All The Pretty Ghosts (The Never Series Book 1) Jamie Campbell (best life changing books .TXT) 📖

They were also the angriest.

“Tell us what we’re doing here,” she demanded. She was quickly joined by at least twenty others, all swarming me as I walked through them. The cold that shivered my body was mostly their fault.

“She’s not listening. She can’t see us.”

“She looked right at me. She knew, I swear it.”

“Tell me where my daughter is. I need to find her.”

“Your daughter? How about my sons? All three of them. I can’t find them anywhere.”

“What happened to us?”

“Why are we here?”

“It hurts too much.

“Speak to me! Just listen. Please.”

“Please, stop.”

I picked up the pace, trying to get away from them. If I ignored the voices long enough, surely they would give up eventually. I was fooling myself, but it was all I had.

My mind wandered to the underground. It was so peaceful there. No spirits followed me down. Whether they couldn’t or whether they wouldn’t, it didn’t make any difference. Only there could I feel the peace that didn’t exist above ground.

Pity it was also populated with liars and thugs.

If Oliver noticed my distraction and haste, he didn’t say anything. He purely walked faster, just as eager to get to the outskirts of the city as I was.

We were heading toward the industrial area. Once, it was a bustling Mecca full of factory workers and trucks. Smoke would have spilled from the tall stacks and the machinery within the concrete walls would have hummed with life.

The area was now just as dead as the adults.

An eerie calm washed over the streets as the buildings stood like lifeless soldiers by the road. Anything could be hiding behind those walls, treasures or danger alike.

“Where do we start?” I asked, standing at the end of one of the major streets. Some of the biggest companies used to make their goods here before the Event.

Oliver shrugged. “At the beginning, I guess.”

So we started at the beginning.

We carefully walked around the first building, trying to find a way in. Many of the windows were broken, either by age, the weather, or vandals, it was hard to stay. It could have been all three.

My ears strained to hear any sign of life inside. If we walked into someone’s home, they wouldn’t exactly welcome us. No doubt, they would react in the same way as the mole people had. I couldn’t take many more injuries.

We stopped at a door and I tried the handle. It was open. Someone had been here before us. Which wasn’t a surprise. It had been over a year. It would be difficult finding anywhere untouched in that time.

The stench hit us first as the door pushed open.

My hand instantly shot up to cover my mouth. It smelled like rotten food and animal excrement. If there was anyone around, they would have been warned off by the smell alone.

We continued in anyway. Chances were, if someone else had caught a whiff of the place, they might have left quickly. Which meant they might have left things behind.

There was no electricity so our only source of light was from the skylights hanging high above. They cast a white glow around the open space, also allowing for a million shadows to hide horrible surprises.

“I’m going to take the right side. You try the left,” I said. Oliver hesitated but I waved him away.

Large pieces of machinery were stationary, frozen in time acting out the last duty they ever performed. The items they were manufacturing were still half-made on the conveyer belts. They were covered with dirt but still recognizable as hubcaps.

Hardly edible or warm.

The factory was a bust. Metal wheel decorations were no good when there wasn’t anyone driving cars anymore. The fuel had long since dried up.

I turned around and wove my way back through the mess to reach the entrance. I waited for Oliver. He would soon come to the same conclusion as I had, it was only a matter of time before he returned.

He eventually did, wearing a grim set to his jaw. “There’s spiders in here.”

“Glad I didn’t see them. I found hubcaps. You?”

“Same. At least we’ve started somewhere.”

That was Oliver.

The eternal optimist.

We left the factory and moved next door. The building was in the same complex, the walls outside painted the same shade of beige. This one’s windows were all smashed. We didn’t need to bother with the door, there was no glass in the windowpanes.

The layout was similar, the lighting exactly the same. We split up again and explored the dark depths of the factory. This time, I kept an eye out for spiders.

There were several.

Several dozen.

I didn’t scream once.

The machinery here was smaller, nothing on the production line. I found Oliver at the other end of the building when he was done with his row. A door leading to a storage room took us into the next part of the factory.

Shelves were lined up in rows. They were laden with boxes. Whatever they produced, they were keeping them neatly stacked.

Once, anyway.

Now, the boxes were askew and torn. Ripped and shredded in places. Someone else had beaten us to it. There was scarcely anything left save for a few stray packets.

“Dog food?” I said, picking up a torn piece of packaging. I held it up so Oliver could see. He squinted in the low light.

“It was probably edible to someone hungry enough,” he commented.

“There’s plenty of people that hungry,” I agreed. Given the option, I might be hungry enough to try some myself.

Everything of value in the storeroom had long since been taken. Oliver and I weaved our way through the factory and back to the door we first entered.

The next five factories were all a bust. People had beaten us to