Read Online Designated (Book 2): Designated Quarantined by Ricky Cooper - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ricky Cooper
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
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a closed fist as he began to ease the door ahead of him open. A soft thump rolled up the stairwell as he connected with the door. Leaning into the thick slab of fireproof wood, he pushed and the door opened another inch; grinding his teeth together, he shoved harder and, to his chagrin, gained naught but another inch.
'Son of a bitch.' Letting his rifle hang, he pushed it onto his back as he grasped the leading edge of the door with both hands and pushed against the doorframe with his foot.
'Token, get a drone in here and see what the hell is blocking this door. I have a feeling I know what it is; just see if you can shift it.'
The miniature helicopter leapt from Token's palm as he sent it through the gap Rook held open, a soft electric whine filling their ears no louder than the buzzing of a gnat as it flitted past Rook's face.
Token stared at the screen as the small bug-like copter relayed all it saw with clarity. Suppressing an acid-filled cough, Token quickly panned the micro camera away from the pile of carrion at the foot of the door and sent the craft zipping down the hall. He glanced up to the top right of the screen, the digital readout displaying twenty-eight minutes and thirty seconds of flight time remaining as he gently guided the craft round a corner.
He quickly sent it zipping towards the ceiling as three dozen Infected fell upon the twisted remnants of one of the porters. The man's hand reflexively opening and closing as one gore-smeared nurse began to gnaw her way deeper into the soft flesh of his forearm, her teeth sending a jittery vibration through the severed limb's fingers as she tore its meat from the bone.
Token gently slipped the Nano UAV forwards a mere inch from the ceiling as the carnival of consumption continued on below. He once more reached the haven of its starting point and Token slipped his hand into the gap, between frame and door, and let the flying camera drop sedately onto his palm before slipping it into the padded case on his thigh, the screen module slipping into the pouch in the small of his back.
Rook cast a glance at Token as the Ghanaian began to speak, his words spiced with the lilt tone of his accent even as he whispered.
'We have, at the very least, a dozen Infected… quite possibly more; and yes, Mr Rook, it is most definitely what you thought it was.'
With a sigh, Rook tossed his head towards the gap, nodding. Ibrahim lifted his weapon's sling from around his torso and handed it off to Lucas as he lowered his limber frame to the floor and began to ease himself through the ever-expanding gap between the door and frame.
With a guttural grunt, he wormed his way through the gap; his muffled curses died on his lips as he came face-to-face with what was blocking the door. The smell of excrement and offal made him wretch as he pushed himself clear of the doorway.
Gingerly, he reached out his gloved hand and grasped the man's lab coat. With a soft squeak of cold flesh over linoleum, he pulled the technician clear of the door. The man's head thunked against the cold floor as he let go of the hem of his lab coat.
Stepping away from the mangled corpse and the streaks of blood and excrement marking the body's passage, he reached out and pulled the other clear of the doorway.
Her head lolled on the smashed remains of her neck. The split and cracked remains of skull left little need to ruminate on how she died. The pair of curved surgical scissors in her hand made Token pause; he glanced from the woman's hands to the deep lacerations in the man's chest and stomach.
'Who killed whom?' His self-rumination broken by the heavy thump of Rook's staggering form and the crunch of the stairwell's door as it swung inwards, smashing into the wall with a heavy, reverberating crunch of plastic on wood.
Their blood froze in their veins as the echoing crash of their entrance was answered by the guttural screaming cries that rolled
'Son of a bitch.' Letting his rifle hang, he pushed it onto his back as he grasped the leading edge of the door with both hands and pushed against the doorframe with his foot.
'Token, get a drone in here and see what the hell is blocking this door. I have a feeling I know what it is; just see if you can shift it.'
The miniature helicopter leapt from Token's palm as he sent it through the gap Rook held open, a soft electric whine filling their ears no louder than the buzzing of a gnat as it flitted past Rook's face.
Token stared at the screen as the small bug-like copter relayed all it saw with clarity. Suppressing an acid-filled cough, Token quickly panned the micro camera away from the pile of carrion at the foot of the door and sent the craft zipping down the hall. He glanced up to the top right of the screen, the digital readout displaying twenty-eight minutes and thirty seconds of flight time remaining as he gently guided the craft round a corner.
He quickly sent it zipping towards the ceiling as three dozen Infected fell upon the twisted remnants of one of the porters. The man's hand reflexively opening and closing as one gore-smeared nurse began to gnaw her way deeper into the soft flesh of his forearm, her teeth sending a jittery vibration through the severed limb's fingers as she tore its meat from the bone.
Token gently slipped the Nano UAV forwards a mere inch from the ceiling as the carnival of consumption continued on below. He once more reached the haven of its starting point and Token slipped his hand into the gap, between frame and door, and let the flying camera drop sedately onto his palm before slipping it into the padded case on his thigh, the screen module slipping into the pouch in the small of his back.
Rook cast a glance at Token as the Ghanaian began to speak, his words spiced with the lilt tone of his accent even as he whispered.
'We have, at the very least, a dozen Infected… quite possibly more; and yes, Mr Rook, it is most definitely what you thought it was.'
With a sigh, Rook tossed his head towards the gap, nodding. Ibrahim lifted his weapon's sling from around his torso and handed it off to Lucas as he lowered his limber frame to the floor and began to ease himself through the ever-expanding gap between the door and frame.
With a guttural grunt, he wormed his way through the gap; his muffled curses died on his lips as he came face-to-face with what was blocking the door. The smell of excrement and offal made him wretch as he pushed himself clear of the doorway.
Gingerly, he reached out his gloved hand and grasped the man's lab coat. With a soft squeak of cold flesh over linoleum, he pulled the technician clear of the door. The man's head thunked against the cold floor as he let go of the hem of his lab coat.
Stepping away from the mangled corpse and the streaks of blood and excrement marking the body's passage, he reached out and pulled the other clear of the doorway.
Her head lolled on the smashed remains of her neck. The split and cracked remains of skull left little need to ruminate on how she died. The pair of curved surgical scissors in her hand made Token pause; he glanced from the woman's hands to the deep lacerations in the man's chest and stomach.
'Who killed whom?' His self-rumination broken by the heavy thump of Rook's staggering form and the crunch of the stairwell's door as it swung inwards, smashing into the wall with a heavy, reverberating crunch of plastic on wood.
Their blood froze in their veins as the echoing crash of their entrance was answered by the guttural screaming cries that rolled
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