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    A Cold Breath
    A Cold Breath
    A Cold Breath
    Ebook103 pages1 hour

    A Cold Breath

    By Elizabeth Monvey

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    About this ebook

    The world has changed. Almost two years after the zombie plague destroyed civilization, the last of mankind is trying to hold on. Remy lives with his father inside the walls of a safe haven, until the night they're attacked by a swarm of walking dead. But when help arrives, he's horrified to discover the haven has been targeted to be destroyed—infected or not.

    Atticus left his home when his lover was bit. Mourning the loss, he looks for something to keep him going. To not give up. He may have stumbled into the wrong group, but he can’t hurt innocents.

    They find each other in the middle of an apocalypse, and although Remy might be wary of the handsome loner, he realizes Atticus might just be the person he needs to stay safe.

    If only he didn’t feel so attracted to the man.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherEvernight Publishing
    Release dateJan 3, 2019
    ISBN9781773398686
    A Cold Breath

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      Book preview

      A Cold Breath - Elizabeth Monvey

      Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

      www.evernightpublishing.com

      Copyright© 2018 Elizabeth Monvey

      ISBN: 978-1-77339-868-6

      Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

      Editor: Lisa Petrocelli

      ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

      WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

      This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      DEDICATION

      Thank you to Stacey and everyone at Evernight, for allowing me to do what I love to do: write and bring stories to life. And thanks to all the readers who want to read those stories.

      A COLD BREATH

      Elizabeth Monvey

      Copyright © 2018

      Prologue

      Atticus stared through his binoculars at the large encampment, where a dozen or so men stood as sentinels around the perimeter. Poised for any zombie swarm, more than likely they were ready for the real threat, namely marauders and gangs. Anarchy always brought out the worst in people, and many decided the apocalypse the perfect catalyst to throw off any form of civility. Time and time again, he’d seen the destruction left behind, not from the zombies, but from the damn outlaws roaming the ruined countryside.

      Not wanting to be lumped in with those bandits and have bullets greeting him, he held up a white flag and waved it, knowing that the motion would be caught quickly by the watchers standing guard. When he got an answering wave, he threw the binoculars and flag into his ATV and headed over the sandy terrain to the fort. He bypassed the cheval de frise, which helped the defense perimeter. And if the long pointy spikes weren’t good enough to snag the walking dead, the moat filled with pikes stood ready for the stragglers.

      A gate opened and he was waved inside, although a cautious welcoming party waited with hands on the butt of their guns. Atticus made sure to keep his hands on the steering wheel, well above the visual line to show he meant no trouble. Hell, even if he tried to pull some type of stunt, he’d be dead in seconds.

      Howdy, stranger, greeted an older man, who had more hair on the lower half of his face than he did on his head. Name’s Vitto.

      Hello Atticus replied. I’m Atticus.

      Lost?

      Atticus shook his head. Wandering. Saw your encampment.

      We’re plague scouts, Vitto said. We’re making sure this disease isn’t spreading.

      That sounds interesting. You needing some men?

      Vitto scratched his beard, looked his ATV over, then glanced behind him to a tall, beefy man who had a scar crisscrossing over his face. What‘cha think, Drake? You think Atticus could fit in?

      Drake narrowed his eyes. You know how to kill what’s already dead?

      The hair on the back of Atticus’s neck stood up, warning him, and he took heed of his instincts. This was a man he shouldn’t turn his back on. You don’t survive this long without knowing how to put them down.

      Military? Vitto asked.

      Once upon a time, Atticus said. Been nomadic for the past year or so, I think. I’ve kinda forgotten the date.

      Well, Atticus, Vitto said. We’re actually mounting up for a ride. One of our sentinels spotted a swarm on the northwest perimeter. Want to tag along?

      Atticus stared at Drake for an extra heartbeat before shifting over to Vitto. Something seemed off, a nagging sense that he shouldn’t really trust either man, but he needed something to break the monotony his life had become, so he nodded.

      Great, Vitto said, smiling, although the humor never reached his emotionless eyes. Drake here can get you geared up.

      I’ve already got my gear, Atticus replied steady. And I trust it.

      Vitto held up a hand. Say no more, I completely understand. A good weapon is hard to find. Still, it’s good to take inventory.

      Drake waited for him, and looking around, the barrels pointed in his direction made him realize he wasn’t in much of a position to decline. Reluctantly he followed after Drake, wishing he could get the fuck out of there. He definitely picked the wrong goddamn place to seek out some company.

      And this is why I prefer to be on my own!

      Chapter One

      No, Remy, move that box over there.

      Remy blew the hair out of his eyes and hefted the wooden box over to where his father, Arnie, wanted it, under the blue tarp and out of direct sunlight.

      How many bags of potatoes do we have left? Arnie asked.

      Remy glanced into the box. Three.

      Arnie nodded. Whatever we don’t sell today we’ll have to eat. We can’t let it go to waste.

      Remy sighed and glanced out at the market, seeing only a few lingering souls left. The haven walls kept out almost everyone, and to enter one must prove to be disease free. In the past two years since the virus devastated the world, pockets of humanity lived behind barricades with walls so high only daylight and the moon could be seen. They all traded with each other, so finding a different line of work wasn’t really in the near future. The market would close soon, and those who bargained to stay for the night would rise tomorrow and go out to find more material in the Out-of-Bounds, lands that had been quarantined early in the apocalypse, to trade for food shelter.

      It was a monotonous existence that Remy found soul-sucking. Every day he tried to remember what life had been like before, when he had a normal job and a normal life, but the memories kept slipping away like dust in the wind. He wondered what life would be like if he became a hunter, but he knew Arnie would never go for it.

      All that was left in the world was walking death and … potatoes.

      The sun sank over the mountaintop, ending the market day, and Remy’s dad packed up the last of their crop. They had only a small apartment located within the haven walls, and the majority of it housed dirt boxes to grow potatoes. Remy officially hated the starchy tubers, but they paid the rent and kept them safe.

      I’m going out, he told his dad, after a quick sponge bath.

      A swarm was reported earlier, Arnie said. Perhaps you should stay home.

      Is the swarm of dead upon our doorstep?

      No, but that could change. You know how unpredictable they can be.

      "Well, until then,

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