Free Soul Survivor: A gripping tale of the living, the dead, and the struggle to survive in an apocalyptic world. by Arthur M Wyatt

of the darkness and came at him. He let out a scream of his own as he swung the crow bar and ducked just as it went over his head and out into the night. He could hear the sound of its wings as it receded into the distance. Hooting as it went.
    Completely frightened out of his wits now he lay on the ground trying to catch his breath and calm down. Finally he got to his feet and scanned the barn with his flashlight looking for more surprises. There were none.
    The interior of the barn was open in the front half with four stalls on each side in the back. Double doors like the doors he just entered were on the other side of the barn. The doors were closed and the locking bar was in place. A loft covered half of the barn and had a permanent wood ladder off to the left side. On the far end of the loft were double swinging wood doors. The door on the right had a broken hinge and rested on the loft floor. There was a rope and pulley system for raising bales of hay attached to a beam that jutted out three feet over the opening.
    There were different kinds of farm equipment scattered around the barn. Scythes, rope, empty coffee cans, bridles and items he couldn’t identify.
    Slowly he climbed the ladder. Once near the top he raised the flashlight and looked around. Nothing. Just bales of hay. He went back down, retrieved his bag from outside then closed the doors and put the locking bar in place.
    John decided to spend the night in the loft. From his bag he took the hunting knife and twine. Gathering several of the empty coffee cans, he drilled holes in them with the knife and tied them together. He then tied them to the ladder leading to the loft. The ladder would be the only way anyone or anything could get to him, so if something attempted to climb up, the cans would rattle and wake him. He hoped.
     
    Putting the knife and twine back into the bag he gathered his things and climbed the ladder. Once at the top he laid his blanket out near the open loft door. He decided to leave the door open. He wanted to hear if something approached. As a precaution he pulled up the rope and tied it off to the beam.
    Exhausted, he settled in to try and sleep. As he lay there the events of the past couple of days played over and over in his mind.   
    -Finish reading “ The Demon Dead ” on kindle or in print at amazon.com
     
     
    Arthur M Wyatt is An ex U.S. Navy Seabee, Writer, Musician and Painter. He lives in upstate South Carolina with his daughter, black lab, one miniature schnauzer, six guitars featuring an American Fender Stratocaster, 1000 book personal library, vast collection of Heavy Metal, Progressive Metal, Jazz, Blues and Big Band music, two Fantasy Football Superbowl Trophies and a 1994 Ford F-150 with over 300,000 miles. He flies the American flag year round.
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