Read Online Blood Trilogy (Book 2): Draw Blood by Jason Bovberg - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jason Bovberg
Ads: Link
Michael’s embrace and moves toward Joel. She grasps his forearm with both hands.
“Joel, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t—”
“Now, no—” He tries to shrug her off, but she holds fast.
“—I was in shock, all right? I still am, probably. I couldn’t—process. So I fucked up. But I’m trying to make it right.”
Joel visibly softens and manages to remove her hands. Michael knows that there’s still a lot beneath this cop’s surface, and it’s directed at Rachel.
Kevin walks up. “We’re ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“We’re gonna test that motherfucker upstairs, inject it, see what happens.”
Joel looks from Rachel to Michael to Kevin.
“To wake him up?”
“To bring him back to life,” Rachel says.
“Now hold on, just wait a goddamn second.” He raises one hand authoritatively. “The man in that room is a felon.”
Rachel looks stunned. “He’s a human being.”
Joel steels himself. “Not what I was getting at—but Jesus, couldn’t you have a picked a better specimen for your test?”
“Hey, we might be really lucky that there was a prisoner here at all.”
He looks at her for a long moment. “Point taken, but shit .”
“All right, then, let’s go.”
Chapter 6
In moments, the group has reassembled, and everything is ready. The loose team walks up the stairs purposefully, quiet as they tread the barren hallway and approach the closed door. Arriving, they exchange glances. Rachel and Bonnie have blood-filled syringes at the ready—they look huge, perhaps 100 milliliters. Kevin and Michael are holding big wads of starchy hospital blankets in front of them as if they’re looking to capture some kind of wild game, and Joel is to the side. The cop now holds a tactical shotgun, loaded, aimed low and tight. The three girls remain behind them, ready to jump in if they’re needed.
There are only subtle movements coming from inside the room, sounding like halfhearted attempts to escape the handcuffs.
“Ready to get this done?” Kevin says.
Nods all around.
He takes hold of the handle and swings the door in.
The inverted corpse whips its head around to face them, hissing an unearthly gasp. On top of the odors of human waste and filth, Michael smells something like dry rot coming from the open mouth—the smell of poor teeth, poor health. The odors have filled the room. The survivors around him frown with disgust.
“That hand is close to coming off.” Joel edges his way in, his weapon trained on the thing’s head. “Get on in here.”
Kevin leads Michael in, cautiously, and they step around the corpse, surrounding it but not getting too close. It watches them, one at a time, back and forth, its eyes wide and red and dry. Michael takes a look at the hand, and yes, it’s connected to the arm by mere tendons now, the flesh hanging in strands, veins dripping sluggishly. There’s a Rorschach pattern of swiped blood beneath the corpse, and its skin is pale, almost gray. He wonders if, given time, the thing might just expire from blood loss.
But the blood dripping from the nearly severed hand is more akin to thickened oil than blood.
“Remember—don’t let that head get near you,” Bonnie reminds them for the third time. “We should probably get some vests from an x-ray room.” Her voice is filled with uncertainty, and Michael knows she’s directing her words at him.
“I got it.”
Just as he speaks, the corpse furiously thrashes its whole body. There’s a sickeningly loud snap as the final tendon is severed and the dismembered hand falls to the floor. The thing is abruptly a whirling dervish of chaotic anger, screaming through its ragged throat, its bent-backward limbs swiping at the floor, its arm stump painting broad red strokes on the tiles, and it’s rushing toward them, hobbled but quick. The entire group rears back, and Joel brings up the shotgun as the corpse prepares to lunge.
“No! Don’t kill it!” Kevin shouts at the cop. “We got
“Joel, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t—”
“Now, no—” He tries to shrug her off, but she holds fast.
“—I was in shock, all right? I still am, probably. I couldn’t—process. So I fucked up. But I’m trying to make it right.”
Joel visibly softens and manages to remove her hands. Michael knows that there’s still a lot beneath this cop’s surface, and it’s directed at Rachel.
Kevin walks up. “We’re ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“We’re gonna test that motherfucker upstairs, inject it, see what happens.”
Joel looks from Rachel to Michael to Kevin.
“To wake him up?”
“To bring him back to life,” Rachel says.
“Now hold on, just wait a goddamn second.” He raises one hand authoritatively. “The man in that room is a felon.”
Rachel looks stunned. “He’s a human being.”
Joel steels himself. “Not what I was getting at—but Jesus, couldn’t you have a picked a better specimen for your test?”
“Hey, we might be really lucky that there was a prisoner here at all.”
He looks at her for a long moment. “Point taken, but shit .”
“All right, then, let’s go.”
Chapter 6
In moments, the group has reassembled, and everything is ready. The loose team walks up the stairs purposefully, quiet as they tread the barren hallway and approach the closed door. Arriving, they exchange glances. Rachel and Bonnie have blood-filled syringes at the ready—they look huge, perhaps 100 milliliters. Kevin and Michael are holding big wads of starchy hospital blankets in front of them as if they’re looking to capture some kind of wild game, and Joel is to the side. The cop now holds a tactical shotgun, loaded, aimed low and tight. The three girls remain behind them, ready to jump in if they’re needed.
There are only subtle movements coming from inside the room, sounding like halfhearted attempts to escape the handcuffs.
“Ready to get this done?” Kevin says.
Nods all around.
He takes hold of the handle and swings the door in.
The inverted corpse whips its head around to face them, hissing an unearthly gasp. On top of the odors of human waste and filth, Michael smells something like dry rot coming from the open mouth—the smell of poor teeth, poor health. The odors have filled the room. The survivors around him frown with disgust.
“That hand is close to coming off.” Joel edges his way in, his weapon trained on the thing’s head. “Get on in here.”
Kevin leads Michael in, cautiously, and they step around the corpse, surrounding it but not getting too close. It watches them, one at a time, back and forth, its eyes wide and red and dry. Michael takes a look at the hand, and yes, it’s connected to the arm by mere tendons now, the flesh hanging in strands, veins dripping sluggishly. There’s a Rorschach pattern of swiped blood beneath the corpse, and its skin is pale, almost gray. He wonders if, given time, the thing might just expire from blood loss.
But the blood dripping from the nearly severed hand is more akin to thickened oil than blood.
“Remember—don’t let that head get near you,” Bonnie reminds them for the third time. “We should probably get some vests from an x-ray room.” Her voice is filled with uncertainty, and Michael knows she’s directing her words at him.
“I got it.”
Just as he speaks, the corpse furiously thrashes its whole body. There’s a sickeningly loud snap as the final tendon is severed and the dismembered hand falls to the floor. The thing is abruptly a whirling dervish of chaotic anger, screaming through its ragged throat, its bent-backward limbs swiping at the floor, its arm stump painting broad red strokes on the tiles, and it’s rushing toward them, hobbled but quick. The entire group rears back, and Joel brings up the shotgun as the corpse prepares to lunge.
“No! Don’t kill it!” Kevin shouts at the cop. “We got
Similar Books
