“Please,” he gurgled. “I have kids.”
Inside the Vault of St. Agnes, the cryo-pod was dead. A frozen woman’s face stared through the frosted glass—peaceful, beautiful, utterly useless. The cure was a fairy tale.
The rain over the dead city tasted like tin and old pennies. Sherry had stopped trying to remember its real name three winters ago. Now, it was simply The Hollow—a graveyard of shattered highways and glass-toothed towers that clawed at a sky the color of a bruise. Sherry Apocalypse Schoolgirl Pack 1 P Mature
The Sweetness of Rust Series: Sherry Apocalypse: Schoolgirl Pack 1 P Mature Content Warning: Mature themes, psychological tension, survival horror.
Sherry pressed her back against a fallen pillar. The church smelled of mildew and old incense. Through a gap in the stained glass—a serene Mary now missing her face—she watched the men argue over a broken vending machine. “Please,” he gurgled
Yuki looked up. “Another rumor?”
Sherry sat on the floor, back against the pod, and took out a piece of hard candy she’d been saving for two months. Butterscotch. She broke it into three pieces with the pommel of her knife. A frozen woman’s face stared through the frosted
“Contact,” Yuki whispered from the choir loft. Her voice was a reed in the wind. “Three mature male scavvers. Armed with pipe guns. They have a dog.”
Yuki, the sniper, who saw the world in bullet-drop comps and windage. Mei, the chemist, whose gentle hands could turn bleach and antifreeze into a room-clearing gas. And Sherry. The leader. The one who remembered.
Their objective today was the Vault of St. Agnes, a pre-Fall school rumored to hold a working cryo-pod. Inside: a pharmacologist who’d developed a partial cure for the Rustlung plague that turned adults into shambling, calcified statues.
And somewhere deep in The Hollow, the Siren began to wail again. But for once, Sherry didn’t run. She just listened. Then she walked toward the sound.
“Please,” he gurgled. “I have kids.”
Inside the Vault of St. Agnes, the cryo-pod was dead. A frozen woman’s face stared through the frosted glass—peaceful, beautiful, utterly useless. The cure was a fairy tale.
The rain over the dead city tasted like tin and old pennies. Sherry had stopped trying to remember its real name three winters ago. Now, it was simply The Hollow—a graveyard of shattered highways and glass-toothed towers that clawed at a sky the color of a bruise.
The Sweetness of Rust Series: Sherry Apocalypse: Schoolgirl Pack 1 P Mature Content Warning: Mature themes, psychological tension, survival horror.
Sherry pressed her back against a fallen pillar. The church smelled of mildew and old incense. Through a gap in the stained glass—a serene Mary now missing her face—she watched the men argue over a broken vending machine.
Yuki looked up. “Another rumor?”
Sherry sat on the floor, back against the pod, and took out a piece of hard candy she’d been saving for two months. Butterscotch. She broke it into three pieces with the pommel of her knife.
“Contact,” Yuki whispered from the choir loft. Her voice was a reed in the wind. “Three mature male scavvers. Armed with pipe guns. They have a dog.”
Yuki, the sniper, who saw the world in bullet-drop comps and windage. Mei, the chemist, whose gentle hands could turn bleach and antifreeze into a room-clearing gas. And Sherry. The leader. The one who remembered.
Their objective today was the Vault of St. Agnes, a pre-Fall school rumored to hold a working cryo-pod. Inside: a pharmacologist who’d developed a partial cure for the Rustlung plague that turned adults into shambling, calcified statues.
And somewhere deep in The Hollow, the Siren began to wail again. But for once, Sherry didn’t run. She just listened. Then she walked toward the sound.
