Read Online HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) by Shane M Brown - Free Book Online
Book: HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) by Shane M Brown
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Authors: Shane M Brown
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woman with a wicked-looking pruning saw collapsed in twitching piles. A second woman tripped over their bodies. A gardening pick skittered from her hands across the deck.
The last man jumped over the still-twitching bodies and threw a short shovel like a javelin.
His aim was dead on.
Worse, King hadn’t expected it.
The shovel hit King clean in the chest. The tool couldn’t penetrate his body armor, but the impact knocked King off-balance precisely as the man lowered his head to charge.
Thuuump!
The man struck with the strength of someone twice his size. King stepped back to plant one boot and correct his balance.
His boot found nothing but open air.
Shit! I’m falling! Where’s the deck?
It certainly wasn’t behind him. All he saw was water. A torrent of white water!
The surf simulator!
He hadn’t realized he’d retreated this far.
Locked together, the men toppled into the water.
SPLASH!
King’s rifle tore from his grasp. The powerful current tossed the men downstream like a couple of dried leaves. Completely underwater, King felt his back sliding rapidly along the bottom of the pool.
Suddenly King was airborne.
The surf simulator spat them into the air and...
SPLASH!
...dumped them into a second pool.
As they hit the water, King kicked off the man. He glimpsed his rifle sliding along the bottom.
Quickly! Grab it!
King reached down, snatched up his rifle, and broke the surface at exactly the same time as the crazy psycho.
The man charged through the waist-deep water at King.
King looked down at the strange shape in his hand.
I didn’t pick up my rifle. I picked up the shovel!
Improvising, he swung the shovel two-handed like a baseball bat.
The shovel was three feet long and felt perfect in his hands.
Clang!
The flat shovel blade impacted the man’s head so hard he landed half-in, half-out of the pool.
King studied the shovel with new respect.
But only for a moment.
In his peripheral vision, movement caught his attention.
He looked around.
A woman on the pool’s edge swung a gardening pick at his head.
King lifted the shovel, but not fast enough. The crazy woman was already halfway through her attack.
King could neither move his head nor block the attack in time.
He turned his head and braced for impact.
The projectile that struck the woman was larger than a conventional bullet. Hitting her squarely in the chest, the projectile flattened and distorted into a two-inch-wide disk. The impact was enough to break ribs and compress her sternum, but not enough to penetrate.
More importantly for King, the force knocked her backward.
Her gardening tool swished past his head so close he felt air turbulence. The woman collapsed backward.
Her head hit the deck.
She didn’t move a muscle.
Forest dashed along the edge of the pool.
His running shot had just saved King’s life.
King surged from the pool.
Forest tossed him back his XREP. It wasn’t wet. It must have landed on the side of the pool.
‘You dropped this,’ said Forest.
King caught the rifle, but didn’t discard the shovel.
He wouldn’t be caught unarmed again.
Erin had never been so pleased to see men with guns.
Running through the ship, she had encountered more and more sick passengers. By the time she reached the water park, a small army of insane people pursued her.
If she stumbled, they would catch her.
If she took a wrong turn, they would kill her.
Only her knowledge of the ship had kept her alive. When she reached the water park and spotted the Marines, her physical reserves were spent. She was flagging desperately, drawing on pure willpower and adrenaline to keep ahead of the incensed mob.
Had the Marines arrived a minute later, she’d have stood no chance.
Even now she realized she couldn’t reach them in time.
She couldn’t reach the Marines, but she could reach the ice cream kiosk.
Cutting left through the water park, she prayed she wouldn’t slip as fountains and water
The last man jumped over the still-twitching bodies and threw a short shovel like a javelin.
His aim was dead on.
Worse, King hadn’t expected it.
The shovel hit King clean in the chest. The tool couldn’t penetrate his body armor, but the impact knocked King off-balance precisely as the man lowered his head to charge.
Thuuump!
The man struck with the strength of someone twice his size. King stepped back to plant one boot and correct his balance.
His boot found nothing but open air.
Shit! I’m falling! Where’s the deck?
It certainly wasn’t behind him. All he saw was water. A torrent of white water!
The surf simulator!
He hadn’t realized he’d retreated this far.
Locked together, the men toppled into the water.
SPLASH!
King’s rifle tore from his grasp. The powerful current tossed the men downstream like a couple of dried leaves. Completely underwater, King felt his back sliding rapidly along the bottom of the pool.
Suddenly King was airborne.
The surf simulator spat them into the air and...
SPLASH!
...dumped them into a second pool.
As they hit the water, King kicked off the man. He glimpsed his rifle sliding along the bottom.
Quickly! Grab it!
King reached down, snatched up his rifle, and broke the surface at exactly the same time as the crazy psycho.
The man charged through the waist-deep water at King.
King looked down at the strange shape in his hand.
I didn’t pick up my rifle. I picked up the shovel!
Improvising, he swung the shovel two-handed like a baseball bat.
The shovel was three feet long and felt perfect in his hands.
Clang!
The flat shovel blade impacted the man’s head so hard he landed half-in, half-out of the pool.
King studied the shovel with new respect.
But only for a moment.
In his peripheral vision, movement caught his attention.
He looked around.
A woman on the pool’s edge swung a gardening pick at his head.
King lifted the shovel, but not fast enough. The crazy woman was already halfway through her attack.
King could neither move his head nor block the attack in time.
He turned his head and braced for impact.
The projectile that struck the woman was larger than a conventional bullet. Hitting her squarely in the chest, the projectile flattened and distorted into a two-inch-wide disk. The impact was enough to break ribs and compress her sternum, but not enough to penetrate.
More importantly for King, the force knocked her backward.
Her gardening tool swished past his head so close he felt air turbulence. The woman collapsed backward.
Her head hit the deck.
She didn’t move a muscle.
Forest dashed along the edge of the pool.
His running shot had just saved King’s life.
King surged from the pool.
Forest tossed him back his XREP. It wasn’t wet. It must have landed on the side of the pool.
‘You dropped this,’ said Forest.
King caught the rifle, but didn’t discard the shovel.
He wouldn’t be caught unarmed again.
Erin had never been so pleased to see men with guns.
Running through the ship, she had encountered more and more sick passengers. By the time she reached the water park, a small army of insane people pursued her.
If she stumbled, they would catch her.
If she took a wrong turn, they would kill her.
Only her knowledge of the ship had kept her alive. When she reached the water park and spotted the Marines, her physical reserves were spent. She was flagging desperately, drawing on pure willpower and adrenaline to keep ahead of the incensed mob.
Had the Marines arrived a minute later, she’d have stood no chance.
Even now she realized she couldn’t reach them in time.
She couldn’t reach the Marines, but she could reach the ice cream kiosk.
Cutting left through the water park, she prayed she wouldn’t slip as fountains and water
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