Read Online 100 Days of Death by Ray Ellingsen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ray Ellingsen
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
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then that I remembered my carbine had only fired once and stopped working. I looked down to see that the magazine was missing from its well. I drew out another magazine and slammed it home. I chambered a round, aimed into the ground and tapped the trigger twice. The weapon whapped twice and two rounds tore into the dirt. Chloe jumped at the sound.
I brought the weapon back on line. My body started shivering. It was either because of the adrenaline or the fact that I was soaking wet, I couldn’t be sure which. I still wasn’t even sure what had just happened.
I knew I had seriously screwed up. I walked back to the garage and threw the garage door open all the way. On the garage floor was a body lying face down. The entire back of its head was missing. I put a toe into its mid-section and lifted, turning it over.
I was shocked. It was Dale, my next door neighbor. I never got along with that asshole even when he was alive. I guess I now knew who had eaten Margie. As I stared down at him I lapsed into a coughing fit from all the water I inhaled. The rain began pouring down in sheets. A flash of lightning lit up the sky. Thunder rumbled slowly in its wake.
As soon as my coughing subsided, I brought my weapon up again and scanned the area carefully. I didn’t plan on getting caught with my pants down twice. The back door to my kitchen was closed, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Chloe and I cleared the house room by room, dripping water everywhere. I left the dog inside when I went back out into the pouring rain. It was dark out so I switched on the Surefire light attached to the side rail on my weapon.
I slowly made my way around the entire perimeter of my house, checking every nook and cranny. I even looked up in the trees. I checked the garage once more and then dragged Dale’s fat carcass out into the driveway before securing the garage door. I stood on my driveway breathing heavily, soaked to the bone. My head hurt and my knee was throbbing.
I sniffed. It looked like my cold was coming back for round 2. Lightning flashed again, and in the momentary strobe I caught sight of something sitting drenched and forlorn on the driveway…Of course, it was the f---ing box containing the propane kit.
DAY(S) 16, 17
I haven’t had much chance to keep up with this journal for the past couple days, as I have been busy dealing with my new houseguest.
I guess I should bring things up to speed.
After my encounter with Dale out in the garage the other night I went into the house to check out how much damage I had done to myself.
During the fight I managed to lacerate the side of my head, dislocate my right pinky finger (I didn’t even know about that until I took off my shirt and caught it in the material, bending it even worse), screw up my knee even more, and acquire an assortment of cuts and bruises.
I cleaned and reset everything, showered (not much water pressure, but at least it was hot) and sat down at the table with a bowl of steaming soup. I was on the couch reading through Paul Miller’s Boom and at some point fell asleep.
The next thing I remembered was waking up to the sound of Chloe’s low growl. It was a little after 3am and still pouring down rain. I was completely disoriented, but had the presence of mind to shut the dog up. I grabbed her scruff and reached for my 1911 pistol. It took me a minute to realize what she was growling at. Over the sound of rain on my roof I could hear someone shaking my front gate. At first I thought it might be the wind, but the sound was too consistent.
My adrenaline went into overdrive when I heard someone outside call my name. I froze for a minute, unsure of what to do. Chloe had no reservations. She pulled against my grip, eager to chew up and crap out whoever was outside. I moved toward the front door at a crouch, Chloe pulling me along the whole way.
At the front door I switched out my Colt for the 870 Shotgun leaning up against the wall. I yanked at Chloe’s scruff and
I brought the weapon back on line. My body started shivering. It was either because of the adrenaline or the fact that I was soaking wet, I couldn’t be sure which. I still wasn’t even sure what had just happened.
I knew I had seriously screwed up. I walked back to the garage and threw the garage door open all the way. On the garage floor was a body lying face down. The entire back of its head was missing. I put a toe into its mid-section and lifted, turning it over.
I was shocked. It was Dale, my next door neighbor. I never got along with that asshole even when he was alive. I guess I now knew who had eaten Margie. As I stared down at him I lapsed into a coughing fit from all the water I inhaled. The rain began pouring down in sheets. A flash of lightning lit up the sky. Thunder rumbled slowly in its wake.
As soon as my coughing subsided, I brought my weapon up again and scanned the area carefully. I didn’t plan on getting caught with my pants down twice. The back door to my kitchen was closed, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Chloe and I cleared the house room by room, dripping water everywhere. I left the dog inside when I went back out into the pouring rain. It was dark out so I switched on the Surefire light attached to the side rail on my weapon.
I slowly made my way around the entire perimeter of my house, checking every nook and cranny. I even looked up in the trees. I checked the garage once more and then dragged Dale’s fat carcass out into the driveway before securing the garage door. I stood on my driveway breathing heavily, soaked to the bone. My head hurt and my knee was throbbing.
I sniffed. It looked like my cold was coming back for round 2. Lightning flashed again, and in the momentary strobe I caught sight of something sitting drenched and forlorn on the driveway…Of course, it was the f---ing box containing the propane kit.
DAY(S) 16, 17
I haven’t had much chance to keep up with this journal for the past couple days, as I have been busy dealing with my new houseguest.
I guess I should bring things up to speed.
After my encounter with Dale out in the garage the other night I went into the house to check out how much damage I had done to myself.
During the fight I managed to lacerate the side of my head, dislocate my right pinky finger (I didn’t even know about that until I took off my shirt and caught it in the material, bending it even worse), screw up my knee even more, and acquire an assortment of cuts and bruises.
I cleaned and reset everything, showered (not much water pressure, but at least it was hot) and sat down at the table with a bowl of steaming soup. I was on the couch reading through Paul Miller’s Boom and at some point fell asleep.
The next thing I remembered was waking up to the sound of Chloe’s low growl. It was a little after 3am and still pouring down rain. I was completely disoriented, but had the presence of mind to shut the dog up. I grabbed her scruff and reached for my 1911 pistol. It took me a minute to realize what she was growling at. Over the sound of rain on my roof I could hear someone shaking my front gate. At first I thought it might be the wind, but the sound was too consistent.
My adrenaline went into overdrive when I heard someone outside call my name. I froze for a minute, unsure of what to do. Chloe had no reservations. She pulled against my grip, eager to chew up and crap out whoever was outside. I moved toward the front door at a crouch, Chloe pulling me along the whole way.
At the front door I switched out my Colt for the 870 Shotgun leaning up against the wall. I yanked at Chloe’s scruff and
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