Zombie Rules | Book 8 | Who The Hell Is That? Achord, David (most popular novels of all time .txt) 📖

“An exploration mission maybe,” True whispered. “I…”

He did not finish his sentence. As they watched, several apparitions emerged from the dark and attacked the four guards. It lasted for maybe ten seconds, and then the zeds ran off, disappearing into the darkness almost as quickly as they had attacked. Three of the guards had been knocked off their feet, the other had been pushed up against the wall. Even with the binoculars, they were too far away to see any injuries. Melvin said as much.

“Maybe something scared the zeds away before they could chow down,” True surmised.

Melvin watched with the binoculars a moment longer before handing them to True.

“They’re looking each other over and one of them is holding something over his cheek. A rag or field dressing, something like that. Another one is holding onto his arm.”

True watched a moment, and then inhaled sharply. Melvin stared in alarm. He did not need the binocs to see the four guards start to spasm in an odd, eerie, ticking. It lasted for a couple of minutes before stopping. The guards turned slowly. One of them knocked on the locked doors, which amazed the two men. If they had turned, how would they know to do something like that? After a moment, the door cracked open.

Chapter 21 – Time to Leave

Melvin hastened a glance toward the back door. Instead of stepping over the broken glass at the front of the erstwhile business, they snuck in through the back door and then secured it with an old hex bolt that was stuck through the hasp where there was once a padlock.

The front of the business slightly faced the hotel. That’s why they snuck in the back so they wouldn’t be spotted. There was nothing stopping anyone or anything from gaining entry through the open windows, but with the back door secured they at least did not have to continuously worry about someone ambushing them from behind.

He turned back toward the hotel. They could hear noises, and they thought they heard some screaming before there was the sporadic sounds of gunfire. The two men exchanged glances.

“We might be stuck here,” Melvin whispered.

“We have enough food to last three more days, if we stretch it out,” True whispered back. “But we ain’t got but a gallon of water left.”

The two men discussed their situation. They kept looking at the hotel while they spoke, each expecting at any moment for the soldiers to come charging out. Although the back door was secured, the front could be easily accessed through the shattered plate glass windows. In addition, they could not see out behind the building. Was the area empty, or were there a thousand zeds waiting on the other side of the door?

After a minute, they reached a decision. To stay any longer was going to increase the risk of them being discovered. So, they were going to attempt to slip out the back door and run back to their truck, which was about a mile down the road.

Most of their gear was already packed in their respective rucksacks. True used a small flashlight with a red lens to aid them in packing up the blankets. They then shouldered the rucks, intentionally keeping the straps fairly loose in the event they had to drop them, if they had to do it in a hurry. They then checked their weapons and gave each other a nod.

True turned off the light and stuck it in his pocket. Melvin had access to one of Mount Weather’s coveted night vision goggles. He put them on and adjusted them before soft stepping to the door. True put one hand on Melvin’s shoulder and the two men moved in unison.

“Alright, here we go,” Melvin whispered.

He swung the door open as quietly as he could. When they had set up in the empty business, they had doused the hinges and hasp with used motor oil. Despite that, one hinge emitted a tiny squeak as he opened it. In normal times it would not have been noticed, but tonight it screeched in the men’s ears like an air raid siren.

Melvin stopped when the door was a couple of inches open and peered out. The goggles colored the area in a pea soup green. One of the lenses had a distinctive scratch on it which interfered with the quality of image, but Melvin ignored it. He scanned for a full minute. Seeing no activity, he reached back to his shoulder and patted True’s hand twice. The signal to move.

Melvin pulled the door open far enough for the two men to walk out. It squeaked some more but the men did not hesitate. They walked in step and soon were at the road. Their truck was several blocks away, parked on a side street amongst several derelict automobiles.

“Alright, one mile to go,” Melvin whispered.

They made it two blocks before encountering zeds.

Chapter 22 – The Cincinnati Zeds

“Two o’clock, eight zeds,” Melvin whispered. The zeds had emerged from behind a building, silent as ghosts. They were approximately fifty yards away and walking toward them on a diagonal course. Melvin was not sure if they had been spotted or if the zeds were simply wandering in the night. Not a common behavior, but not unheard of.

True squeezed his shoulder in acknowledgement as Melvin steered them left, maneuvering to put some derelict cars in between themselves and the zeds. Whatever thoughts Melvin had of the zeds merely being out on a stroll were dispelled when they altered course to intercept the men, and although they were not running, they were ambling toward them at a faster speed than your average decomposing zed. Melvin picked up his pace. True duplicated his pace, occasionally turning to watch their six. As he turned back, Melvin suddenly began firing.

True turned to see another group of zeds. They were on the opposite side of them and were less than twenty feet from them.