The Reapers Are the Angels: A Novel
Alden Bell
Language: English
Pages: 225
ISBN: 0805092439
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Zombies have infested a fallen America. A young girl named Temple is on the run. Haunted by her past and pursued by a killer, Temple is surrounded by death and danger, hoping to be set free.
For twenty-five years, civilization has survived in meager enclaves, guarded against a plague of the dead. Temple wanders this blighted landscape, keeping to herself and keeping her demons inside her heart. She can't remember a time before the zombies, but she does remember an old man who took her in and the younger brother she cared for until the tragedy that set her on a personal journey toward redemption. Moving back and forth between the insulated remnants of society and the brutal frontier beyond, Temple must decide where ultimately to make a home and find the salvation she seeks.
Nemesis (Resident Evil, Book 5)
Apocalypse of the Dead (Dead World, Book 2)
Alice in Zombieland (White Rabbit Chronicles, Book 1)
United States of the Dead (White Flag of the Dead, Book 4)
she can hear footsteps other than her own. Behind her or in front of her she can’t tell, but they stop when she stops to listen. A blind dark like this, she’s not doing any sneaking up, so she calls out. Whyn’t you come on out, whoever you are, and we’ll make a midnight constitutional together. Otherwise I might could hack you by accident. There is no response, and she looks back in the direction of the house. It is hidden behind the trees, but she can see the faint glow of it in the lower
souvenir of her time here. Truth be told, the inward gaze is something she’s not too fond of. But there are secrets that lurk in the mind, and she doesn’t want any of them sneaking up on her. Sometimes it pays to take a deep look inside even if you get queasy gazing into those dark corners. Back at the bottom, she goes out and shuts the door, pulling it closed tight behind her so the wind won’t blow it open and stir things around in there. It’s a warming thought to picture it staying the same
111, 1593. Well, here, take the map at least. He traces the route with a yellow marker and folds the map into a neat rectangle and gives it to her along with some sandwiches made by the woman who operates the diner and some clothes gathered up by the town’s welcoming committee. Later that night, Lee finds her sitting on a sidewalk bench near one of the barricades where two men sit in lawnchairs with big floodlights illuminating some meager distance of the night. He sits down next to her.
Miracle of the Fish. She tells the old woman these things while those ancient fingers work the clattering needles against each other, but Temple leaves her there in the outspreading shade—because the only common language between them is the argot of desolation, whose words are really just meant for the deafness of the wide, wide sky. PART III 13. The road south from Nacogdoches is clear and straight, leading them over flat and rough-hewn terrain. In the distance ahead, the horizon
than an instrument of violence. If you’re gonna shoot me, then shoot me, she says, challenging him with an instinctive boldness. Oh I’m gonna shoot you, little girl. I’m gonna shoot you right in the head. The sobriety of the words deflate her in an instant. He has no intention of letting her live. It’s a somber truth, even for him apparently. She leans back in the chair, resting the gurkha knife on her legs. There’s nothing for her to do but wait for his move. In the meantime, she wants to
