Free Dead Frost - 02 by Adam Millard

was on the verge of actually
bowing, as if he had just finished a masterful stage performance on
Broadway.
    He made his way
down and out through the doors, survivors patting him on the back as
he went. Once out of earshot, he turned to David Moon and said, 'Is
the pilot ready?'
    Moon nodded.
'Yeah, but he ain't in the best fucking mood about all of this.'
    'Ahhh, I don't give
a shit whether he's crying his eyes up. Get him onto the roof, and
tell Randall to load the weapons.'
    Moon nodded and
raced off up the stairs. Victor approached another of his men, Henry
Colburn, and pushed his face as close as possible without touching
him.
    'If that old trout
were to cease breathing while we're gone,' he said, 'then I think a
promotion would be the order of the day.'
    Colburn thought for
a moment before a grin crept onto his face. 'I sure wouldn't mind
that, at all,' he said.
    'Gooooood,' Victor
grinned. 'I'm leaving you in charge for the next few days; I don;t
think it should be too much of a problem, not with a man of your
tenacity.'
    Colburn didn't know
what that word meant, but assumed it was something good. 'Everything
will be just as you left it,' he said. 'Apart from one thing.'
    Victor laughed,
knowing that Colburn meant it and would not let him down.
    'Time to go get my
fucking Jeep back.'

    TWELVE

    The morning
hadn't come quick enough, as far as she was concerned. The snow must
have started soon after she had arrived back at the house, though,
and she hadn't been able to see out of the windows due to the panels
that had been hammered haphazardly over them. She was shocked,
therefore, to discover at least six inches of white powder as she
left the house.
    It was nice.
    It would have
been a helluva lot nicer if the undead weren't returning with a taste
for human flesh, but you couldn't have everything your own way, could
you?
    She left the
house with more layers than she needed. It was better that way.
There was always the option to remove a layer, whereas she would be
fucked if the temperature plummeted even more.
    She headed
across the field and into the town, knowing that the creatures would
probably be around at some point. The difference now was: She could
see them properly. It was easier evading them – or hunting
them – when the sun was up, and the snow made it even easier as
she would hear their footfall before she would even spot them.
    She had a
problem, though.
    The house was no
longer somewhere she felt safe; she wanted more, something bigger, a
place where there was more than just a window and a plank of MDF
separating them from her. There seemed to be a lot more of them
hovering around the field after dark, and she had no idea why.
    It was only a
matter of time before they began to go to work on the windows and
doors; her sanctuary was no longer invulnerable. Add to that the
fact that there was no heating – and the snowfall had made her
wonder just how cold it was going to get in the following weeks –
and she knew she had to find somewhere new to hold out.
    Trudging through
the snow with just a tiny backpack, she reached the outskirts of town
feeling quite refreshed. Apparently, a bean supper washed down with
strawberry-flavoured water did wonders to the system. She felt like
she could run, perhaps for the first time in days.
    She just hoped
that it wouldn't be necessary.
    After a quick
break and a sip of water – normal, tasteless water – she
pushed on, following the signs at every junction.
    The snow was
falling heavy, once again, and she remembered the Christmases past
when things had been normal – or at least a little bit more
regular – and the snow had fallen outside the window. She
pushed the memories away, though, as she came across a large
building.
    Surrounded by a
black, wrought-iron fence on all sides, it looked to be the kind of
place where British Royalty might visit. The golden finials sitting
atop the gate added to the regal look. She stared down the long,
winding driveway, trying