DAY ONE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN
NEW YEAR’S EVE
They woke up to several inches of snow. The wintery world had looked strange yesterday, but it looked positively beautiful today. The thicker covering had obscured almost every detail outside, completely erasing, for the moment, every evidence of destruction and decay. A handful of cadavers had, by chance, discovered the group’s pub hideout and had made an advance towards it, but the worsening cold had stopped them. Now they stood in the carpark, converging on the building like a gang, all of them frozen mid-step. Snow covered and unable to move, they were like grotesque Christmas decorations, something left for them by Krampus.
Joanne reluctantly sat up, not wanting to get out from under the covers. Sam handed her a mug of coffee and some foo
