Read Online AZU-1: Lifehack by Joseph Picard - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joseph Picard
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second, and then the mounds of flesh moved and churned,
putting more of itself in the way of Regan’s attack. It was using
its flesh to defend whatever that cable belonged to and the P90
wasn’t getting through. Of course it was hard to tell even through
the scope, but repeated rounds just seemed to hit like pebbles
sinking into mud.
Small groups of zombies that she hadn’t
noticed before were joining in from most directions. Directly
behind her still presented a clear path, and if she didn’t take it
now, she’s be swamped soon enough. The zombies were still a fair
way away but she had seen how these openings had a way of
disappearing quickly. She pulled herself together and bolted.
Looking back over her shoulder for a moment, she saw Harold’s
window. She’d have to come back but she’d need a little help. She
knew where to get it, too.
~~~
Making her way though the city was
slowly becoming routine. The aggravations of dodging groups of
zombies and staying sharp for the stragglers was no less hazardous,
but she was getting a sense for how they behaved in
general.
They didn’t tend to pay close attention
to her if she was far enough away, unless she made a big sound.
That wasn’t the kind of thing she wanted to bet on though. Their
random ambling around made any non-secure places a risk to linger
in. It was starting to make a bit of sense. At least it had a
pattern. They liked to be near others. They ambled around and if
they found other zombies, they’d stick together for a while, often
creating these big mobs. If they instead found someone alive, well…
yeah. Chomp. Welcome to the club. It was all very
heartwarming.
Regan felt her little head wound. She
didn’t want to be in the club. It had been quite a while now. Did
she manage to avoid getting infected, or did a small wound just
take longer to convert you?
Some aspects of their behavior were a
little beyond her. Many of them seemed attracted to truly tacky
things. As she traveled, she spotted a mound of bodies, some
motionless, some shifting. Sticking out of the mound were about two
dozen pink, plastic, flamingo lawn ornaments. Zombie art.
Wonderful.
She made it to her destination, the
crashed airlimb. It was much as she left it, minus the mob that
chased her away.
The two zombies she’d gunned down were
still there on the ground, but they looked like they’d been
decaying for ages, not overnight. Even the skeletal structure
appeared to be rotting. Exposed bones were much thinner. The head
and rib cages seemed far more collapsed than her shots would seem
to account for.
Regan decided to keep clear in case
they were somehow diseased. This precaution felt a little silly
given the bite on the back of her head, but it didn’t hurt to keep
clear of them.
She went back to the armoury
compartment, and uncovered the container she had seen before. ‘AP
MASS IMPACT ACCELERATOR’. She knew AP meant ‘armour piercing’.
Hopefully it would apply to fleshy armour. She pulled the
dull-green metal container out to get a better look at it. About a
meter long and thirty centimeters wide, it had little wheels on one
end and a handle on the other so it could be dragged along like
luggage.
Ignoring that for now, she opened the
little latches on one side and flipped open the lid. To her dismay,
it wasn’t assembled and ready to go. It was in about seven large
pieces and had a sub-compartment of at least thirty little bits and
pieces. And no instructions.
She looked around the rest of the
armoury for any kind of manual, but nothing useful could be found.
A little label on the lining of the case pointed to the edge of the
lining and said ‘AMMUNITION’. Sure enough, by lifting the edge
Regan saw six large ‘bullets’, a couple centimeters across and
about twelve centimeters long.
That would have to be enough, since no
more were to be found around the airlimb. She tinkered with the
parts a bit, but it was soon apparent that it would take a long
time to
putting more of itself in the way of Regan’s attack. It was using
its flesh to defend whatever that cable belonged to and the P90
wasn’t getting through. Of course it was hard to tell even through
the scope, but repeated rounds just seemed to hit like pebbles
sinking into mud.
Small groups of zombies that she hadn’t
noticed before were joining in from most directions. Directly
behind her still presented a clear path, and if she didn’t take it
now, she’s be swamped soon enough. The zombies were still a fair
way away but she had seen how these openings had a way of
disappearing quickly. She pulled herself together and bolted.
Looking back over her shoulder for a moment, she saw Harold’s
window. She’d have to come back but she’d need a little help. She
knew where to get it, too.
~~~
Making her way though the city was
slowly becoming routine. The aggravations of dodging groups of
zombies and staying sharp for the stragglers was no less hazardous,
but she was getting a sense for how they behaved in
general.
They didn’t tend to pay close attention
to her if she was far enough away, unless she made a big sound.
That wasn’t the kind of thing she wanted to bet on though. Their
random ambling around made any non-secure places a risk to linger
in. It was starting to make a bit of sense. At least it had a
pattern. They liked to be near others. They ambled around and if
they found other zombies, they’d stick together for a while, often
creating these big mobs. If they instead found someone alive, well…
yeah. Chomp. Welcome to the club. It was all very
heartwarming.
Regan felt her little head wound. She
didn’t want to be in the club. It had been quite a while now. Did
she manage to avoid getting infected, or did a small wound just
take longer to convert you?
Some aspects of their behavior were a
little beyond her. Many of them seemed attracted to truly tacky
things. As she traveled, she spotted a mound of bodies, some
motionless, some shifting. Sticking out of the mound were about two
dozen pink, plastic, flamingo lawn ornaments. Zombie art.
Wonderful.
She made it to her destination, the
crashed airlimb. It was much as she left it, minus the mob that
chased her away.
The two zombies she’d gunned down were
still there on the ground, but they looked like they’d been
decaying for ages, not overnight. Even the skeletal structure
appeared to be rotting. Exposed bones were much thinner. The head
and rib cages seemed far more collapsed than her shots would seem
to account for.
Regan decided to keep clear in case
they were somehow diseased. This precaution felt a little silly
given the bite on the back of her head, but it didn’t hurt to keep
clear of them.
She went back to the armoury
compartment, and uncovered the container she had seen before. ‘AP
MASS IMPACT ACCELERATOR’. She knew AP meant ‘armour piercing’.
Hopefully it would apply to fleshy armour. She pulled the
dull-green metal container out to get a better look at it. About a
meter long and thirty centimeters wide, it had little wheels on one
end and a handle on the other so it could be dragged along like
luggage.
Ignoring that for now, she opened the
little latches on one side and flipped open the lid. To her dismay,
it wasn’t assembled and ready to go. It was in about seven large
pieces and had a sub-compartment of at least thirty little bits and
pieces. And no instructions.
She looked around the rest of the
armoury for any kind of manual, but nothing useful could be found.
A little label on the lining of the case pointed to the edge of the
lining and said ‘AMMUNITION’. Sure enough, by lifting the edge
Regan saw six large ‘bullets’, a couple centimeters across and
about twelve centimeters long.
That would have to be enough, since no
more were to be found around the airlimb. She tinkered with the
parts a bit, but it was soon apparent that it would take a long
time to
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