We Are Not Angels by Nadine Little EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Nadine Little
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal Angel Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I hate the silence more than the screams. Silence means they’re hunting.
So much for a hospital being a safe space.
I hunker deeper in the cupboard. A shelf creaks against my spine and
bandages rustle in plastic tubs. I slip a couple of crinkling dressing packets
into my backpack.
A weight thuds on the other side of the door.
“Please!” a man yelps. “They just rebuilt my leg! I’m no threat to
anyone.” Footsteps slap-scrape, slap-scrape down the corridor. “I recycle!
Please—”
An awful singing drowns the voice, rising in a crescendo past the
cupboard door. My gut twists. The man screams once. Then nothing. I suck
a gulp of dusty air and hold my breath.
They move so quietly, it’s like they’re not there.
But they are.
“I’m bedridden, you merciless bastards,” quails a woman’s voice. “Why
don’t you take that arrow and stick it up your—”
Singing and silence.
The patients should have been evacuated last week after the shelter in
place order was lifted and cities started to empty. Plus, healthy adults are
the worst offenders, not the sick, injured and infirm. Why target the weak?
But the woman is right.
The angels are merciless.
My fault for lingering here so long but the building is vast. Dawn
arrived before I knew it.
I stay in the cupboard until my legs go numb and the light fades beneath
the door. A protein bar soothes the grumbles in my stomach. Tiredness
weighs my eyelids but I dare not sleep. I sip water from my bottle—singleuse plastic.
Guess I’m going to hell, if I’m not already there.
The door squeaks open to a slice of shadowed corridor. Electric lights
glow elsewhere in the building, comforting while the rest of the world falls
apart.
We probably have a few days, a week at the most, before the services
shut down. The benefit of Scotland receiving most of its power from
renewable energy. It could be over by then, the survivors crawling from
their caves to pick up not quite where we left off. Unsuitably chastised.
I tip-toe along the corridor, my boots hushed on the linoleum. I skirt
abandoned hospital beds, their sheets trailing to the floor. Powder cakes the
creases. Rot sweetens each breath and coats my tongue.
I was horrified to discover the dead and dying patients when I emerged
from hiding yesterday night to scavenge the Western General Hospital,
assuming it would be empty. Last week, the police and army tried to
evacuate Holyrood and rein in the panicked flight of civilians after the
military defences collapsed at the coast and angels entered the UK. We
should have known from the speed Europe fell but it all happened so fast.
The angels swept into the streets of Edinburgh five days ago and took the
castle. The patients must have been abandoned in the chaos.
At least the smell keeps other people away.
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