Dead Days: Season 3 (Books 13-18) Read Online Free

because she thought hoods looked silly. But she wished she hadn’t now. Her ears were freezing, like they were that time they’d gone on a school trip behind the scenes at Tesco and gone inside the freezer. Like that day up the cold mountain with Dad, wanting nothing more than some hot milk.
    She was hungry, too. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been walking, but it hadn’t gone dark since this morning‌—‌since waking up in that place opposite Heathwaite’s. But it felt like she’d been walking for days and days, and her stomach was rumbling. She thought back to the soup they used to have at the hotel. How she never used to like the little green bits in the tomato soup.
    Her stomach churned again, the taste of that tomato soup tingling her tongue in memory.
    She’d love some of that soup now.
    She kept on walking down the road; kept looking over her shoulder, looking to the sides at the trees, looking ahead at the endless road as it went on and on and on. The map the bad men had left said that this road led to Manchester. But Chloë had been to Manchester with Mum and Elizabeth when she was younger to the Trafford Centre and Manchester definitely didn’t look like this. She wondered how far she had to go. If she’d get there before night. If there would be children‌—‌girls and boys her age that she could play with.
    If Daddy would be…‌
    “Daddy’s gone, Chloë,” she muttered, her lips shivering as she spoke to herself. “Daddy’s gone and Mummy’s gone and Elizabeth’s gone.”
    Speaking the words out loud made it easier for Chloë to understand, but it still made her sad and all teared up inside. She didn’t know why Mike and the bad man and Riley all had that fight. She thought the creatures were the bad ones, so she didn’t know why people were fighting.
    But what the bad man did to her mum.
    No. Forget it, Chloë. It’s done. It’s‌—‌
    The blood spraying out of her mum’s head.
    “No!”
    Her shout was louder than she expected. She was shaking. She heard rustling around her, but that was just the wind again‌—‌or maybe it was monsters, but she’d be okay because she had a gun and people with guns always won. She gripped it tight in her right hand. It was heavy, solid. She didn’t like shooting it. Especially not after how she’d missed before.
    How she’d missed and hit Anna.
    She sniffed up the bitter air, her legs so cold and tired that they were numb. She looked down at her front. Looked down at the little silver chain with the locket around her neck. She lifted it. Brought her thumb against it and rubbed it. Her mum’s Christmas present. She’d got it especially for her. Especially for‌—‌
    Christmas. Was it Christmas yet? Had she missed Christmas? She didn’t know. She knew it was in a few days when she’d left Mike’s, but she’d lost count of how many.
    She started walking again, a sickly weight in her stomach. She didn’t really feel like Christmas much anymore. She just wanted to sleep. Get in bed and sleep and stay nice and warm.
    That would be her ideal Christmas present. A bed. Warmth.
    Maybe in this “Living Zone” she’d find a bed and warmth and some hot soup and they’d be able to have Christmas later this year with all the other children. She’d like that. She’d prefer‌—‌
    She heard a louder rustling up ahead to her right. Louder than the rustling of the wind.
    Her heart beat fast. She gripped the heavy, sweaty gun tightly.
    “Be brave, Chloë,” she whispered to herself. “Mum’s here.”
    The rustling went on. It was coming from the bushes in front of her. The bushes just in front of the tall trees that clawed into the blue-grey sky. She stepped slowly towards it, holding her gun tight, trying not to shiver too much in the cold.
    She lifted the gun. Pointed at the bush. She could see it was moving now. Moving, and shaking away snow.
    Another deep breath. Heart still racing.
    “Be brave, Chloë. Do what Riley would’ve