They wandered the wasteland through ruined counties and barren states asking the same question again and again. “We prayed, we were righteous and God was on our side so how did we lose the war?”
“We can’t go back down, the wolves are waiting there!” she cried.
“Well that other thing is waiting up there!” he spat back.
They had been hearing sounds outside the caravan for over an hour: whispers; muffled footsteps; a snort; metallic scraping; and now the door handle was moving. “Why the hell did I let you talk me into stopping here,” she hissed, “I told you that Free Overnight Parking sign looked dodgy.”
He shook free from the clutches of a hellish dream – suffocation, confined in the darkness of a slime-soaked tunnel. Reality was worse – the silken walls of a coffin and six feet of moist, stony soil.
Frantic knocking at 2:45am is never a good sign, thought Albert as he glanced at his bedside clock. He hustled downstairs and opened the door to a very unexpected Valentine and the last thing he saw – a young boy armed with a bow.