It took Cody several minutes to muster the courage required to grab the first corpse and pull it off the bed.
Cody carried it outside and placed it into the back of the pickup, then went back inside for the other.
Five and a half hours later, Cody threw the last of the bodies off the truck and into the large pile he’d made in Devin Smith’s horse pasture. The horses had watched with curiosity at first, but had now made their way to the other side of the huge field and stood grazing, ignoring Cody’s presence.
Fifty-seven corpses, all told. He knew who about half of them were - vague acquaintances who he’d spoken to when necessary. The pile was about ten feet in diameter and taller than Cody. He was thankful he lived in such a small town. If he had been somewhere like Atlanta or New York the number could have been fifty-seven thousand.
The thought of himself in a big city made him chuckle.
People were assholes. Every single one he’d known, from the old bastard that ran the orphanage he’d grown up in all the way to the waitresses at O’ Patton’s Pub who used to flirt with him to try and get better tips. Assholes. He’d spent his youth as a ridiculed outcast, too ugly and shy to find even one person who he could befriend. By the time he was in high
Similar Books
