Winter Smith (Book 1): London's Burning Read Online Free Page B

odd stand, full of items that had never usually been in such high demand before.
                  There had been rope, shovels, garden spades, first aid kits, nails, wood, torches and batteries, all close to selling out. She wondered if they were being bought out of panic, with all the news warning of ‘The Dead Years’ to come.
                  Seeing these items bought now, Winter wondered if she should be working out what to do in case The Dead Years came to greet them. She had considered buying essentials from the stand, but then had seen a married couple looking at her like she was crazy. Were people just being stupid?
                  If ‘The Dead Years’ were true, Winter thought that by now the government would have started warning them. If this threat were inevitable, like the media claimed, the government would be forced to admit the truth. Winter thought that by now safety leaflets would have been distributed, full of information on where to get to safety and who to contact if they were to be witnesses of an attack. It didn’t really look like London had anything to worry about.
                  But what about the attack in China? Why would a whole street be massacred, their bodies ripped apart, blood spilling down drains?
                  The only signs of what was upon them in London were frantic buying of essentials and the break down of shops. Winter wasn’t entirely convinced that The Dead Years were real, yet the feeling that something could happen became stronger every day.
                  But if it was the so-called zombie apocalypse, then Winter decided she needed more proof. 
                  As Winter walked through the town, she spotted the clothes shop she had been planning on going to being shut early. The metal grills were sliding down over the windows, and the shopkeeper was outside looking tense and moody. He saw Winter approaching and spoke before she could.
                  “They’ve shut me down,” the man said with anger. “The council have shut me down.”
                  “Why’s that?” Winter asked. She thought maybe he had been found with drug possession, maybe a weed factory in the back room. Or maybe he had broken the law, imported all of his clothes from slave labour sweatshops in Argentina.
                  “They’re saying some bullshit about things looking bleak,” he said. “That it’s no worry, there’ll be nothing left soon anyway.”
                  Winter thought this was odd. The council were beginning to warn people. Was this anything to worry about?
                  “Said they’re going to shut down the whole street soon,” the man scoffed. “It’s no wonder there’s a recession going on if people from the council are running businesses. And why start with mine first? There’s a dodgy kebab place down the road, why not get rid of that?”
                  Winter left the man to moan to any other people unfortunate enough to pass. She thought about what he had told her. He may not see the reason behind the decision, but if the council was getting involved in shutting down businesses maybe it meant there really was something to worry about.
                  Winter decided to keep her eye out on the news for any suspicious articles; sudden deaths, cannibal murderers. Were they all supposed to wait for The Dead Years to start before something was done, or were they going to be moved along before it happened? Winter saw the dilemma people were facing. If it was true, then moving somewhere else would have been a good idea, but who was to say where you moved was safe, too? If you moved, and the story was all hearsay, well you had lost everything. Your home, your job, your lifestyle. It made sense that nothing was being confirmed or announced. It would probably cause unnecessary