Read Online Infected Freaks (Book 2): The Echo of Decay by Jason Borrego - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jason Borrego
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
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could feel his heart working overtime. Touching the surface of his shirt, it felt rough and thin. He turned back and glared at her, baring his teeth.
“Once we get inside, it’ll be dark. Whatever you do, don’t turn on any light.”
She peeled her hand off his back and nodded. She knew about the light and the danger it brought. Panic was not an option. Survival followed the swift and smooth thinker in the new world. There were plenty of serviceable weapons back in Bob’s garage. Still, Sam preferred the crossbow. She could do a lot of silent damage from a distance. Distance was a friend in dealing with the freaks. The thought of getting close to one brought a quiver all the way to her tailbone. Nonetheless, if she needed to get close to kill it, she wouldn’t think twice. But Abraham told her she might need to use the weapon on one of the mechanics. This only confused her.
Sam scanned the shattered school yard. A handful of infected freaks skittered around in a playground to the right. The broken swings trudged forward and backward as the monsters staggered between. One of the freaks, a child, waddled toward them, almost unrecognizable beneath the infusing fungi. Spores seeped from the thing’s gaping mouth. The rim was stained with the remains of the monster’s last meal. Blood clung to its curls like morning dew and its eyes were empty sockets stuffed with fist-sized mushrooms. The playground had become a communal jungle of horrors.
A sudden snap of thunder directed the dead boy’s attention away. Sam sighed. She didn’t know if she had the grit to murder a child. It was hard to imagine such a place teeming in the playful screams of children running up and down in joy and adventure.
To the left, she saw a loading dock with an eighteen-wheeler backed into and through the building. In an instant, Scott shot to his feet, putting as much force as he could behind his sprint. A wave of fear tingled Sam’s senses. An upsurge of discomfort crept up her thighs as she bounced up the front of the semi-truck, trying to keep pace. The icy touch of the metal drove her farther down the crashed semi’s spine. At the far end was a narrow opening between, and when Scott disappeared into the darkness of the school, she had no choice but to follow.
Sam tensed, ready to fight as her shoes stung against the ground. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the dominating darkness. Minutes passed. She listened to her soft breaths over the tick of her heart. At that moment, the images of the room took shape. She followed Scott across the daunting space to the central hallway of the devastated school house. Sam eyeballed the door to a sealed lunchroom. The moans of the dead pierced the sound waves in a nightmarish manner. The doors were loosely chained closed and rattled under the weight of the prisoners.
Being trapped in a school stuffed with infected children was almost too much for her to handle. She ran forward and struggled to keep up with Scott. All of the shadows blended in a maddening fashion. Dazed, she tripped over the spine of a textbook. The edge of her crossbow clashed against the wall in an uncomfortable clout. The sound brought a frightful silence. She felt the echo of the hallway magnify her footsteps to the point she stopped. Then the screams of the infected came barreling down the hall. She imagined a bat and the way it sensed its surroundings using sonar. The freaks had similar qualities.
Here they come. She froze, unable to move or breathe. Scott hurried back and took her hand when she didn’t move. He mumbled something under his breath, registering his displeasure. The reverberations of the dead ran up and down the walls. One thing was certain; the freaks were coming toward the distinct sound she foolishly made. Scott dipped out of the hall and into a modest storage closet, dragging Sam like a bag of dead weight. He kept the door cracked to view the hall.
“Close the door,” she whispered.
“Shut your
“Once we get inside, it’ll be dark. Whatever you do, don’t turn on any light.”
She peeled her hand off his back and nodded. She knew about the light and the danger it brought. Panic was not an option. Survival followed the swift and smooth thinker in the new world. There were plenty of serviceable weapons back in Bob’s garage. Still, Sam preferred the crossbow. She could do a lot of silent damage from a distance. Distance was a friend in dealing with the freaks. The thought of getting close to one brought a quiver all the way to her tailbone. Nonetheless, if she needed to get close to kill it, she wouldn’t think twice. But Abraham told her she might need to use the weapon on one of the mechanics. This only confused her.
Sam scanned the shattered school yard. A handful of infected freaks skittered around in a playground to the right. The broken swings trudged forward and backward as the monsters staggered between. One of the freaks, a child, waddled toward them, almost unrecognizable beneath the infusing fungi. Spores seeped from the thing’s gaping mouth. The rim was stained with the remains of the monster’s last meal. Blood clung to its curls like morning dew and its eyes were empty sockets stuffed with fist-sized mushrooms. The playground had become a communal jungle of horrors.
A sudden snap of thunder directed the dead boy’s attention away. Sam sighed. She didn’t know if she had the grit to murder a child. It was hard to imagine such a place teeming in the playful screams of children running up and down in joy and adventure.
To the left, she saw a loading dock with an eighteen-wheeler backed into and through the building. In an instant, Scott shot to his feet, putting as much force as he could behind his sprint. A wave of fear tingled Sam’s senses. An upsurge of discomfort crept up her thighs as she bounced up the front of the semi-truck, trying to keep pace. The icy touch of the metal drove her farther down the crashed semi’s spine. At the far end was a narrow opening between, and when Scott disappeared into the darkness of the school, she had no choice but to follow.
Sam tensed, ready to fight as her shoes stung against the ground. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the dominating darkness. Minutes passed. She listened to her soft breaths over the tick of her heart. At that moment, the images of the room took shape. She followed Scott across the daunting space to the central hallway of the devastated school house. Sam eyeballed the door to a sealed lunchroom. The moans of the dead pierced the sound waves in a nightmarish manner. The doors were loosely chained closed and rattled under the weight of the prisoners.
Being trapped in a school stuffed with infected children was almost too much for her to handle. She ran forward and struggled to keep up with Scott. All of the shadows blended in a maddening fashion. Dazed, she tripped over the spine of a textbook. The edge of her crossbow clashed against the wall in an uncomfortable clout. The sound brought a frightful silence. She felt the echo of the hallway magnify her footsteps to the point she stopped. Then the screams of the infected came barreling down the hall. She imagined a bat and the way it sensed its surroundings using sonar. The freaks had similar qualities.
Here they come. She froze, unable to move or breathe. Scott hurried back and took her hand when she didn’t move. He mumbled something under his breath, registering his displeasure. The reverberations of the dead ran up and down the walls. One thing was certain; the freaks were coming toward the distinct sound she foolishly made. Scott dipped out of the hall and into a modest storage closet, dragging Sam like a bag of dead weight. He kept the door cracked to view the hall.
“Close the door,” she whispered.
“Shut your
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