By David Moody
Every little thing that implies something to you is taken away in seconds. No caution. No clarification. Nothing.
AUTUMN: the town is the 1st sequel to the acclaimed loose horror novel AUTUMN.
a deadly disease rips around the face of the planet, killing billions of individuals in below twenty-four hours. A small workforce of survivors cower in worry within the desolate is still of a silent urban. because the complete volume of the devastation because of the affliction is printed the determined humans struggle to maintain hundreds of thousands upon millions of plague sufferers at bay and to proceed to outlive from each day. they try to stick alive.
The unforeseen visual appeal of a firm of infantrymen back threatens the survivor's fragile life. Do they belief this surprising army presence? Will the army carry them wish and solutions, or simply extra worry, discomfort and destruction?
way over a normal sequel, AUTUMN: town expands at the nightmare of the 1st novel and takes the reader toward learning what prompted the loss of life of billions of individuals on a unmarried inauspicious September day.
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Additional resources for Autumn: The City
He’d known all along that going outside was inevitable, but he’d done all that he could to prevent it from happening for as long as possible. Now he knew he had no choice but to leave. Paul waited until the world was dark before venturing out. He figured that the darkness should offer him some protection from the wandering bodies that he had watched staggering aimlessly up and down the desolate streets outside. He knew that in their present state they didn’t seem to actually pose a threat to him, but the additional camouflage that the blackness of the night provided brought him some welcome comfort and reassurance.
Most of it, however, had either burned away or melted into the twisted, blackened flesh. But somehow it kept moving. Ignorant to the damage and deformation it had suffered and oblivious to any pain or shock it should have felt, the bloody thing just kept on moving. Its eyes were burned out empty sockets and it had no coordination but still it kept on dragging itself forward, clumsily crashing into walls, parked cars and other obstructions. It had been the smell more than anything that had tipped Jack over the edge.
It was a natural reaction but thinking didn’t seem to help anyone. There were no easy answers and, even worse than the frustration of not being able to understand, thinking inevitably turned into remembering. And remembering hurt.