McGrigor was sitting in a doorway when they found him. They’d jumped on him, hugged him, held him as a friend. He hadn’t really believed The Preacher, but he had no better idea and nowhere else to go. There’d been seven of them originally, but they’d lost three on the way – one before they even left the city – and now there were only two. Possibly the last man and woman on Earth, Adam and Eve in reverse, soon to leave this planet with nothing but animals and plants.
As dawn came they sat on opposite sides of the front room. McGrigor had let the broken bottle fall, but kept a firm grip on the whisky laden one. The Woman looked as if she was in a trance, her eyes open but nothing there.
McGrigor stood slowly and took a swig of booze. He glanced at The Woman, and then cautiously opened the kitchen door.
There it was, right outside the broken windows, a green/white twisted version of a human skeleton. He stared at it, examining the skull, trying to make out something of The Preacher, a sign it had once been a man. It was clearly based on man, but distorted. The agonies of death had stretched and bent and elongated the skull, so it was now impossible to place a human face on top of it – even if you knew what that face had looked like.
The only humanity was the eyes, the same eyes that had been there when it wore an overcoat of flesh. Now they shone in pain and agony, in astonishment at what had happened, even though they knew it was coming. They were The Preacher’s eyes, but they weren’t. No one’s eyes really look like that except in the throes of torture. Before long the whites would turn green, and then other similar flowers would grow across the bones – green and blue, green and brown, green and green – the fruit of this unusual plant.
McGrigor bolted the kitchen door and sat opposite The Woman – Linda. They stared at each other across the cold floor.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“You sure?”
Her shake was more of a tremble this time, but still adamant.
“You should,” he said. “It’s good for you.”
He watched her, her hand still clutching her injured leg, her eyes still weepy. He’d never seen them anything other than tearful. When he first saw her, she already looked like she couldn’t walk from sobbing.
“What have you lost?” she asked.
“What have I lost?” he said. “The usual, a few people, a few things – what would basically constitute my life. How about you?”
“My parents,” she said.
“Yeah, I lost my parents too. At least I think I did. They live a long way from here and one day they didn’t pick up the phone. By that point it was just too far to travel, so I had to assume I’d lost them. In a way that’s more comforting, as there’s always that small chance they might still be there.”
“I lost my brother,” she said.
“I think I lost my sister. She lived near my parents. Did you see yours?”
She nodded.
“Sorry.”
“I lost all my friends.”
“I lost both of mine.” He smiled. She didn’t acknowledge it.
“Did you lose a partner?” she asked.
“I lost my girlfriend. We were in the process of breaking up. It had all got very unpleasant and then this happened. Kind of put what went before into context. I don’t regret what I said to her. A lot of it she deserved. I just wish we’d both had that time to move on. You know, that period where you try to meet someone else and the break up doesn’t look so bad anymore. How about you? Did you lose a boyfriend, husband, some dashing fiancée?”
She shook her head.
He took another bolt of whisky.
“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” she said.
“We were always going to die,” he said. “We just weren’t going to die like this.”
“It’s so horrible,” she sniffed. “I’m going to die alone.”
He laughed. “We’re both going to die alone.”
“I just feel so ill,” she sobbed. “I feel so sick and tired. I feel thirsty.”
“Do you want that drink?”
“Yes please.”
She raised her hand from her ankle and the wound was red and green.
He stared at it.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s too late.”
He shot across the floor, grabbed her arm and yanked her up. She offered no resistance. He opened the bedroom door and hurled her in. She screamed as she landed, looking at him with hurt and confused eyes. Eyes like flowers. He shut the door and bolted it tight.
She was infected – they were both infected – but she wasn’t far off, and he didn’t want to sit with her as she turned. She used up her last dregs of strength throwing her weight against the door. She screamed, she begged, she pleaded – and then she stopped, the only sound he heard was soft weeping.
There were the windows, of course. They were all broken, but she’d seen him with the bottle and he didn’t reckon she was any more foolhardy than The Preacher. He guessed she’d stay where she was, and he’d stay where he was.
