A series of terrible things begin to happen when a
scientist with a dark past resumes his genetic experiments in a small Maine
town. The animals suddenly become aggressive for no apparent reason, attacking
anyone within sight, including Rick’s wife. After slaughtering his diseased
herd, Rick realizes to his horror that they have come back to life. Soon the
farm is under siege by the deranged animals, and a small group of refugees who
have assembled in the farmhouse must hunker down and defend themselves against
the terrible onslaught of cannibals. The entire town soon becomes filled with
the human flesh-eaters, threatening the farmhouse and the survivors within it.
But they all have the same message before they reawaken: they are seeking the
chosen ones. The onset of winter provides a temporary defense against the army
of the dead, but with supplies running low, the survivors realize they must
formulate a plan before the arrival of spring and the dreaded melt-off. And as
the world outside them descends into total madness, a surprising leader emerges
from the group who will hopefully lead them to safety.
Let me introduce ‘The Reawakening’ to you with an
excerpt:
The snow didn’t stop. It was relentless and unforgiving.
Once it started that first day it kept on coming, which meant that Dar and I
stood no chance of returning to Boston until the roads had cleared. Every
couple of days we received a fresh coat of powder. It glistened and radiated in
the sun’s sallow glow, obscuring the debris that lay strewn across the
hardening crust. We took turns shoveling in order to keep clear the path
between the doorway and the barn. Every day Rick plowed the snow until the banks
built up like a massive wall in front of the driveway. He plowed it up all
around the farmhouse so as to provide a natural barrier from the creatures.
Other than the flying ones, it would be difficult for the dead to reach us. We
made sure to have two sharpshooters tag along with the people shoveling just in
case the dead flew down from the roof.
The power died and never returned, which meant that we
had to rely strictly on the generator. Rick turned the generator on for about
two hours a night. At around nine we lit candles and read or played cards by
the flickering light. He’d insulated the house a few years back by spraying
foam in the walls and laying loose insulation along the attic floor. That
combined with the fireplace kept us relatively warm and dry. We ate cereal and
canned goods for breakfast and lunch, and we took turns preparing hot meals for
dinner. Coffee in the morning got reheated over the fireplace.
We learned to live with each other, to put up with each
other’s idiosyncrasies and help deal with the post-traumatic stress we suffered
on account of living among such cruel demons. As a result, we worked to
tolerate each other’s needs as best we could. The children behaved relatively
well, considering the situation we found ourselves in, but they acted up like
most children do. Gunner had his hands full taking care of them, especially
when Emily cried out for her mother. We all tried to help out as much as
possible, but there was only so much any of us could do. Thorn was the
exception when it came to the kids. He didn’t want anything to do with them. He
did, however, make up for it by performing many of the laborious tasks that no
one else wanted to do. In his defense, he claimed he’d rather fight
hand-to-hand combat against five flesh-eaters than have to deal with kids.
The snow piled up against the house in long, sweeping
arcs, and the temperatures often dropped below zero. Most days the wind whipped
hard down from Canada and whistled through the snow-swept valley.
On Thanksgiving Day we ate a hearty meal cooked up by
Kate. Instead of turkey we had one of the chickens Rick processed this past
summer and stored in his freezer. He kept three freezers filled with poultry,
beef, deer and moose meat out in the barn. Though the freezers stopped working
because of the power outage, the arctic temperatures did the work for us. Rick
had a room in the basement filled with canned goods, dried foods and other
supplies, which he figured would last us until the end of spring, assuming we
rationed the food in a sensible manner. Had it been just him and Susan, it
would have lasted much longer. Although we all changed our eating habits, Thorn
seemed to have a hollow leg when it came to his appetite. If we made it to
spring, I had high hopes that the government or military would have a handle on
the situation and we’d all be allowed to return home... Continue reading
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