Autumn in the Forest

Autumn in the Forest

Thursday, March 2, 2017

"Keeping Watch"

Hopefully my time as an ill person is drawing to a close this week. To celebrate my third week of sickness, I have for you a last sneak peek of "Season of Madness," the second book of the Evershade series.

(Unedited excerpt.)

By early evening, every Walnut Keeper was safely tucked away in his or her burrow, and each barricade had been moved into place. Roan set a barrier at the base of the spiral stairs to prevent any of the infected from invading the Home Tree, should they be able to make it past the other spike traps or slip through a thin place in the underbrush.

When all was secure, he planted himself on a Corridor branch next to Splinter who offered to keep watch with him now that most cases of the Fever were under control.

“Long day,” she said simply as she leaned her head against Roan's shoulder.

He grunted his agreement and allowed his cheek to rest briefly on his wife’s head.

“Our day has just begun.”

“I know,” she replied. “And I'm happy to be spending it with you.”

Roan’s eyes softenend for a moment. “Little ones asleep?”

“Yes, just as I closed the door to come here.”

“Good. There are a lot of them tonight. Wouldn't do to have them stay up and watch,” Roan said grimly. “Might not be pretty.”

“I agree.” Splinter gazed out over the High Field.

The rustlings were scattered throughout the tall grasses, most made by small creatures, but some made by creatures that were clearly much larger. Roan gazed in the opposite direction at the meadow. It, too, was a sea of Madness. Infected stumbled through the dandelions and clover, jostling the plants that were overhanging the old rabbit trails and gathering trails he was sure they followed. A fight broke out somewhere in the darkness, followed by a single creature hobbling away.

“That took care of one,” Roan said.

“Just a thousand to go,” Splinter teased.

Roan peered down at the barricade close to the funeral path on the south side of the pond. A very fat vole staggered up to the spike trap and bumped into the thorns. An almost confused look crossed its face momentarily before it took a half-step back and attempted to walk forward again. The vole bumped into the thorns once more and pushed into them hard, but not enough to either injure himself or move the barricade.

“Seems to be working,” Roan observed.

Splinter yawned. “I'm glad. Perhaps the barricades will save some lives.”

“A few, but based on how many infected are out there, things are going to get a lot worse.”

Roan and Splinter fell into silence. They gazed into the darkening landscape, listening to the rustling grasses and the occasional garbled moans that drifted through the evening air. Neither of them wished to imagine how things could get worse.
 
 





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