Zombies! The Fall of London
Page 8
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“Are you sure this is quite safe?” Franklin muttered, huffing, hesitating at the gates of a small charnel house. “Or even advisable?”
“Keep your voice down and think about it for once.” Grumbled Parry, disliking the fresh sweat that clung to him after an hour’s exertion evading Satan’s emissaries. When, John looked blank, he sighed exasperatedly, pushing the creaking, swinging gate closed behind them.
“Think, John. If the plague reanimates the dead then a Churchyard is going to be the safest to cross.” How does Mister Barrow’s private nickname go, he searched his memory thinking it entirely suited to his nervous, clinging friend. That dunderhead who ate his boots...aha! Yes, that was it.
“Because of the Church? Although there were unmentionables in that Church.”
“No! Because the graves will be empty!” William hissed, not watching where he was going and sinking past ankle deep into soft...strangely squishy ground. It wasn’t until the sound of ground breaking, moldering fingers protruding from the nearest plots that he glanced down to see skeletal fingers wrapped in a death grip around his ankle that he realized they’d cut across Potter’s Field.
“This just keeps getting better and better...” he muttered grimly as Franklin started shrieking like a little girl.