Free The Lingering Outbreak At Hope Cove by Ben Brown Page A

old man said quietly.
    The boy lowered his gun and looked towards him. “What?”
    “Make every shot count. We’re starting to run low on shot. If you’re to leave here with any ammunition for your journey, then every round must find its target.”
    The boy nodded solemnly, and then raised his gun again. He would not allow the knowledge of the failing ammunition to affect his aim. He decided to simply take his time and make every shot count.
    After half an hour, his father relieved him at the window. His son had taken down twenty creatures, missing only two.
    All that remained of the creatures’ vanguard were a handful banging at the door, and maybe another ten or so too badly maimed to move. Jonathan concentrated on the ones molesting the door. He eliminated the things below with ease. They were only about ten feet below, and it was like shooting fish in a barrel. He then looked out onto the field of death. He could shoot the maimed creatures, but it would be a waste of valuable ammunition. No, those creatures would need dealing with by hand.

Chapter 11
    The four of them felt exhausted, but they still had a little more work ahead of them before they could rest. They all now stood by the door to the mill. The barricade was gone, and now Jonathan and Alfred readied themselves to move outside. Jonathan held his tomahawk in one hand and his knife in the other. Alfred held an old and very rusty pitchfork.
    “Once Alfred and I are outside, relock the door,” Jon said as he looked at his son.
    “Sure, Pa. As soon as the door’s locked, Sally and me will head upstairs to cover you.”
    Jonathan nodded. “Good. Now are we all ready?”
    They all exchanged glances, and then Callum pulled open the door.
    The bodies of the creatures who had died attacking the door, came tumbling in through the opening and sprawled across the floor. Both Jonathan and Alfred readied themselves to kill any that might still be a threat, but all were well and truly dead.
    It took several minutes to clear the dead from the door, but finally the two headed outside to complete their grim task.
    The door slammed shut behind them as they moved out and into the field surrounding the mill. Jonathan felt a faint flutter of relief as he heard the door’s crossbar drop into place. His boy was safe once more.
    The pair worked their way through the bodies slowly and methodically. A mistake now could easily cost either of them their lives. Each time a ghoul needed killing, one would stand guard while the other took care of it with a blow to the head. More than once, Alfred’s pitchfork became stuck in a creature’s skull. Each time this happened, Jonathan would pass the old man his tomahawk so he could stand guard. Jonathan would then set about the task of pulling the fork free. He had to place one foot on the creature’s skull, and then pull with all his might. The fork would eventually pull free with a gruesome slurping noise, similar to the sound of a boot pulling free of mud. With each injured creature they met, the procedure started again.
    The only occasion that filled the men’s stomachs with bile, was when they found a child of maybe four years of age scrabbling in the dirt. The lower half of its torso was missing, but the top half still dragged itself towards them. Its intestines ran out behind it like the tentacles on a jellyfish, and it groaned hungrily as it worked its way painstakingly towards them.
    Alfred leaned on his pitchfork and vomited the contents of his stomach at his feet. He then hung his head and started to sob uncontrollably. The poor child’s appearance drove home the full horror of not only that day, but of what the world had to look forward to. A nightmare where children and adults alike lost all dignity.
    Jonathan moved to the old man’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll dispatch this one,” he said as he looked back at the poor creature.
    Jon moved to the child and knelt. He pushed one hand down on its