He took another drink. Back in the city he’d noticed how the alcoholics were more resilient to this infection. The drunks in the bars and the winos on the street corners all seemed to be the last to go. There must be something in alcohol that suppressed it, kept it under control. It was only when they ran out of booze that it happened.
He had nine bottles left. Maybe seven days drinking. What was he going to do when he ran out? He knew he’d made a mistake following The Preacher – but despite his cynicism, part of him had believed The Preacher’s sermon, had hoped there’d be a new lease of life higher up. He now knew how wrong he was. His future lay back in the city, near a bar, a pub; maybe with some like-minded dipsos who’d also figured it out.
But what was he going to find if he went back? Would he be the only one, would he wander familiar streets alone, staring at green eyes to try and find old friends? Maybe it was better to accept his fate up here, maybe it would be simpler to find the highest point and throw himself off. He didn’t know what to do – drink himself alive or drink himself to death. He had nine bottles left. He took another swig and thought he’d decide in a day or two.
A plea from the author
If you enjoyed Foliage, could you please take the time to leave a short review of it on Amazon?
Reviews are the lifeblood of an indie author. They make the difference between scrabbling along and actually making a living out of our writing. So, if you’re able to find the time to leave your thoughts on Foliage – or any of my other Ghostly Shadows tales, long or short – then I would be tremendously grateful.
Kind regards,
FRJ.
The Ghostly Shadow series!
Check out the others today!
Nothing was going to ruin Castle's holiday, except the mocking laughter of the dead...
Larry Castle was anticipating a lovely few days at the seaside. Basking in the sunshine, canoodling with his mistress and playing the big man visiting town. However, a chance encounter leaves his confidence reeling.
There’s a possibility that someone knows his darkest secret. The thing that made him, but which could equally break him. No matter what, Castle is going to have to deal with this problem. Otherwise it could cost him everything.
This weekend Castle is going to confront the ghosts of his past, but some ghosts are more real than others…
Death at the Seaside – a gripping new supernatural thriller which could chill on even the most uncomfortably hot day.
The first of the F.R. Jameson’s Ghostly Shadows series.
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What are those voices from the past? And why are they screaming at her?
It all started when she witnessed a car crash. A brutal smash which left a gorgeous young couple dead. But for Alice, it reawakened strange memories of childhood: a sinister old house, a dead boy in the woods and an other-worldly power lurking forever in the darkness.
Desperate to mak
e sense of the bizarre pictures in her mind, Alice’s enquires lead her to a hidden away clinic in the Surrey Hills. Within those walls though, are the terrifying secrets she’s been running from her whole life.
Now, for Alice, the truth could not only break apart her sanity, it could destroy the whole world…
Certain Danger – A brand new British horror tale perfect for all fans of James Herbert, Clive Barker, Iain Rob Wright and Hammer/Amicus films of the 1970s.
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The actress might be dead, but her voice keeps singing to him…
Something about that murdered woman got to the detective. She was a missing person he was tracing – a young starlet – but by the time he found her, she was a bloated corpse on a dockside. One moonless night she’d been beaten, strangled and dumped in the Thames.
Her gangster boyfriend thinks he’s got away with murder, but the detective is coming for him. The need for revenge burning at his soul. He might look like an average man, but there’s a new force within him – one that craves bloody vengeance…
Every night her song gets louder in his ears, but what will happen when its power is truly unleashed?
Won’t You Come and Save Me, Oh Soldier – A brand new British horror tale perfect for all fans of James Herbert, Clive Barker, Iain Rob Wright and Dennis Wheatley.
Pre-order your copy today!
What terrible secrets are the town’s women hiding?
Beddnic, on the South Wales coast, has shut itself off from the outside world. Days after a number of its men were reported missing, the road in was closed and all communications ceased. No strangers are welcome there anymore.
Now, two agents – Ludo and Mick – are venturing across the water, anxious to know what’s going on and desperate to help. And no amount of threats or horrors will make them turn back. The awful curse which has befallen this town is about to be revealed, and the dead shall walk…
But in this cruel place by the sea, will these two men really be able to help?
