Soul Legacy: A Supernatural Ghost Series (The Windhaven Witches Book 2) by Carissa Andrews (english books to improve english .txt) 📗

see him. And those who do usually forget after a few days. But I suppose that’s neither here or there,” he says, chewing on the side of his lip. “Ah, the hell with it. I’ll tell you, but you have to promise me—”

A strange, scratching noise behind the columbarium makes him pause. Twisting around, I follow his gaze, but there’s nothing there.

“What was that?” I whisper, holding tightly to Wade’s arm out of surprise.

He shakes his head. “I dunno.”

“Do you think someone’s watching us? Oh god, what if you’re right? Is there someone here taking pictures to incriminate us?” I say, suddenly concerned.

“Stay here. I’ll check it out,” he says quietly, holding an arm out and taking a tentative step forward.

“Not a chance, Angel. We go together. I’ve seen enough horror movies to know you never split up when there are strange noises,” I say, shaking my head.

He shoots me a smirk, but nods. “Fine, but stay behind me. Deal?”

“I can handle myself,” I say, jutting out my chin.

“Fine, together, then,” he whispers, rolling his eyes in defeat.

Together, we take slow, deliberate steps forward, inching our way to the side of the columbarium. The sunlight is dwindling as it sets behind us and casts deep grooves on the small mounds of snow at our feet.

Before we reach the back of the columbarium, the scraping sound erupts again, and a man stumbles out from behind the structure. His clothes are tattered, and his skin is an awful shade of grey. Clumps of hair are even falling out of the top of his head.

Stumbling backward, I cover my mouth to keep from screaming. “What is that thing?” I squeak.

Before Wade can answer, the creature turns its empty eye sockets in our direction and races straight for us.

Chapter 8

Undead Things

Wade spins around on his heel, grabbing hold of my arm as we run the opposite direction. Behind us, the creature lets out an ear-piercing screech and it surges forward, trying to keep up with us.

Before we can make it to the car, another zombie-like woman blocks our escape. She races out, coming between us and the vehicle. Her marble-grey hair is missing from one side of her head, and the skin on the left side of her face is beginning to flake away. Yet, just like the other one, her sunken eyes and missing eyeballs are the most horrifying part about her.

“This way,” Wade commands, switching directions and heading toward the older part of the cemetery.

I follow him without question, my eyes scanning for a place to hide or a way to get away. Unfortunately, there are only gravestones, fake flowers and wreaths, and dormant trees—most of which have no low-hanging branches to grab onto. There are no buildings or even mausoleums to escape into.

“What do we do?” I cry out, my voice cracking as I struggle to maintain my momentum. The cold air makes my lungs hurt, but I keep running despite it.

“We need to find a better defense position,” Wade says, scanning the area but refusing to stop running. I’m sure he’s come to the same conclusion I have.

There’s nowhere to run.

The two undead creatures pick up speed behind us, squealing like pigs about to be slaughtered. The sound is terrifying, and I clap my hands over my ears, trying to drown it out.

My legs begin to falter, and panic starts to bleed into every cell of my body.

“Whatever we do, we have to do it soon. I can’t keep this up much longer. My quads are gonna give out,” I cry.

I no sooner say the words than my left ankle rolls in a small dip hidden by the snow. The resounding crack and shot of pain that zips up my leg instantly pulls at my impulse to gag. Before I know it, I lose contact with Wade’s hand and go down. I’m planted face first on the snowy ground, my leg throbbing from the knee downward. I bend forward, clawing at my leg as if it will somehow help.

Wade scrambles back to me, groping at my arms. “Come on, come on, Autumn.” He does his best to yank me back onto my feet. “We have to keep moving. I don’t know how to stop them. We have no weapons or anything.”

I scream out in pain as I’m pulled upright. “I can’t—I can’t run. I’ve twisted something. It might be broken.”

Panic swells inside me and the horror of the situation crashes down like an entire building being demolished. We’re done for.

I’m done for.

“You need to go—” I yell, trying to push him away. “Get out of here.”

Without even arguing with me, Wade scoops me up into his arms and trudges forward as fast his legs can carry us. Unfortunately, within seconds, the creatures close the distance. They reach out, tugging at the bottom of Wade’s leather jacket and throwing him off balance. He stumbles forward, trying to set me down gently, but instead, he ends up dumping me into a small snow pile before he goes down as well.

I scramble back, doing my best to ignore the blinding pain as I try to put distance between myself and the haunting remnants of what used to be people. The rotten woman chases after Wade; the other decides I’m his, with his rotting fingers reaching out for me as I scramble back.

Twisting around, Wade kicks wildly at the creature as she drops to the ground, following his descent. Despite having no eyes to see with, they both have surprisingly quick reflexes. They crawl after us with fervor, dodging any attempts we throw at them to keep them at bay. Wade kicks vehemently as the bony fingers wrap around his ankle.

“Autumn, grab me the wreath stand,” Wade yells, pointing to a freshly placed wreath a few yards away.

Scrambling to my feet, I half-crawl, half-hop to a wreath stand a couple of feet away. I pluck the wreath from it and fling it aside. Then, I hobble as close as I dare and