Dark Grace Read Online Free PDF

something to consume. It was unable to do more than that as it had no arms, and only half of its torso. Its gray skin was thin and cracked, creating an image of a ‘living’ mummy. Its face bones were draped in this decaying skin, making it look gaunt. It must have been exposed to the sun for days, floating about aimlessly in the raft. Its shoulders ended in two stumps with darker gray stringy material trailing out. It made me wonder if the arms had been ripped off. Where its torso ended, the ribcage began. A segment of spine trailed below it, also trailing strands of fleshy substance. It was so far gone that it didn’t seem to even know that fresh meat was near. I thought it must be moving its mouth in hopes of food just finding its way there. I really wanted to vomit, so held my stomach and turned away.
    “Holy shit,” said Gus as he coughed from the stench.
    “We have to get rid of it, Gus. It’s going to stink up the whole island.”
    “Zoe, can you help me flip the raft? If we touch the fucker we’ll stink for days.”
    “Sure.”
    “Let’s drag the raft on shore first. We’ll have to bury it or it might keep washing ashore.”
    “What about burning it?” I asked.
    “Might be easiest, but smoke in the daytime might attract unwanted guests.”
    “We can drag it on shore then burn it after dark,” I suggested.
    “Yes, if we build a rock barricade to shield the flames from view. Might work out ok.”
    “Can you put it down though? It’s killing my head and my hip hurts.”
    “Of course I will.”
    It took us just a few minutes to bring the raft far enough on shore that the tide wasn't likely to claim it again. The raft was heavy, so we both took hold of one side and lifted. The semi-body, snapping jaws and all, toppled out. It ended up face-down in the coarse sand, trying to make lunch of the earth. Its horrid browned teeth were making scraping sounds against the grains of sand. The backside of the creature was even worse than the front. It had liquefied into a black sludge and there was no recognizable skin left. It was in stark contrast to the taut sun-dried skin covering its face and chest.
    “Ok, darlin’ go ahead and step back.”
    We dropped the raft. I imagined it’d never be usable again, the mess from the Roamer being extensive. I stepped back several yards, hoping the invasion in my mind would soon be over. I watched as Gus shouldered his rifle and picked up a large rock. He promptly brought the stone down on the back of the Roamer’s head. I could hear the cracking sound of its skull giving way to the assault, and the buzz in my head died. I didn’t need to ask why he chose this method for the kill. I knew bullets were a limited commodity and only to be used when absolutely necessary.
    “Hang tight while I rinse my legs off,” muttered Gus, his voice full of irritation and disgust. He stomped off to the salt water, walking out until he was knee deep. I forced myself to not laugh at him. I was the one who had asked him to kill the Roamer, so in a way his being coated in decay-splatter was my fault.
    We walked together, fishing poles in hand, back to where the dead eagle waited. Gus picked the bird up and held it upside down by its legs again, and we headed back to our campsite. I stayed a few feet ahead, since Gus now smelled a bit ripe, despite rinsing his legs off.
     
     

CHAPTER 3
     
    Once we got back to camp, Gus set the bird and crabs out on a fallen tree not too far from the fire. I put the fishing gear away and then opened a bottle of water for each of us. From the position of the sun in the sky, I figured it must be mid-afternoon. The day had gone by fast. Gus was busy trying to rekindle the fire, which was still just barely smoldering.
    “I’ll get some dry kindling,” I offered.
    “Thanks, darlin’.”
    Before long I joined him fireside, a small armload of kindling in hand. He smiled at me gratefully and took it from my arms. Soon the fire was roaring and the heat felt