Call of the Mandrake – A brand new British horror tale perfect for all fans of Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, James Herbert and the adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
The fourth of F.R. Jameson’s Ghostly Shadows series.
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Ghostly Shadows Shorts
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Sacrifice at St. Nick’s
His grave was screaming out to her!
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The Screen Siren Noir series
He's been threatened, beaten and broken - but still he doesn't regret meeting the actress who disappeared...
Michael, a young film journalist, is sent to interview the reclusive movie star Diana Christmas. Twenty years prior, the red-headed starlet suddenly abandoned her career, leaving her fans puzzled and shocked.
Their attraction is instant. Between the sheets, Diana tells him of the blackmail and betrayal which ruined her. And how – even now – she’s being tormented.
Emboldened, Michael sets out on a mission to track down a compromising roll of film – unaware that around the next corner lurks deadly peril.
Can Michael save Diana from her past? Or will the secrets which crushed her life destroy them both?
Diana Christmas: Blackmail, Death and a British Film Star – a new thriller of desire and betrayal from F.R. Jameson.
The first in the Screen Siren Noir series.
Available now!
Avenging her secret could put a noose around both their necks…
Joe might be a stuntman, but still he’d never expect to end up in bed with a genuine movie star. However, that’s what happens the night he meets the ultra-glamorous, Eden St. Michel. Swiftly they’re the talk of the town. Their passion fast, intense and dangerous.
But Eden has scars from her past, both mental and physical. Joe needs to be her hero, although retribution won’t be easy. One misstep could mean the end of their careers and – maybe – their lives.
After a sudden moment of violence, Joe finds himself in deadly trouble. He may have the love of a good woman, yet it’s leading him to the gallows.
But what if the only way to save Eden is to make that ultimate sacrifice?
Eden St. Michel: Scandal, Death and a British Film Star – a new tale of film stars, gangsters and death from F.R. Jameson.
The second book in the ‘Screen Siren Noir’ series.
Available now!
Theirs is an affair destined to end in murder!
Thomas had never met a woman like Alice Rackham. A film-star: sophisticated and uninhibited. Not only is their passion intense, but she could help this impoverished young actor with his own career. Surely it doesn’t really matter that she has danger written all over her…
As he isn’t the only one smitten with Alice: her ex-lover skulks ceaselessly outside her home and keeps a former policeman on retainer. A giant of a man who would relish making both their lives torture.
With Thomas rattled, Alice suggests a relaxing trip to an English country house. But trouble isn’t just going to follow them out there, it’s about to turn deadly.
Can Thomas save Alice from her past? Or will it destroy them both?
Alice Rackham: Obsession, Death and a British Film Star - a new thriller of passion, jealousy and suspense from F.R. Jameson.
The third novel in the Screen Siren Noir series.
Available now!
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His friend has been murdered, but he can't be responsible... Can he?
Clay has arrived back in London and rekindled the spark with Belinda, his flame-haired ex. However, one night he suffers a terrible nightmare. He dreams that he brutally murders one of his best friends.
The next morning – horrifically – he learns that said friend has indeed been slaughtered.
His dreams continue and each dawn there’s another fresh body. Desperate, Clay and Belinda investigate. Each horribly aware that Clay himself is the number one suspect!
Will he discover the terrifying truth? And can he do it before his next gruesome nightmare?
The Wannabes
F.R. Jameson’s debut novel – a supernatural thriller of ambition, lust and death – is available free and exclusive today!
About the author
F.R. Jameson was born in Wales, but now lives with his wife and daughter in London. He writes thrillers; sometimes of the supernatural variety, and sometimes historical, set around the British film industry.
His debut novel, The Wannabes, which contains both horror and British actresses is available for free now. Get your copy here!
He has a regularly updated blog (https://frjameson.com/) where he puts book reviews, film reviews and the occasional writing diary, and you can also find him on Facebook, and follow him on Twitter, Instagram and Pinterest: @frjameson.
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