Severed Souls by Terry Goodkind Page B

to go with the first. None of them slowed him any more than did the first.
    The dead man tossed the screaming young soldier down on the ground at his feet. Even as other men hacked at him with swords and stabbed him with knives, the attacker seized his one-armed victim by the ankle and threw him into the side of a building with such force it cracked the clapboard walls. The man fell unconscious at the edge of the road, bleeding his life away.
    Others of the dead, from the dried and brittle to the slimy and bloated, advanced into the midst of the young defensive guard trying to keep them back. Axes driven by powerfully strong men failed to bring down even one of the dead. Confidence swiftly turned to terror and screams, both from the young men and from the townspeople watching.
    The battle was as brief as it was one-sided. In moments it was over and any confidence or hope the townspeople had that their home guard could protect them was shattered. All of the young men lay bleeding, most of them dead, at the feet of the dead come back to life standing over them. And the Shun-tuk had yet to descend on the town.
    Lord Arc, the spirit king, the Mord-Sith, and the untold thousands of half people waiting behind watched without reaction. The townspeople watched with unbridled terror. Some screamed. Some fell to their knees and prayed to the Creator to spare them. Some begged Lord Arc for mercy. Many tried to run and hide.
    Then the king of the dead, the greenish glow wavering over his worldly corpse, turned back to the sea of whitewashed figures behind.
    The spirit king said but one word.
    â€œFeed.”

 
    CHAPTER
    9
    With that single command, the silent Shun-tuk instantly turned into a howling mass of killers leaping ahead toward the townspeople. People screamed as they scattered in a panic to escape, but it was too late. To the sides, a flood of the half people spilled in from between buildings. At the far end of town the road was inundated with the half-naked figures. They poured around Gerald as if he were a boulder in a raging river.
    Some of the invading throng knocked into him on their way past him, spinning him around, making him stumble as he was buffeted first one way and then another. They ignored him in their madness to get beyond him to the people of Insley.
    When they reached those frightened people, they fell on them with the savagery of wolves taking down terrified prey.
    It was shocking how quickly the muddy road through town turned red. Everywhere people shrieked in panic. The Shun-tuk barged into buildings, going after people who ran inside seeking safety. People cowered inside, but Gerald could tell by the shrieks that there had been no safety in trying to hide.
    In other places, people dove headlong out of windows on the second floors of buildings to escape those coming after them inside. Chalky white arms stretched out of those windows, trying to catch the fleeing people. Those who jumped escaped for only the brief moments they were in midair. Once they crashed to the ground, the Shun-tuk pounced on them, closing in so tightly that no more could get in on the ferocious feast.
    Clothes were torn off to get at flesh. Teeth sank into victims. The howling, whitewashed figures strained, pulling their heads back with the effort of ravenously tearing off the stretching chunks of flesh. Others stretched in to lick at the blood gushing from open wounds. The chalky faces with the blackened eyes were swiftly stained a bright red.
    It appeared to matter not to them what part of the victim they could get at. They bit into every part of their thrashing, suffering prey with equal intensity. Mouths of others opened wide as they tried to get in for their share. Teeth raked over faces, skinning off the features. Skin and muscle of legs and arms were pulled off in a savage feeding frenzy. As the soft part of the bodies were torn open, bloody hands reached in and pulled the viscera out past those crowded in close so that they