By William D. Carl
Underneath THE DIM gentle OF an entire MOON, insanity REIGNS. . . .
As evening descends on Cincinnati, town braces for hell in the world: The population mutates into large, snarling monsters that eat every body they see and act upon their such a lot base wishes. Planes fall from the sky. Highways are clogged with deserted automobiles, and structures explode and topple. town burns.
And whilst sunlight comes ultimately, an identical monsters go back to human shape, many pushed insane via atrocities devoted opposed to neighbors and households. . . .
Only 4 survivors are proof against the metamorphosis: a smooth-talking thief who lives by way of the code of the outdated West; a financial institution teller who's positioned her prior at the back of her; a prosperous, upset housewife; and a determined teenaged runaway. jointly they shape an not going quartet that needs to give you the chance to forestall the apocalypse prior to the following complete moon.
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The cramps in my legs and calves were getting worse. The blisters on my feet burst two days ago and the raw skin now rubbed against the synthetic leather of my broken down Tuned Air Max running shoes, aggravating the tender flesh. Soon the sores would be infected and I wouldn’t be able to run. I’d have to fight. But that was days away. Hopefully by then I’d be deep in the desert. Safe from the night things. I jogged up the freeway entrance ramp dodging in between cars. As soon as I hit the freeway I knew that this had been a bad idea.
Still, she had been prepared to settle for a reasonable facsimile. It had been the happiest moment of her life when she tried the dress on in front of the mirror. But that was before the darkness came. That was before the screams and the blood and the horrible sounds of ripping flesh and cracking bone. Lisa changed from Beethoven to a mournful nocturne from Wagner. Her face darkened as the terrible memories wormed their way in past the music. There had been no news flash warning them of the danger.
I yelled, loud enough for everyone to hear. ” Her strangled sobs were the only reply to my insensitivity. The agony of that heart, shattered, stomped, and immolated by my harsh words, echoed from deep within her. It was the sound of torture. The sound of utter hopelessness and despair. My own heart broke under the weight of that painful dirge but I still did not return to apologize or comfort her. I kept walking, silent in my shame and self-loathing. What had I done? It felt like I had just awaken from a dream to find that in my sleep I had drowned an infant or bashed open the head of a baby seal.