N87 Virus | Prequel |Outbreak Kadin, Karri (best english novels for beginners txt) 📖

clean clothes and shredded them into strips of fabric. She undid the bandage on her hand and examined her wound. The bite was completely scabbed over. There was no redness, no black lines. Veronica turned her hand over and ran her eyes up her arm, looking for signs that she was sick. Signs that she was close to the end, but found none. How is this possible?

So many unknowns in this world, and now Veronica was the most unknown of all. She re-wrapped the wound to keep it from getting dirty and laid back on a sleeping bag propped up in some hay, next to the nice warm stove. The rain was slowing outside. The pitter patter of drops on the old roof along with Timber’s comforting body next to her, combined with utter exhaustion, soon had her in a deep sleep.

Banging on the barn door startled Veronica awake. When she sat up, the whole barn and the sky outside the loft window was dark.

“Please, please open the door!” a woman said, from the other side of the barn door. “Please, if you're in there open up. I’m not sick, I swear.”

Veronica's gut twisted. She held onto Timber and his entire body shook, but he wasn't growling. He bolted from her arms, ran to the door, and scratched at the wood. He looked back at Veronica and whined.

“I saw you come in here when I was hiding in a tree from the Eaters. I have nowhere else to go. Please. Before they come back,” the woman cried.

Timber clawed at the door and his whine grew more pathetic. Guilt tightened around Veronica’s chest and she struggled to breathe. She stumbled to the door and removed the barricade plank. The door flung open and a blonde woman with pink tear-stained cheeks rushed in. Veronica pushed the door closed and placed the plank back in the brackets.

The woman sat in the middle of the barn with a flashlight and whipped her head around, surveying the area. Veronica walked back to the wood stove and shoved more wood inside, bringing the fire back to life. The glass door on the old stove provided a small area of illumination around it. She sat back down on the sleeping bag and kept her eye on the woman.

“What’s your name?” Veronica asked.

“Everyone I’ve told my name to since this fucking thing began has died. So I’ll keep it to myself if you don’t mind.” The woman walked into the light and sat down near the stove.

“Suit yourself. I’m Veronica.” Veronica rubbed Timber’s tummy as he sprawled out next to her.

“Damn Georgia’s bipolar weather. The winter is going to come early. Of course, that would happen during a fucking apocalypse, huh?” The woman rubbed her hands in front of the fire. “Do you have any food?”

Veronica nodded her head to the old man’s stash behind her.

“Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” The woman opened a can of peaches and tipped them into her mouth. She was the kind of pretty that made other girls hate her. Long golden blonde hair, sparkling eyes, like she was a living barbie doll.

“So, where’d you come from Blondie?”

“Blondie? Really?” She tilted her head and arched her eyebrows.

“If you won’t tell me your name, I get to pick it.” Veronica shrugged.

“I was going to college in Nashville when all this started.”

“Belmont?” Veronica asked. Blondie shook her head.

“Vanderbilt,” she said. Veronica whistled.

“So, you’re a smartie.”

“I guess.” Blondie finished the last of the peaches and held out the can toward Veronica. “Where should I put this?”

“I dunno. Anywhere. It’s not my barn.”

Blondie tossed the can behind her back and sat down on some hay. Screeching sounded in the distance. Even in the dim light Veronica could see the woman’s body tense.

“Damn Eaters.”

“Is that what they are called?” Veronica asked. Blondie shrugged.

“It’s what I call them to differentiate them from the sick that haven’t turned.” Veronica nodded.

The sun started to peek through the open loft door and the golden hay on the barn floor glistened. Blondie looked up at the loft.

“What’s up there?”

“Just the hay loft. I set a bucket up there to catch rainwater.” Veronica stood to her feet and walked to the stairs. Timber leaped to his feet and followed. The wooden steps creaked with each step. A breeze blew in through the open loft door. The scent of grass and rain carried on the wind. Veronica pulled the bucket from its perch and peered inside. Over half full. Timber stared at the water and licked his lips.

“Have at it, Perrito.”

Timber shoved his head into the bucket, lapping up the fresh water. Veronica shifted her eyes to the land in-between the house and the barn. A light morning fog covered the field, birds chirped to welcome the morning, and a yellow glow draped the sky behind the house as the sun rose. The view was postcard perfect. Veronica took a snapshot to store in her mind for later when the horrors of reality returned. Wood creaked behind her, and Veronica glanced over her shoulder to find Blondie walking up the stairs.

Timber pulled his head from the bucket, tail wagging, and walked over to greet her. She held her hand out to him and didn’t move until he pressed his nose to her palm. He sniffed her hand before giving it a lick and then rubbed the length of his body along her legs like a cat. Veronica smiled as she watched Timber’s rear shake as Blondie found the perfect spot to scratch near the base of his tail. Movement near the tree line drew Veronica’s attention.

A tiny figure waddled out from the trees. It jumped in a puddle; the water soaked its lower half. Then a larger figure stepped from the trees and walked to the small one jumping in the water. Veronica squinted her eyes, trying to make out the details of their faces. Blondie stepped forward and stood beside her. When she caught sight of the two figures, Blondie’s face dropped.

The larger one