The Resurrected Two
And Then the Infection
Mystery & Suspense, Espionage, Fiction & Literature, Horror, Science Fiction & Fantasy
| Author: | Megan Hart | ISBN: | 9781940078618 |
| Publisher: | Chaos Publishing | Publication: | October 13, 2018 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Megan Hart |
| ISBN: | 9781940078618 |
| Publisher: | Chaos Publishing |
| Publication: | October 13, 2018 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
The Resurrected Trilogy continues...
When a series of freak storms sweep across the world, they leave behind something more than devastation. First come the swift-growing flowers, smelling like heaven and dying as quickly as they bloom. Next comes the infestation as the flowers breed and multiply inside their hosts. After that, chaos, mayhem and death.And after that...resurrection.
Excerpt:
Asphalt had bitten her feet to the bone.
She had walked and walked and walked, each step at first deliberate and steady and becoming shuffling and uncertain the farther she went. She had crossed this distance once already in the opposite direction, though the memory of that, like the memory of most things, was nothing but a faded blur.
There was no pain.
Now, sand gritted into her bloodless wounds and ground the bones of her toes to dust. A gull, black eyes glittering, swooped at her head to pluck at the tips of her ears, the soft lump that had been her nose. When it went for her one remaining eye, she grabbed it by the throat and tore off the top of its head, then tossed the corpse aside where its brothers and sisters squawked and fought over it; where a thing like her but without the use of its legs pulled itself toward the flock of quarreling birds to snatch them up with broken fingers and cram them in its unhinged mouth.
If she had a name it was as lost to her as everything else. If she forced her thoughts into coherence, a victory she was less and less able to claim, she could recall the sound of small voices calling her “Mama,” but surely that was not her name. Her fingers twitched at the feeling of tiny hands in hers, but her hands were empty.
She did not bleed, because her heart had stopped pumping. Her lungs moved sometimes out of habit, and breath slipped in and out of the gaping slash in her throat where the edge of a shovel had hit her. She didn’t need to breathe, and many times forgot. When she remembered, the air whistled as she drew it in and let it out, and the fringes of her skin fluttered like lace.
Curtains.
Lace curtains.
The breeze blows lace curtains against an open window. Outside, the hum of a mower as her husband cuts the grass. Her children play, shouting and laughing.
Screaming.
Her children are screaming.
The Resurrected (Two): And Then the Infection was originally published in serial format as The Resurrected Parts 5-8, as well as in the collection The Resurrected Compendium.
The Resurrected Trilogy continues...
When a series of freak storms sweep across the world, they leave behind something more than devastation. First come the swift-growing flowers, smelling like heaven and dying as quickly as they bloom. Next comes the infestation as the flowers breed and multiply inside their hosts. After that, chaos, mayhem and death.And after that...resurrection.
Excerpt:
Asphalt had bitten her feet to the bone.
She had walked and walked and walked, each step at first deliberate and steady and becoming shuffling and uncertain the farther she went. She had crossed this distance once already in the opposite direction, though the memory of that, like the memory of most things, was nothing but a faded blur.
There was no pain.
Now, sand gritted into her bloodless wounds and ground the bones of her toes to dust. A gull, black eyes glittering, swooped at her head to pluck at the tips of her ears, the soft lump that had been her nose. When it went for her one remaining eye, she grabbed it by the throat and tore off the top of its head, then tossed the corpse aside where its brothers and sisters squawked and fought over it; where a thing like her but without the use of its legs pulled itself toward the flock of quarreling birds to snatch them up with broken fingers and cram them in its unhinged mouth.
If she had a name it was as lost to her as everything else. If she forced her thoughts into coherence, a victory she was less and less able to claim, she could recall the sound of small voices calling her “Mama,” but surely that was not her name. Her fingers twitched at the feeling of tiny hands in hers, but her hands were empty.
She did not bleed, because her heart had stopped pumping. Her lungs moved sometimes out of habit, and breath slipped in and out of the gaping slash in her throat where the edge of a shovel had hit her. She didn’t need to breathe, and many times forgot. When she remembered, the air whistled as she drew it in and let it out, and the fringes of her skin fluttered like lace.
Curtains.
Lace curtains.
The breeze blows lace curtains against an open window. Outside, the hum of a mower as her husband cuts the grass. Her children play, shouting and laughing.
Screaming.
Her children are screaming.
The Resurrected (Two): And Then the Infection was originally published in serial format as The Resurrected Parts 5-8, as well as in the collection The Resurrected Compendium.
