Read Online LZR-1143 (Book 4): Desolation by Bryan James - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Bryan James
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
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front of the truck and headed her off. Without another glance I moved into the trees, weapon up and eyes glued to the distance. I whistled once, as I got nearly twenty yards in, trying to watch my footing around fallen trees, earth berms, and dangling branches. Romeo responded once, and I took my bearing from his bark.
It was a quiet wood, and the sound of branches dropping in the distance kept me alert. A whisper of wind passed through the branches, and I could hear nothing but the rustling leaves and pine needles and my own soft footfalls.
Nearly eighty yards from the road, the trees thinned as I climbed a small rise, and I noticed a woodpile and a rusted ax at the edge of the small plateau. Neatly split logs covered the ground where the earthquake had thrown them about, and several large trees had fallen in to converge on one another in a small clearing. A narrow dirt road wound away on the other side of the clearing, up further into the mountains, while a small wooden cabin—barely the size of a large shed—stood cold and empty ahead of me. Green shingles hung haphazardly from the roof, many having been shaken loose recently, and a short length of cement steps led to the single door, bracketed on either side by small, grimy windows, one of which had clearly been broken out by the earthquake.
Romeo’s nose found my left hand before I heard him, and I cursed as he fell into me with excitement.
“This better be good, man,” I whispered softly, eyes scanning the area quickly.
He grunted once, and with a flip of his tail, he disappeared behind the small cabin.
No smoke from the chimney. No recent use of the axe. No car in the driveway. Maybe it was abandoned.
In the distance, the rumble and glow of the still-erupting volcano cast a pall on the night sky, and the cloud of ash and smoke was pushing itself in front of the faint moonlight. I kept my eyes down to maintain my night vision, and moving quietly, followed the idiot dog into the darkness.
CHAPTER FIVE
I just go for the breakfast buffet...
The ground was uneven behind the small cabin, and it took me a moment to realize what Romeo was showing me.
It was a body.
A human, non-zombie, body.
Flannel and jeans underneath a thick coat, with a pistol still clutched in one hand. A bullet hole in the chest, and eyes open and staring, the large man was slumped against the rear wall of the small structure, an armload of twigs strewn out next to his free hand. He must have been out gathering firewood when he was shot.
But why?
In this age of tidal waves and zombies, a regular murder seemed close to inconceivable—and certainly a wanton waste of a very rare human life. The murderer hadn’t taken the victim’s pistol, hadn’t raided the firewood—hadn’t done any of the things that we associated with our new world.
They had simply ended this man’s life.
From a distance I heard a single pop. A gunshot.
“Okay, buddy, time to go,” I said, and began to jog toward the woods. Romeo got the hint, and nosed at the body once before following.
I didn’t bother with silence on this route, and bulled through the brush and branches straight ahead, letting them whip me as I passed through, under and over. I could hear Romeo trotting behind, spryly clearing even the largest piles of debris.
The road came into view and I slowed as I saw Kate leaning from the passenger’s side door, standing on the frame and scanning the woods.
I whistled the first few notes of the 70’s rock song we had agreed on as our identification tune a week ago, and she raised her weapon and spoke quickly.
“You hear that?” she asked.
“Why do you think I ran? I’m too lazy for that shit without a reason.”
She continued her scan, eyes sharp.
“I think we should keep moving,” she said. “Something about this area—I don’t know. It just feels wrong.”
I opened the driver’s side door and got in, waiting for Romeo to
It was a quiet wood, and the sound of branches dropping in the distance kept me alert. A whisper of wind passed through the branches, and I could hear nothing but the rustling leaves and pine needles and my own soft footfalls.
Nearly eighty yards from the road, the trees thinned as I climbed a small rise, and I noticed a woodpile and a rusted ax at the edge of the small plateau. Neatly split logs covered the ground where the earthquake had thrown them about, and several large trees had fallen in to converge on one another in a small clearing. A narrow dirt road wound away on the other side of the clearing, up further into the mountains, while a small wooden cabin—barely the size of a large shed—stood cold and empty ahead of me. Green shingles hung haphazardly from the roof, many having been shaken loose recently, and a short length of cement steps led to the single door, bracketed on either side by small, grimy windows, one of which had clearly been broken out by the earthquake.
Romeo’s nose found my left hand before I heard him, and I cursed as he fell into me with excitement.
“This better be good, man,” I whispered softly, eyes scanning the area quickly.
He grunted once, and with a flip of his tail, he disappeared behind the small cabin.
No smoke from the chimney. No recent use of the axe. No car in the driveway. Maybe it was abandoned.
In the distance, the rumble and glow of the still-erupting volcano cast a pall on the night sky, and the cloud of ash and smoke was pushing itself in front of the faint moonlight. I kept my eyes down to maintain my night vision, and moving quietly, followed the idiot dog into the darkness.
CHAPTER FIVE
I just go for the breakfast buffet...
The ground was uneven behind the small cabin, and it took me a moment to realize what Romeo was showing me.
It was a body.
A human, non-zombie, body.
Flannel and jeans underneath a thick coat, with a pistol still clutched in one hand. A bullet hole in the chest, and eyes open and staring, the large man was slumped against the rear wall of the small structure, an armload of twigs strewn out next to his free hand. He must have been out gathering firewood when he was shot.
But why?
In this age of tidal waves and zombies, a regular murder seemed close to inconceivable—and certainly a wanton waste of a very rare human life. The murderer hadn’t taken the victim’s pistol, hadn’t raided the firewood—hadn’t done any of the things that we associated with our new world.
They had simply ended this man’s life.
From a distance I heard a single pop. A gunshot.
“Okay, buddy, time to go,” I said, and began to jog toward the woods. Romeo got the hint, and nosed at the body once before following.
I didn’t bother with silence on this route, and bulled through the brush and branches straight ahead, letting them whip me as I passed through, under and over. I could hear Romeo trotting behind, spryly clearing even the largest piles of debris.
The road came into view and I slowed as I saw Kate leaning from the passenger’s side door, standing on the frame and scanning the woods.
I whistled the first few notes of the 70’s rock song we had agreed on as our identification tune a week ago, and she raised her weapon and spoke quickly.
“You hear that?” she asked.
“Why do you think I ran? I’m too lazy for that shit without a reason.”
She continued her scan, eyes sharp.
“I think we should keep moving,” she said. “Something about this area—I don’t know. It just feels wrong.”
I opened the driver’s side door and got in, waiting for Romeo to
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