Read Online Books of the Dead (Book 1): Sanctuary From The Dead by R.J. Spears - Free Book Online

hallway, probably a closet or pantry.  Without thinking, Brandon opened the door.  No one really knew why he did it and even later he couldn’t tell us why he acted so casually. 
    A form shot out the door and was on Brandon before he could react.  Stunned, he fell back as the form slammed into him, knocking him against the wall, his sword falling from his hand, clattering to the floor.  Because the door opened out, Mike was blocked from getting to Brandon, so it was my job to come to his rescue. 
    I was down the hall in two strides and saw a small boy clawing at Brandon’s face, hissing and snarling.  Brandon used his arms to keep the boy at bay, but the boy creature had ferocity and gravity on his side as he desperately clutched at Brandon.  
    I grabbed the collar of the little boy’s shirt and yanked him.  The boy’s small body crashed into a wall of canned goods, sending a shower of cans down on him.  He shrugged them off and was back on his feet in less than two seconds.  As he reached the threshold of the door, I pulled my bat back and thrust it forward in a stabbing motion catching the boy in the chest knocking him backwards onto the floor again.  As he struggled to get back up, I saw a festering bite mark on his forearm knowing it was probably what turned him from living to undead.
    Instead of repeating my attack, I grabbed the door and slammed it shut just as the boy hit it with all of his weight.  The door rocked against my hand s, but held.  The boy pounded on the door, grunting with each impact.
    I felt something move behind me and turned to see Aaron helping Brandon up.
    “Are you bit?” he asked Brandon. 
    “No, no,” Brandon said, his voice shaky.  “I don’t think so.”
    Mike was there now.  “What were you thinking -- opening the door like that?”
    Brandon had a bewildered look on his face.  “I don’t know.  I just heard the noise and decided to open the door.”
    “You weren’t thinking.  You could have...” Mike started, but then stopped.  “You’ve got a scratch on your face,” Mike said.
    Brandon shot a gloved hand to his face, wiping at his cheek, and coming away with a small swipe of blood.  A new surge a fear shot through us.  A bite was always fatal.  Scratches could go either way.  Up until now we hadn’t lost anyone to a superficial scratch , but the deep gouges were almost always a death sentence.  Brandon reached down frantically patting the pockets of his pants.
    “Stop,” Mike said knocking Brandon’s hands away and getting in his face.  “First breath.  Breath.  Five deep breaths.” 
    Brandon couldn’t hold down his panic so Mike shook him firmly but gently.  “You’ve got to calm down and breath.  Do it.”
    Brandon forced himself to shut his eyes and his body calmed as he started taking deep full in/full out breaths. 
    “Joel, give me your antiseptic,” Mike said.  Antiseptic was another standard field necessity.  We had no idea if it really killed any of the virus or germs these things carried, but it was standard and mandatory practice to clean a scratch wound as soon as possible.  The effect of the antiseptic might be a placebo, but it was better than doing nothing. 
    “I doubt that kid had anything under his fingernails,” Aaron said.  “He’s probably been in that pantry since the Outbreak.  Probably got bit and either hid in there or was put in there by a parent.”
    As if on cue, we heard footsteps coming from below us.
    “Get that antiseptic on,” Mike said.  “Joel, come with me.  Aaron, stay with Brandon.”  Mike headed down the hallway.  He passed the top of the stairs, but motioned for me to hang.  He stood there, bat at the ready.  I mirrored him on the other side of the stairwell.
    Whatever was coming up the stairs had an irregular gait, taking forever to get up to us.  I doubt if it was impatience speaking inside me, but more the fear.  I was certainly wasn’t eager to see another