Excerpt: The Gun Hill Infestation

Chapter One Leaves

A rotting apple dropped from the gnarled remains of a dying tree. The branches shook violently with the howling wind, ripping through the leaves and tearing its diseased crops to the ground. The contaminated apple tore through the flesh of the cheek lying below. The orchard was cold this year, the sky darker, earlier, the pickings no longer eagerly plucked from their sources. The broken wood fence surrounding the field was lackluster, unkept. The supports were failing to stand, barely up in the sodden ground. The corner of the field remains empty. A long graying strand of wire lays entangled in sharp root and brambles, the post long stolen away. Remaining wire trails along the ground, often catching stray cloth, wool and flesh. Trampled with prints, the churned up ground is strewn with nothing but dying skin. Amongst the blackening apples lay a pair of horses, their eyes motionless, and their smell festering in the air amongst the sour decay.