Page 5 of Such a Feral Little Lamb
“Still some walking around?”
“Yeah.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, then wipes the sweat on his trousers. “I’ve never heard of a place being entirely empty when a team arrives. Even where there are survivors who’ve cleared some out, there’s usually one or two still hanging around.”
I nod, taking it in. Blake heads in our direction, Dane not too far behind. Rae points up the hill. A church looms up there above the town, spires dark and intimidating where they stretch up towards rain-swollen clouds. Rae says something to Autumn, gesturing with her hands.
I study the church and fight the shiver that wants to wrack my spine. It would be a good place to stay, provided it’s empty, but if not, we’d have to clear it, and it’s already early afternoon. Night will creep up on us soon, it being October, so it might be a better idea to head up there tomorrow.
“Anything?” Blake demands when he gets close.
His surly tone makes me want to bare my teeth, but instead, I swallow and sweep a hand at the door. “Just this.”
He frowns, taking it in the same way I did. Dane stares at me instead of the door. I jerk my gaze away.
“No signs of survivors so far,” Blake says doubtfully.
Dane shrugs. That hunger is alight again in his eyes, but at least it isn’t directed at me. “Might’ve been around years ago. Might’ve moved on a month ago.”
True. But this place is strange.Uncanny.I don’t like the way all the cobblestone streets snake here, to this centre, or the deep, dark shadows that shift just at the corner of my vision. Anything could be watching us.
“What do you think?” Dane asks as Rae and Autumn approach. “This is probably the best spot to set up.”
I look at the church again. The doors should be solid, though at this distance, I can’t see if they’re open or not. The roof is patchy, but zombies can’t climb.
The doors are likely locked. Who knows how long it would take us to get inside.
“This is as good a place as any.” Blake shoulders past me to get to the door of the butcher’s shop. We all know how to pick locks—it’s a fool’s errand to break down the best barrier between a hunter and a potential horde—but Blake is the fastest of us, and he has the door swinging open in a few minutes.
I tighten my grip on my bat. The door doesn’t make a sound as it opens into velvety darkness. I couldn’t hear any zombies inside before, but still…
It’s empty. The former shop front anyway. Cool air wafts out and I fancy I catch the scent of old meat, stale blood. It’s gone in a second, and I peer through the doorway as Blake steps inside. A thin layer of dust adorns the floor and counters, but otherwise it’s tidy. Empty.
Dane follows Blake inside and I shift over, leaning against the boarded-up window. I take in the square again. My skin prickles.I study the roofs that surround us, just in case a survivor is up there, but see no one.
“Weird, isn’t it?” Rae says softly.
Autumn looks between us, a puzzled frown pulling at her mouth, and Otto, just about to follow Dane and Blake into the shop, nods once.
“Weird,” I echo.
“I saw some stragglers on the way in,” she continues, “but it must’ve been fifty miles out. After that, I figured they weren’t making their way through the fields.”
“Same.”
Dane comes back out and squints in the sunlight. His attitude is more amiable now that the job has begun, but it won’t last. Already, tension is tightening the faint lines around his eyes.
“Blake and Otto are checking upstairs. Looks like that door’s reinforced too, so it should be safe enough for tonight. We’ll cover the square and a couple of these streets before it gets dark, then head up to the church tomorrow.”
“It’ll be a good vantage point,” Rae agrees begrudgingly.
“That’s what I was thinking.”
They continue talking—devising plans, dancing around the fact that this place is off-kilter in a way no other town we’ve cleared out has ever been—and I tune them out. Point me in the direction of a zombie, and I’ll do what I’m made to.
A shift in shadows on the opposite side of the square catches my attention. I trace what I can see of the winding cobblestone path with my eyes. It leads up to the church, I suspect, and there—
The shadow moves again. Flexes, rippling deeper for a brief moment. I push off from the shop front. A zombie?
Zombies don’t hide like that, though. It should already be shuffling into view. Hell, with how quiet it is here, we should all be able tohearit.
