In The End Box Set | Books 1-3 Stevens, GJ (story books to read TXT) 📖

Did they know what a state I was in? Still, I checked both doors were locked, as I'd been told.

I checked the two kids were still sound asleep. The two sisters, but not of each other and no relation to me. Still they were precious, right? Was anything precious anymore?

I stood at the bedroom window with the curtains open and watched out, staring across the field, up and down the road as far as I could, which wasn't very far at all.

I turned back to watch Naomi stir, my hand grabbing for my chest as I focused, waiting for the sheets to rise and fall, soon turning to the window and looking back through the rain across my vision, even though the clouds were only just building.

All I could do was wait. All I'd been doing was waiting, going along with their plan and look where it had got me. Look at where it had got Naomi.

I turned again and watched her breath pause, picking up my own only when hers did.

A decision had been made and this time it was my own. When Naomi and I were no longer, I would go it alone. If I lived for an hour, a day or maybe more, it would be on my terms, not on those of another.

Yes, I felt something inside me react. Yes, I could feel the guilt rising in my chest. Logan had done his best, but the best wasn't good enough.

I thought about going now. I thought about leaving the children sound asleep to be found by the two big strong men, or by Logan and his wife to be; if they ever came back. If they could ever make the journey.

I looked out again, across the window and down the road, turning either side to see the empty street rolling out. The plan was set and I wouldn't be turned away.

77

I couldn't leave. I had to wait until I had nothing here left to live for, but it wouldn't take too long. The wardrobe was easy to move, easy to push across the door.

No-one would divert me from my plan. Not even those creatures chasing after Andrew and the boy, racing down the street towards us. Not even the banging at the front door or Lane's colourful calls for me to turn the key.

They were soon in anyway, their noise inside the house told me so. Voices calling my name confirmed, but they didn't need me. What did I have to give, anyway?

A fist hammered at the bedroom door. The handle turned, rattling loose in its brass enclosure. I didn't reply and it went away.

A scream ran through the house, followed by a toddler's cry. I listened to the wailing voices, not able to stop putting their features to the unholy cries, the sound still getting through my fists despite being pushed hard to my ears.

I heard fighting, sure I could smell that stench. I turned to Naomi, but despite the space between her breaths, it wasn't coming from her direction.

Gun shots came next, one after the other, the burning smell adding to the mix. Then nothing. No sign of who'd won.

I stood, unable to keep back the tears. I watched outside as a crowd built, funnelling through into the house. I heard my name. I was sure and stopped my heavy breath, wiping the tears from my cheeks. A name, my name. They needed me.

I turned to Naomi and held my palms flat on her chest, then moved to her hand and for the first time felt her grip.

It was too tight, tighter than when she was alive. My fingers ground together and I pulled back.

She wasn't Naomi anymore. Her eyes were open, white, sinking deep into her skull as I watched. It was time.

I reached into my pockets, expecting to find a weapon but I hadn't put one there. I hadn't prepared. My chest grew tight and I realised as the weight lifted from my shoulders I would be no good on my own.

My name was called again, but much more distant this time. These were my people. They were my friends. They were what I had left in this world. I couldn't see them dead at my hands.

“Sorry, Naomi,” I said, as she rose, letting the covers fall.

I turned to the wardrobe and shoved it, tried to push it aside. It was much heavier this time.

I turned back to Naomi. No, not anymore; turned back to the creature in her body, shoved her cold flesh down to the bed and heaved the wardrobe to the side.

With the door open, the stench was almost too much to handle and I slammed it shut at my back. My stomach heaved and would have poured out if there had been anything waiting.

I called out, my words stirring movement below. I leaned down over the banister. Those weren't my friends milling in the hallway.

Running to the other bedroom, I dragged out the drawer of the wooden dresser and smashed it apart with one hit to the floor.

Holding the plank of wood out in front, I raced down the stairs and called for Andrew. His reply came, but from far away. So distant.

They'd left, gone. What little choice had I given them?

The first creature didn't know what hit it, the wood crushing through the plate of bone between his eyes, falling back, tumbling the others down the stairs behind him.

I leapt over the diagonal banister, landing on a body. It didn't react as I crushed the bone in its chest, no air left to escape. Behind me I saw a queue forming at the door; a long, orderly line, each ready to take the place of the next I took down.

I rushed to the