Read Online Apocalypsis: Book 1 (Kahayatle) by Elle Casey - Free Book Online

moon that was shining in through the big hole in my back door - the one that used to be covered in panes of glass but was now just a half door on the bottom with a simple frame on top.   He was lying on the ground over our sleeping bags, unconscious.  
    Buster came trotting over, sitting down next to Peter’s face to lick him.   I was worried about him, but patting him down all over his chest and neck to see if he’d been shot revealed no blood anywhere but on his forehead; and I was pretty sure it was from his gun hitting him rather than a bullet, since there wasn’t any hole.   The dummy had knocked himself out with his own weapon.
    I got up and walked over to the door, looking tentatively out of the giant hole.   There was a kid lying on the ground out in the weeds of my yard.   He wasn’t moving but a gurgling sound was coming up from his chest.   I was kind of bummed to find that my hearing had returned to normal at that point.   His death gasps sounded wet and disgusting, continuing for a few seconds before finally stopping with one last, faint wheeze.
    “Holy shit,” I whispered, “you killed him, Peter.”
    Peter didn’t hear me.   He was too busy being unconscious, and I was glad for him.   I’m not sure he would have been able to handle this part.  
    I stepped outside the back door, shoving it hard against the kid’s legs to get it open.   I crept up to him as quietly as I could, grabbing him by the arms and dragging him over to the side of the house.   We weren’t going to have time to bury him or do anything else with him for that matter, but I didn’t want him blocking access into and out of my house.   The idea of eating him flitted through my mind and made me almost vomit on his bloody chest.   No matter how hungry I got, I knew that was never going to be an option for me.   There were just too many other things I knew I could find.   Hell, I could go live in an orange grove and eat oranges for the rest of my life.   Anything but another human being.
    I went back inside and locked the door.   It seemed silly, now that there was a hole in it so big someone could climb right through, but I felt safer anyway.   We had Buster, the wonder dog, watching over his lame-ass pack.  
    I sat down next to Peter, determined to stay awake until the sunrise, watching over him and the hole in my door.   I felt his pulse and it was beating nice and strong with a steady rhythm, making me feel a lot better about his prospects.  
    Buster came over and climbed into my lap, giving me a few licks on the hand before resting his chin on my forearm.   I absently petted his fuzzy back as he snored softly, trying to figure out how we were going to get the heck out of there with Peter’s injury and our piles of crap, before those raiders came back to finish the job they’d started or get revenge for their fallen comrade.  
    Lines from George’s journal haunted me as I waited for the sun to come up.
    ***
    I looked up at Peter to ask him a question and tried not to laugh at his face.   He had a huge bruise on his forehead with a knot the size of a ping pong ball in center of it.
    “Stop laughing at me.   It’s rude.”   He was busy pushing things into his backpack.
    “No, stop, you’re doing it wrong,” I said, trying not to sound frustrated.   He was useless at this part of our planning.   My dad’s training was earning huge points from me today.   “You have to conserve space.   Condense it down into the smallest footprint possible.”   I got a little choked up at the end, hearing my dad’s voice echo in my own words.   I used to get so mad at him saying that over and over.   Why did I hate it so much?   I couldn’t remember now.
    “I’m trying.   I just have a monster headache,” said Peter, slumping to the ground.
    I pushed him gently, easily knocking him over.   “Lay down.   Take a nap.   I’ll finish this.”
    We’d decided that we had to leave later today.   This