Read Online Night of the Living Dead by Christopher Andrews - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christopher Andrews
Ads: Link
wild. She was slipping ... slipping ...
Then her gaze fell upon the very thing she most wanted to see: A telephone!
Nearly melting in relief, she threw herself across the study, seizing the handset and dialing for the operator with shaking hands. She glanced out the study’s other window, ducking down to make sure the creature didn’t spot her while she was so close to rescue.
Several seconds elapsed before she absorbed that she was hearing only a weird, electronic warble.
No. Oh, no, no no no
Tears of defeat welling up in her eyes, she slammed her fingers repeatedly against the cradle, then tried dialing the operator once more. Nothing.
Slipping ... slipping ...
Shaking the handset in pitiful frustration, she slammed it down and shoved herself away from the useless piece of junk to keep from screaming at it. She was nearly out of the room before a cold hand of realization tightened around her heart and sent her scurrying back to retrieve the butcher knife.
Returning to the living room, Barbra caught a glimpse of movement through another of the many windows. She ducked, not trusting the gloom of the house to protect her from being spotted, and rushed forward until she slid onto her knees in front of the table beneath the window and, carefully, peeked over the windowsill.
The creature was visible yet again, staggering about and ogling the house with that blank expression on its face. That, in a way, was almost worse than its look of animalistic hunger when it attacked her in the cemetery — that nothing in its eyes!
But as disturbing as it was, Barbra soon spotted something far worse.
Behind the creature, Barbra could barely make out two people wandering up to the house! For the briefest flicker of an instant, she was torn between relief that help had arrived and horror that the creature would set upon the newcomers before she could warn them ... but then the flicker passed. Something about their gait immediately set Barbra back on edge. Although not exactly the same as the creature’s, their movement was off in its own way, sluggish and ungainly.
Oh, no ... oh, God, please no, no ...
The creature turned around, saw the two people, took one step toward them ...
No, no, please, God, this can’t be happening!
... then dismissed them, turning back to the house even as the newcomers ambled up behind it, as though joining its ranks.
Barbra shoved herself away from the window so hard she stumbled, nearly knocking over one of the dining table chairs. She fumbled to right it before it could fall over, and her shaking hands nearly made it worse. When the chair thankfully settled, she ran, ran, away from the window, away from those things, away, away ...
Back in the hallway, Barbra struggled to maintain some level of control. She would accomplish nothing, would be no closer to rescuing her poor brother if she collapsed, hyperventilating in the dark like a helpless child.
They’re coming to get you, Barbra ...
SHUT UP, JOHNNY! I’M TRYING TO FIND HELP FOR YOU!
She stumbled yet again, this time catching herself on the bannister—
A bannister! Yes, the farmhouse had a second floor, she had seen that from outside! Up, that’s where she needed to go, up and away from those things. From upstairs, she could peer down through the windows without their seeing her in return, maybe she would even find another phone, one that worked!
Up, she would go up.
But disappointment had been her constant companion since the attack in the cemetery, and this proved no different. She had barely climbed two of the stairs before catching a glimpse of something above her, something on the landing. She couldn’t make out what it was, but just as she had almost immediately labeled the newcomers outside as a threat, that same warning screamed in the back of her mind now.
Stretching out her arms to either side, supporting herself between
Then her gaze fell upon the very thing she most wanted to see: A telephone!
Nearly melting in relief, she threw herself across the study, seizing the handset and dialing for the operator with shaking hands. She glanced out the study’s other window, ducking down to make sure the creature didn’t spot her while she was so close to rescue.
Several seconds elapsed before she absorbed that she was hearing only a weird, electronic warble.
No. Oh, no, no no no
Tears of defeat welling up in her eyes, she slammed her fingers repeatedly against the cradle, then tried dialing the operator once more. Nothing.
Slipping ... slipping ...
Shaking the handset in pitiful frustration, she slammed it down and shoved herself away from the useless piece of junk to keep from screaming at it. She was nearly out of the room before a cold hand of realization tightened around her heart and sent her scurrying back to retrieve the butcher knife.
Returning to the living room, Barbra caught a glimpse of movement through another of the many windows. She ducked, not trusting the gloom of the house to protect her from being spotted, and rushed forward until she slid onto her knees in front of the table beneath the window and, carefully, peeked over the windowsill.
The creature was visible yet again, staggering about and ogling the house with that blank expression on its face. That, in a way, was almost worse than its look of animalistic hunger when it attacked her in the cemetery — that nothing in its eyes!
But as disturbing as it was, Barbra soon spotted something far worse.
Behind the creature, Barbra could barely make out two people wandering up to the house! For the briefest flicker of an instant, she was torn between relief that help had arrived and horror that the creature would set upon the newcomers before she could warn them ... but then the flicker passed. Something about their gait immediately set Barbra back on edge. Although not exactly the same as the creature’s, their movement was off in its own way, sluggish and ungainly.
Oh, no ... oh, God, please no, no ...
The creature turned around, saw the two people, took one step toward them ...
No, no, please, God, this can’t be happening!
... then dismissed them, turning back to the house even as the newcomers ambled up behind it, as though joining its ranks.
Barbra shoved herself away from the window so hard she stumbled, nearly knocking over one of the dining table chairs. She fumbled to right it before it could fall over, and her shaking hands nearly made it worse. When the chair thankfully settled, she ran, ran, away from the window, away from those things, away, away ...
Back in the hallway, Barbra struggled to maintain some level of control. She would accomplish nothing, would be no closer to rescuing her poor brother if she collapsed, hyperventilating in the dark like a helpless child.
They’re coming to get you, Barbra ...
SHUT UP, JOHNNY! I’M TRYING TO FIND HELP FOR YOU!
She stumbled yet again, this time catching herself on the bannister—
A bannister! Yes, the farmhouse had a second floor, she had seen that from outside! Up, that’s where she needed to go, up and away from those things. From upstairs, she could peer down through the windows without their seeing her in return, maybe she would even find another phone, one that worked!
Up, she would go up.
But disappointment had been her constant companion since the attack in the cemetery, and this proved no different. She had barely climbed two of the stairs before catching a glimpse of something above her, something on the landing. She couldn’t make out what it was, but just as she had almost immediately labeled the newcomers outside as a threat, that same warning screamed in the back of her mind now.
Stretching out her arms to either side, supporting herself between
Similar Books
