Read Online MZS: Philadelphia (Metropolitan Zombie Survivors Book 3) by K. D. McAdams - Free Book Online Page A

grip. I wonder if there is a reason Patrick’s not helping me? Is there a lesson to learn here, or is he just difficult?
    Struggling for almost a minute yields some progress. Each movement is more forceful than the previous and I realize that nothing will break or ooze on me.
    When the body is rotated almost completely over, I can see two rectangular pouches attached to the belt. Now that I see them, they look obvious. Their snaps pop open easily, but the clips don’t fall out the way the gun did. Using my finger and thumb, I slide the first clip out and drop it in my pocket before doing the same with the second. Even the clips of ammunition are surprisingly heavy.
    What looks like a knife is clipped on the belt just behind the ammunition pouches. I reach down and slide it off and flip it open. The blade looks sharp and I close it quickly. I clip it on my own belt and turn, ready to go.
    “The knife was a good find,” Patrick says approvingly.
    This is the type of compliment that is normal now. I nod in agreement. Patrick is staring at the body on the floor. He has a look of puzzlement in his face.
    “Does he have a vest on?” he asks.
    I look at the officer’s body closely and notice the lines under his shirt. He is definitely wearing a bulletproof vest.
    “Yeah, I think he does.”
    We both stand and stare. It takes a few seconds for me to figure out what Patrick is thinking, but I get there. He is wondering if we should take the vest. We should, I think. Though the undead aren’t shooting people, so it wouldn’t really help against them.
    The other guys are going for headshots, so body armor wouldn’t help for that. It wouldn’t hurt in case they missed, but how would we get it off the officer? We would have to undo his shirt and roll his body all around. It was hard enough just getting to the ammo clips; undressing a dead body would be a nightmare.
    “I don’t think we need it.” I’m not at that advanced stage of depravity where I am stealing clothes off dead police officers.
    “Your call. We gotta get you something for your arms and legs though.” He taps his forearms. I can clearly make out duct tape decorated with umbrellas that looks like its wrapped over a soccer shin guard. He has the same setup on the other arm and both his lower legs.
    “What now?” I ask.
    “Let’s get back to the others. I don’t like being separated.”
    Patrick turns and heads back up the stairs. He steps quickly and I can hear that he is being less careful than on our way down. We make good time and I think he feels safer knowing that the group has a gun. It could be that he just wants to get back to his friends.
    The clang of a body hitting a railing and a loud thud echoes through the stairwell. I recognize the sound from the zombie falling onto us from above. Could it have been attracted by the sound of our steps?
    Patrick abandons caution and leaps two steps at a time. He is around the corner and across the next landing before I can push myself for one more step. For a pudgy guy, he is explosive.
    By the time I catch up, he is standing on the fifth floor landing. His friends all appear to be okay, but there is a third zombie body on the pile.
    “Is everyone all right?” I ask, concerned.
    They give me silent nods in return.
    “What do we do now?” Patrick looks at the big guy; I think he called him Cupcake.
    I thought that Patrick was their leader but we suddenly seem to be waiting on orders from Cupcake. The silence is frightening. Drips of blood continue to drop slowly from the body of the boy. They splat into the puddle forming on the landing and each one sounds louder than the last.
    “We should go up to the lounge. Get some food and water. It may give us a better view so we can help Tucker,” the young woman says.
    Patrick looks up the stairs and then down at the pile of bodies. These monsters came from where she is suggesting we go. “Seize the high ground,” floats into my head, like a lesson from a