Ashen Winter Read Online Free PDF

whispered.
    “Might be asleep. They could have walked all night.”
    “Maybe. Get the lantern?”
    “Yeah. Cover the door for me.”
    We left the house, and Darla stepped to one side of the door so she could shoot anyone coming out. I jogged back to Bikezilla to retrieve the lantern. Lighting it was a laborious and somewhat noisy process, so I did it beside the bike. I had to strike a spark into some of the oak bark using my knife and the flint, use that to light a candle, and then, finally, fire up the lantern with the candle. Before the volcano, I never would have guessed that matches and lighters would be among the things I’d miss the most if civilization collapsed.
    With the pistol on my belt, lantern in one hand, and staff in the other, I jogged back, careful to zigzag, just in case. We stalked back into the house. The hallway was empty, and all three doors at the far end of it were closed. We moved as quietly as we could, but even the whisper of my feet against the carpet sounded loud in my ears.
    I opened the first door, Darla beside me with the shotgun ready. The lamplight gleamed on porcelain. A bathroom. The toilet tank was broken, the water within frozen into a block of dirty ice. I stepped inside to peek behind the shower curtain. Empty.
    The second door led to a bedroom. The bed was a rumpled mess. Filthy clothes were piled in one corner, next to scattered splinters that might have once been a dresser. The room was otherwise empty.
    I opened the third and last door. The lantern revealed another unmade bed. The rest of the furniture had been reduced to broken scraps.
    “Check the far side of the bed,” Darla whispered.
    I crept across the bedroom. Nobody was beside the bed. But as I turned to go, I noticed a bloodstain on the sheets. I swung the light in a big, slow circle, looking for more blood. And I found some: two droplets low on the closed closet door. I pointed at it.
    Darla nodded, and we tiptoed to the closet. I grasped the knob, standing to one side, while Darla trained the shotgun on the center of the door. I yanked it open.
    A blond man sat on the floor, his right side soaked in blood, wild blue eyes flicking up at us. The shelves and closet bar were empty. But I noticed all that in passing. What really caught my attention was the machine pistol he had trained on Darla.

Chapter 6
    “Take it easy,” I said, trying to pitch my voice low and calm. “No need for anyone to get hurt.”
    “You know,” Darla said, “if I pull this trigger it’ll turn you into bloody confetti.”
    I glared at her out of the corner of my eye. That wasn’t exactly the calm, rational tone I’d been going for.
    “Thish ish a MAC-10.” The guy’s words were slurred, as if he were drunk or something. “Put all 30 rounds into you in lesh than two sheconds. Back away!”
    I held up my hands, clutching my staff in one and the lantern in the other. “It’s okay. We’re backing up.” I took a slow step backward. “Chill.”
    Darla hadn’t moved, and she was glaring sidelong back at me.
    “Back up a step, Darla,” I said, using as calm a voice as I could muster.
    Her mouth hardened to a line, but she did it, moving back a pace with the shotgun still trained on the bandit.
    He started to nod. His head drooped, and his eyes closed. The MAC-10’s barrel fell. When it touched his knee, he gave a start and snapped awake, the gun barrel twitching from Darla to me and back to Darla. “Keep backing up,” he growled.
    I took another slow step backward, studying the guy. His right elbow was clamped against his side. His coat and pants shone with fresh blood in the lamplight. A small puddle had collected by his right hip. He could have shot me on the farm. But he hadn’t—he’d run instead. Why? “What’s your name?” I asked.
    “Doesn’t matter,” he replied, almost whispering.
    “Strange first name your parents gave you, Mr. Matter,” Darla muttered.
    “You had me dead to rights back on the farm. Why