began thrashing against them, tears seeping from her eyes, but she couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and twenty pounds, and so they dragged her away from the bodies without hindrance. Their silent struggle raged as they walked, fighting back towards the horses. Soon, Allison’s waving arms were accompanied by a stifled gargle in her throat.
They dragged her nonetheless, leaving gouges in the ground as they went, hushing her with warning glances and fingers mashed against their lips.
Her protests lessened as they neared the horses and she was pushed up onto the back of her mare. She then abandoned the pursuit and took to haughty silence, but her eyes remained trained in the direction of the helpless creatures. She pointed to the floor, where split packages of food lay tangled around the horses’ hooves.
Norman climbed onto his own mount’s saddle and answered with shaking hands:
Leave it.
He took hold of his reins, ignoring the self-hatred that welled up in the pit of his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to rush back to the fallen and drag them to safety, but their supplies would do no good for so many mouths, and the people in the clearing were already past the point of no return.
He lingered a moment to close his eyes and take a breath, and then kicked at the horse’s sides. With a snort the steed burst from the tree line, racing out over the fields that bordered the cliff, with Lucian and Allie’s mounts thundering along behind.
The bags strapped to Norman’s saddle jostled, their contents threatening to bounce free and fall out of sight. Norman did his best to close those nearest to his hands, but had limited opportunity, snatching wild grabs only when the ground was even enough. He saw several pieces of fruit spiral away into the grass, each worth more than its weight in gold.
The wind streamed against his face as Lucian and Allie pulled up beside him. Once abreast one another, they hurried along the edge of the cliff. The ground ahead soon levelled and cleared of foliage, carpeted only by yellow grass cropped short by the stag’s former harem, which scattered in a blur of fur and hooves. It was getting late. Fading light was dancing on the waves near the horizon.
Looking left for a moment, Norman saw Lucian’s silver-haired figure bouncing atop his equally silver stallion. He was pointing behind them, bellowing something made incomprehensible by the whistling wind.
Norman looked over his shoulder. The forest beneath the tree line was dark and thrown out of focus by their galloping pace, but he could still see the black shapes amongst the shadows, edging out into the field.
The emaciated people were crawling in pursuit of their fleeing chance of salvation. From a distance it was difficult to make out any detail, but nonetheless Norman felt a chill run down his spine.
He cursed, turning to face the road ahead. He could feel Allie’s gaze burning into his temple, but didn’t dare look at her. Instead, he tugged on his reins and steered his mount until they rode parallel to a small stream, and headed home.
FIRST INTERLUDE
The day of the apocalypse started like any other: a lazy mid-June Tuesday in the late noughties that passed without incident until, at precisely 08.15 Greenwich Mean Time, the End struck.
There were no warnings or signs, nor was there hysteria or panic. The people of the world were waking in their beds, watching their favourite soaps, sitting in traffic, laughing, eating, or fast asleep. Perhaps for a single moment, as one, they felt an odd sensation in their bones and a chill in their lungs, coupled with a white-hot pain in their extremities.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough time for them to react before their bodies dissolved into vapour and they vanished from existence.
Then it was over. The disaster had come and gone, the clocks had stopped ticking, and the world was changed forever.
An instant later, upon the lawns of a backwater Cumbrian village, a
They dragged her nonetheless, leaving gouges in the ground as they went, hushing her with warning glances and fingers mashed against their lips.
Her protests lessened as they neared the horses and she was pushed up onto the back of her mare. She then abandoned the pursuit and took to haughty silence, but her eyes remained trained in the direction of the helpless creatures. She pointed to the floor, where split packages of food lay tangled around the horses’ hooves.
Norman climbed onto his own mount’s saddle and answered with shaking hands:
Leave it.
He took hold of his reins, ignoring the self-hatred that welled up in the pit of his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to rush back to the fallen and drag them to safety, but their supplies would do no good for so many mouths, and the people in the clearing were already past the point of no return.
He lingered a moment to close his eyes and take a breath, and then kicked at the horse’s sides. With a snort the steed burst from the tree line, racing out over the fields that bordered the cliff, with Lucian and Allie’s mounts thundering along behind.
The bags strapped to Norman’s saddle jostled, their contents threatening to bounce free and fall out of sight. Norman did his best to close those nearest to his hands, but had limited opportunity, snatching wild grabs only when the ground was even enough. He saw several pieces of fruit spiral away into the grass, each worth more than its weight in gold.
The wind streamed against his face as Lucian and Allie pulled up beside him. Once abreast one another, they hurried along the edge of the cliff. The ground ahead soon levelled and cleared of foliage, carpeted only by yellow grass cropped short by the stag’s former harem, which scattered in a blur of fur and hooves. It was getting late. Fading light was dancing on the waves near the horizon.
Looking left for a moment, Norman saw Lucian’s silver-haired figure bouncing atop his equally silver stallion. He was pointing behind them, bellowing something made incomprehensible by the whistling wind.
Norman looked over his shoulder. The forest beneath the tree line was dark and thrown out of focus by their galloping pace, but he could still see the black shapes amongst the shadows, edging out into the field.
The emaciated people were crawling in pursuit of their fleeing chance of salvation. From a distance it was difficult to make out any detail, but nonetheless Norman felt a chill run down his spine.
He cursed, turning to face the road ahead. He could feel Allie’s gaze burning into his temple, but didn’t dare look at her. Instead, he tugged on his reins and steered his mount until they rode parallel to a small stream, and headed home.
FIRST INTERLUDE
The day of the apocalypse started like any other: a lazy mid-June Tuesday in the late noughties that passed without incident until, at precisely 08.15 Greenwich Mean Time, the End struck.
There were no warnings or signs, nor was there hysteria or panic. The people of the world were waking in their beds, watching their favourite soaps, sitting in traffic, laughing, eating, or fast asleep. Perhaps for a single moment, as one, they felt an odd sensation in their bones and a chill in their lungs, coupled with a white-hot pain in their extremities.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough time for them to react before their bodies dissolved into vapour and they vanished from existence.
Then it was over. The disaster had come and gone, the clocks had stopped ticking, and the world was changed forever.
An instant later, upon the lawns of a backwater Cumbrian village, a
Similar Books
The Gentleman Has Left the Building
Lucy V. Morgan
Bella the Bunny
Lily Small
An Air That Kills
Andrew Taylor
Tell the Wolves I'm Home
Carol Rifka Brunt
More Than a Playboy
Monique DeVere
Jihad
Stephen Coonts
The Two of Us
Sheila Hancock
Bride of Dunloch (Highland Loyalties)
Veronica Bale
bedeviled & beyond 05 - bedeviled & besmirched
sam cheever