Bird Food

All quiet up to the Corner House. Place smashed, looted. Looks like all the booze is gone. Don't fancy going in, can see plenty of bodies. Stinks.

Carry on past the theatre then under the bridge. What I see stops me dead.

Looks like a made orgy of death and mutilation. Bodies hanging from Armstrong Bridge, about a hundred. Some still wriggling. Others rotting, crows surrounding them like giant birdfeeders. Body parts hanging from trees. One tree full of arms, another legs. Torsos on stakes. Entrails hanging from the walls. Heads in the gutters lining the road. Arranged neatly like yellow lines. Can't tell if they were living, dead or undead. They're all bird food now.

Huge barracade at the top of the bank. 30 foot high pile of cars, smashed furniture, wood, branches. Corpses woven into it. A giant red flag above.

Painted on the road infront of the barracade: "The Town is Ours. Leave or Die."

Cant see anyone living. Just staring. Not hanging around here. This mob don't seem very welcoming.

No comments:

Post a Comment