By Mark Wilson
The bubonic plague rages. In a determined try to quarantine the contaminated, town leaders seal the citizens of Mary King's shut of their underground homes.
Mary King's shut is reopened, unleashing a mutated plague upon the town residents.
The united kingdom executive seals the total urban. pointing out it a useless sector they seal the survivors within along the contaminated. dEaDINBURGH is asserted a no man's land, its citizens left for lifeless and to the dead.
Joseph MacLeod, born onto the cobbles of the Royal Mile and stolen from the clutches of the contaminated is decided to flee the quarantined urban. below the suggestions of former –marine Padre Jock, he leaves the confines of town centre and hones his archery and free-running skills.
Alys Shephard, born into an all-women farming neighborhood believes a therapy lies within the south of the quarantined region. the best combatant within the lifeless urban, Alys burns with anger. The anger of an deserted child.
Something a lot worse than the contaminated waits for them within the south, within the type of a spiritual cult led via a madman named Somna who collects grotesque trophies and worships the useless physique of a former megastar. additional to this, the enigmatic Bracha, a perfect survivalist and sadistic former-Royal together with his personal time table stalks the teenagers.
A self-contained tale, dEaDINBURGH is a character-driven younger Adult/horror novel, exploring the human skill for sturdy, evil and for survival. encouraged through George A Romero's 'Dawn of the Dead', the works of Robert Kirkman and Jonahan Maberry's 'Rot and Ruin' sequence.
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Extra info for dEaDINBURGH
But it was certainly neither hounds nor the wind. I did not venture to ask a question before the keeper had led us out of his game-farm and set us upon a lane of the forest which the Doctor, evidently relieved to be alone with me again, followed at a rapid pace, uphill. Then to my asking if we were not going to look at the Hall, he grunted briefly, “Nein,” and explained no further until we came to the top of the hill. He leaned against a pine tree and wiped his brow, for the day was very warm and he was unused to exercise.
Between these two daises, though a broad space distant from each other, stood the great Hall table that would have seated a hundred people with ample elbow-room for all. The Gauleiter and his friends were no more than a dozen; with them were dining some dozen or fourteen of the Count's officers. All sat, well spaced out, towards the head of the table, and at the head itself, facing our window, in a huge carved wooden chair, sat Hans von Hackelnberg. I had expected a striking figure. I had imagined him, I suppose, as a man with something of the distinction of the old Eastern European aristocracy in his face and manner.
They were always naked to the waist, so that I could observe their well-fed, sleek bodies; the livery trousers they wore of green or brown stuff were so tight as to mould their haunches and legs; they all looked as if they were running to fat, and were only kept in condition by a lot of hard work, though none of them seemed above twenty-two or so. I noticed that each wore a thin collar of bright metal round his neck. “They are cheaper than machines,” was the Doctor's comment when I said something about them.
dEaDINBURGH by Mark Wilson