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The Revenant of Wrecker's Dock: Hallowind Cove, #1
The Revenant of Wrecker's Dock: Hallowind Cove, #1
The Revenant of Wrecker's Dock: Hallowind Cove, #1
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The Revenant of Wrecker's Dock: Hallowind Cove, #1

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A dead man stalks a seaside town, looking for vengeance...

Strange things keep happening in the permanently fog-shrouded seaside town of Hallowind Cove, earning it the nickname "Harbour of the Weird".

When Paul comes Hallowind Cove, after inheriting an old house from an uncle he barely knew, he doesn't put much stock in those stories. But then he finds himself hunted by an angry zombie, who is looking to avenge a century-old crime…

This is a short story of 4400 words or approximately 16 pages in the Hallowind Cove series, but may be read as a standalone.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 26, 2015
ISBN9781513012148
The Revenant of Wrecker's Dock: Hallowind Cove, #1
Author

Cora Buhlert

Cora Buhlert was born and bred in North Germany, where she still lives today – after time spent in London, Singapore, Rotterdam and Mississippi. Cora holds an MA degree in English from the University of Bremen and is currently working towards her PhD. Cora has been writing, since she was a teenager, and has published stories, articles and poetry in various international magazines. When she is not writing, she works as a translator and teacher.

Read more from Cora Buhlert

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    Book preview

    The Revenant of Wrecker's Dock - Cora Buhlert

    The Revenant of Wrecker’s Dock

    pinstripe

    Paul pulled up the collar of his coat against the ever-present fog that enveloped the town of Hallowind Cove. His hair was damp, his skin clammy, every bone in his body ached and the cough he’d developed shortly after coming to Hallowind Cove was back, worse than ever.

    One day, this town was gonna be the death of him.

    He turned onto Wrecker’s Dock in Hallowind Cove harbour or what passed for it, cause these days, the docks were mostly deserted with only the occasional fishing boat moored at the quay.

    The fog was even thicker here, rolling in from the sea in waves of white. Walking along the seafront probably wasn’t the best of ideas, considering that the fog was making him sick. But Paul did not care. He was headed for The Croaking Foghorn, a harbourside pub that offered beer and stronger drinks as well as some of the best and freshest seafood dishes Paul had ever seen.

    A raven set perched on one of the tar-covered bollards along the quay, fixing Paul with unnerving eyes.

    Wa-atch out, the raven croaked, Wa-atch out!

    Or at least that’s what it sounded like. For of course birds couldn’t talk, even though this one gave a pretty good impression of it. Paul had seen the raven before, hanging around town and emitting croaks that sounded uncannily like words.

    He’d once asked Ian, landlord of The Croaking Foghorn and the closest thing Paul had to a friend here in Hallowind Cove, about the raven.

    Oh, that’s just Hugo, Ian had said, Never mind him. He likes to pretend he’s a harbinger of doom, but he’s really quite harmless.

    Wa-atch out, Hugo croaked again, Wa-atch out.

    Shut up, Hugo, Paul

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