Read Online Winter Smith (Book 1): London's Burning by J.S. Strange - Free Book Online Page B

escape this way was probably dead. She couldn’t see that much blood, but she could smell the death.
                  She turned to Connor and saw that the table leg she had been holding was stuck in his shoulder. Connor sat up, his head bleeding. He moaned at the pain, and Winter glanced back towards the lane. She realised the beings were listening to Connor’s moan, trying to work out where it was coming from.
                  Winter placed a finger to his lips. He looked at her and she nodded towards the lane. He turned and saw what she saw and his face filled with fear. Tears began to roll down his eyes. He was hopeless and scared.
                  Refusing to be undeterred, Winter pressed her finger against his lips harder, warning him they needed to be quiet.
                  “Don’t make any sound,” she whispered. “I have to take this out, otherwise you’re going to cut something bad. It doesn’t look like it’s in too deep.”
                  “It’s just pierced the skin.” Connor nodded.
                  “Don’t scream.”
                  And Winter pulled the leg table out of Connor’s shoulder. He screamed and the sounds of the beings from the lane became louder. They began hissing and screeching in their spine-chilling way, and when Winter glanced at the bushes she saw they were pulling it away, their eyes on their next prey. A black crow, startled, shot past Winter’s shoulder.
                  “Oh my god.” Connor gasped, the colour draining from his face.
                  “Come on.” Winter ordered.
                  They hacked away at the branches in front of them, heading towards the road. The snaps of bark, like bone, and the rustling of leaves were loud and seemed to anger the beings behind them even more. Winter had no idea how safe this was going to be, but with the beings behind them making their way in, they had no choice.
                  They finally reached the road and rolled out across the ground. The streets in front of them were ruined; bins tipped over, glass smashed, doors hanging off hinges, and the last survivors running as far away as they could. The decaying remained by the gates, trying to rip the bushes apart, unaware that their prey was out in the open.
                  “We need to get to the next town,” Connor said, standing up. He winced at the pain in his shoulder.
                  Winter stood up next to him, moving closer, scared of being alone. She wanted shelter and protection.
                  Nothing had noticed their presence yet. The things in the lane were all hurrying up towards the commotion Winter had just escaped from, while the beings in the streets in front were too preoccupied with other survivors.
                  They hadn’t escaped the screams yet.
                  “You’re bleeding,” Connor said, noticing Winter’s cut arm and palm.
                  “It’s nothing,” Winter said. “Come on, we need to go.”
                  With her bleeding palm she grabbed Connor and they hurried away from the lane and down a slight hill, away from the streets. They stopped; looking at the street before them, checking it was quiet.
                  At the end of the road was a roundabout, with the road straight-ahead heading towards the next town. The roundabout was quiet, with no signs of any of these beings near.
                  After a distant scream and the sounds of something being broken, Winter and Connor both silently agreed they needed to move. Fast.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
                  Winter and Connor hurried down Bushey Hall Road. They came to the crossroads. They had made it safe and sound so far, with no sign of any of these beings. In fact,