By Matthew Smith
London is now a urban overrun through the zombie hordes. lots of the human survivors reside from everyday, scraping jointly an life one of the ruins, heading off the shambling, flesh-hungry undead that also stalk the streets. yet for others this grotesque state of affairs is a chance, an opportunity to set up an influence base in the capital, now that authority has collapsed. For gang lord Harry flora, the plague is his likelihood to eventually rule the town unopposed. working out of his well-protected mansion on London's outskirts, plants sees an opportunity to exploit the zombies and the havoc they wreak for his personal ends. the way in which he sees it, the ghouls aren't going to be round endlessly, and while he re-establishes a functioning society, it's going to be on his personal phrases. All he wishes is how to keep an eye on the lifeless. yet plant life isn't the just one with designs at the city...
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Additional resources for The Words of Their Roaring (Tomes of the Dead)
Donna pushed open the heavy swinging door and stood and stared in petrified disbelief. Neil Peters - the man she had watched fall and die in front of her just two days earlier - was moving. Swaying unsteadily on clumsy, uncoordinated feet and stumbling about lethargically, the dead man dragged himself across the room, stopping and turning awkwardly whenever he hit the wall or a desk or other obstruction and was unable to move any further forward. Instinctively Donna reached out and grabbed hold of him.
Regardless of what happened to the rest of the building, therefore, power to the locks remained constant, and that meant that she was able to securely shut out the rest of the world until she was ready to face it again. The advantage may only have been a psychological one but it was enough. During the first few long hours of the nightmare that extra layer of security meant everything to her. Much of the rest of the first day had been spent collecting various supplies, initially from around the office and then, later, from several of the silent shops nearby.
Once or twice he cleared his throat, ready to shout out for help, but at the last moment his nerve had gone and he had decided against it. Much as he wanted to attract the attention of anyone who had survived, he was desperate not to attract the attention of anything else. And despite the fact that there didn’t seem to be anything else left to attract, he didn’t have the balls to take the chance. It all boiled down to the fact that he was scared. No, he wasn’t just scared, he was damn terrified.
The Words of Their Roaring (Tomes of the Dead) by Matthew Smith