Scott Nicholson Library, Vol. 4
Box of Boo (Library, Vol. V)
Mad Stacks: Short Stories Box Set
Bad Stacks: Short Stories Box Set
Odd Stacks: Short Stories Box Set
VIEW U.K. KINDLE BOOKS BY SCOTT NICHOLSON:
After: First Light
After: The Shock
After: The Echo
The Scarecrow (Solom #1)
The Narrow Gate (Solom #2)
McFall
Liquid Fear
Chronic Fear
Creative Spirit
The Home
The Gorge
Disintegration
The Red Church
Speed Dating with the Dead
The Skull Ring
Drummer Boy
The Harvest
Kiss Me or Die
Cursed (with J.R. Rain)
Ghost College (with J.R. Rain)
The Vampire Club (with J.R. Rain)
Bad Blood (with J.R. Rain & H.T. Night)
Spider Web (with J.R. Rain)
Meat Camp (with J.T. Warren)
October Girls
Crime Beat
The Dead Love Longer
Burial to Follow
Fangs In Vain
Collections
Curtains
Flowers
Ashes
The First
Zombie Bits
Head Cases
Gateway Drug
Missing Pieces
These Things Happened
Children’s Books
Bad Day for Balloons (with Sergio Castro)
If I Were Your Monster (with Lee Davis)
Duncan the Punkin (with Sergio Castro)
Too Many Witches (with Lee Davis)
Ida Claire (with Lee Davis)
Writing
Write Good or Die
The Indie Journey: Secrets to Writing Success
Omnibus editions
Ethereal Messenger
Mystery Dance
Horror Movies: Three Screenplays
Three Ghost Stories (with J.R. Rain and Aiden James)
Ghost Box: Six Supernatural Thrillers
Scott Nicholson Library, Vol. 1
Scott Nicholson Library, Vol. 2
Scott Nicholson Library, Vol. 3
Scott Nicholson Library, Vol. 4
Box of Boo: Library, Vol. 5
Mad Stacks: Short Stories Box Set
Bad Stacks: Short Stories Box Set
Odd Stacks: Short Stories Box Set
THE FINAL WINTER
THE SNOW WAS JUST THE START...
On the night it begins snowing in every country of the world, an ordinary group of people gather at a rundown English pub. At first they assume the weather is just a random occurrence and nothing to worry about - but as the night goes on, weirder things happen, and they start to realise that something far more sinister is at hand. Something that none of them could ever have imagined.
By the end of the night, not everyone will make it, and those that do will wish they hadn’t.
This book has been written using UK English. Some spellings may vary in other territories.
THE FINAL WINTER
(Special Edition)
By
Iain Rob Wright
Now this was the sin of Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy. They were haughty and did detestable things before me. Therefore I did away with them as you have seen.
— Ezekiel 16:49-50
The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event
— J. B. Priestley
Chapter One
Harry sipped his latest beer as yet another news update flashed across the pub’s dusty television. A female reporter appeared onscreen, enveloped by an over-sized pink ski-jacket and covered in snow. “Good evening,” she said politely, a slight shiver in her voice. “I’m Jane Hamilton with Midland-UK News. As you can clearly see, the nineteen-inches of snow Britain has witnessed during the previous 24-hours has left the nation’s transportation network in disarray.”
The camera panned to overlook a deserted motorway. A sky-blue transit van lay overturned and abandoned in its centre; its mystery cargo strewn across – and half-buried by – the snow.
The reporter let out a breath, which steamed in the air, and then continued. “Major roads have now been closed and the nation’s rail links have been terminated until further notice. Schools are closed, along with most nonessential businesses, while hospitals are doing their best to remain open. The current death toll of weather-related fatalities is now at twenty-seven and feared to rise. Emergency services have set up a helpline in order to assist those in need and to offer advice on how best to survive the current freezing temperatures. That number is being displayed at the bottom of the screen now.”
Harry shook his head. How long are they going keep this up? We get it, the weather’s bad. No need to act like it’s the end of the world.
“Even more concerning,” the television reporter continued, “is the fact that it is currently snowing throughout every nation of the world.” A multi-coloured map of the earth superimposed itself at the top-right of the screen and then slowly turned white, representing the recent snowfall. “From barren deserts to areas of dense rainforest, all have been subjected to unprecedented snowfall, some for the first time in centuries. Never before in recorded history has such an event been known to occur. Certain religious leaders are calling this-”
”Rubbish!” Old Graham, the most elderly regular of The Trumpet pub and lounge, threw his hands up in disgust and grumbled in Harry’s direction. “Bloody fear-mongers, that’s what they are. A little snow and the country trembles at the knees.”
Harry lifted his head away from his half-finished pint and glanced over at the old man. He was pointing to the television that was mounted against the rear wall by a pair of rusted brackets.
Harry shrugged his shoulders. “What?”
Old Graham huffed. “More nonsense about a few snowflakes bringing the country to a standstill. Your generation can’t cope with anything unless there’s a video on that yourtube or myface to tell you about it!”
Harry glanced at the television again. The weather was starting to affect the signal and the picture flickered constantly. The endless evening-news updates had shown locations from around the globe, half-buried by blankets of slush and snow: The Pyramids of Giza ice-capped like Himalayan Mountains, the canals of Venice frozen over like elaborate ice rinks, and Big Ben rising above a snow-covered Westminster like a giant stalagmite.
Harry returned his gaze to Old Graham. “I agree it’s a bit much, but the fact that it’s snowing everywhere is at least a little odd, don’t you think?”
The old man huffed again, the sound wet and wheezy. “You think Canada or Switzerland are panicking about the weather? This is a heat wave to an Eskimo! All this climate-change, ozone-layer hogwash they’re harping on about is just to scare us, you mark my words, lad.”
Harry thought about it for a moment. According to the news segments throughout the day it had been categorically denied that climate-change could cause such unprecedented weather. Whatever was causing the snow was something else entirely, said the scientists, if only a random occurrence. But, whatever the cause, Harry wasn’t about to allow himself to get rattled by media-frenzy and speculation. The freakish weather didn’t concern him one bit – nothing did anymore – and he knew that if he got into a conversation with Old Graham about it he’d be stuck listening to the wrinkled codger’s piss-n-vinegar all night. It had happened enough times previously for Harry to learn his lesson: lonely pensioners had a penchant for long-windedness.
Harry swallowed another mouthful of crisp lager and kept his attention on the flickering television screen. When he glanced left again, Old Graham was still gawping at him. Harry sighed and decided to give in and talk to the guy. “Bet everything will be back to normal this time next week, huh, Graham?”