Issue 38 Story Taster #4

Cover of Kindle edition

Here and there a pale, contorted face was raised to heaven, the mouth open in a cry I could not hear. Here and there, a man stood upright and struggled forward, only to slip down into what seemed a sea of primeval slime. And they were armed—or rather, had been, for the weak, rainy sunlight was striking on an occasional musket which its bearer tried to keep above the sucking mud. One brave soul waved a sword—and another, a pitchfork. What sort of army was this?

'Ghost Hunting' by Jane Jakeman