Read Online Plagued: The Ironville Zombie Quarantine Retraction Experiment (Plagued States of America Book 3) by Better Hero Army - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Better Hero Army
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in the fridge for later. There’s coffee, too.”
“Are you kidding?” Tom asked. “You’re sleeping with those…his models?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Hank asked, offended. “They’re goddamned biters, for crying out loud. Who the hell in their right mind would get near them?”
“That’s my point.”
“Their rooms are locked, kid.” Hank groused. He looked Tom up and down, shaking his head. “You should come get some sleep, too.”
“I think I’ll sleep fine in here.”
“Come on, kid. You can lock the door to your berth. Nothing will get in. It’s fine.”
Tom reluctantly agreed, following Hank into the first class coach where Houston’s three zombies were kept. Hank pointed into the first berth where the zombie woman was standing next to the window, staring outside with one hand on the cold glass.
“I caught her sleeping in the bed earlier,” Hank said, pointing at the zombie woman. “Weird. I’ve never seen a biter as docile as these three. Even you,” Hank added, smiling at Penelope.
“Do you think they’re drugged?”
“Nah,” Hank dismissed, leading Tom and Penelope down the hallway. “Just really well-trained.”
Hank banged on one of the doors, calling out to Jones to wake up. The drape covering the window slid open to reveal Doctor O’Farrell. She let the drape go and opened the door. Inside, past the doctor, Penelope saw the soldier sitting at the edge of a bed, rubbing his fingers through his short hair.
“What?” O’Farrell asked, bleary eyed and surprised.
“It’s Mason’s shift up front,” Hank said.
“Bring coffee and a tray of Entenmann’s for Houston,” Tom told her.
“Sure,” she said absently , then perked up. “There’s Entenmann’s?”
Hank led Tom to the next berth and opened its door. “You take that one, kid,” he said.
Penelope leaned around Tom to stare in. It was a narrow room like the others, with a couch and table. She didn’t see a bed like in the other berths.
“You can have the next one if you want, Kitty.”
Penelope shook her head.
“She’ll be fine with me.”
“Fine, fine,” Hank grumbled, walking away toward the back of the train. “Everyone’s got a girl but me.”
“There’s always Houston’s models,” Tom offered.
“Go to hell,” Hank replied jokingly. He went straight for the bathroom at the end of the hall.
Tom led Penelope into the berth and took off his jacket. He winced at the effort of getting it past his shoulder. Still in pain from falling on it a month ago while carrying Penelope out of the horde in Midamerica. He traded his shoulder for preventing her falling on her head, cupping her close to his body as he slammed onto the tile.
She reached out to touch him, feeling the tingle in her belly and the warmth on her face that came with times like these when all she wanted to do was be close to him. Tom stepped past her and fiddled with a latch on the wall. The back of the couch fell forward and slid out, revealing a mattress and sheets. It reminded her how little she knew of the world yet again.
“Take off your jacket,” Tom said. “Let’s get some sleep.”
Penelope let Tom get the blankets and make their bed. He climbed in first so he could lie on his good side, then opened the blanket for Penelope to crawl in next to him. She gladly accepted, turning and relaxing so that she touched him from head to toe with the back of her body. He let the blanket fall over them and put his arm over her. She took his hand in hers and nuzzled closer to Tom, feeling the pressure of his body against hers. This was her favorite thing in life. This felt safe.
“I don’t know how I feel about you falling asleep again,” Tom whispered. “Try to dream ab out something good.”
Penelope stilled. This was the only good thing in life.
When the train began to trundle ahead again, she stared wide-eyed toward the window, watching a dark world of gray obscurity pass by slowly. Outside it was
“Are you kidding?” Tom asked. “You’re sleeping with those…his models?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Hank asked, offended. “They’re goddamned biters, for crying out loud. Who the hell in their right mind would get near them?”
“That’s my point.”
“Their rooms are locked, kid.” Hank groused. He looked Tom up and down, shaking his head. “You should come get some sleep, too.”
“I think I’ll sleep fine in here.”
“Come on, kid. You can lock the door to your berth. Nothing will get in. It’s fine.”
Tom reluctantly agreed, following Hank into the first class coach where Houston’s three zombies were kept. Hank pointed into the first berth where the zombie woman was standing next to the window, staring outside with one hand on the cold glass.
“I caught her sleeping in the bed earlier,” Hank said, pointing at the zombie woman. “Weird. I’ve never seen a biter as docile as these three. Even you,” Hank added, smiling at Penelope.
“Do you think they’re drugged?”
“Nah,” Hank dismissed, leading Tom and Penelope down the hallway. “Just really well-trained.”
Hank banged on one of the doors, calling out to Jones to wake up. The drape covering the window slid open to reveal Doctor O’Farrell. She let the drape go and opened the door. Inside, past the doctor, Penelope saw the soldier sitting at the edge of a bed, rubbing his fingers through his short hair.
“What?” O’Farrell asked, bleary eyed and surprised.
“It’s Mason’s shift up front,” Hank said.
“Bring coffee and a tray of Entenmann’s for Houston,” Tom told her.
“Sure,” she said absently , then perked up. “There’s Entenmann’s?”
Hank led Tom to the next berth and opened its door. “You take that one, kid,” he said.
Penelope leaned around Tom to stare in. It was a narrow room like the others, with a couch and table. She didn’t see a bed like in the other berths.
“You can have the next one if you want, Kitty.”
Penelope shook her head.
“She’ll be fine with me.”
“Fine, fine,” Hank grumbled, walking away toward the back of the train. “Everyone’s got a girl but me.”
“There’s always Houston’s models,” Tom offered.
“Go to hell,” Hank replied jokingly. He went straight for the bathroom at the end of the hall.
Tom led Penelope into the berth and took off his jacket. He winced at the effort of getting it past his shoulder. Still in pain from falling on it a month ago while carrying Penelope out of the horde in Midamerica. He traded his shoulder for preventing her falling on her head, cupping her close to his body as he slammed onto the tile.
She reached out to touch him, feeling the tingle in her belly and the warmth on her face that came with times like these when all she wanted to do was be close to him. Tom stepped past her and fiddled with a latch on the wall. The back of the couch fell forward and slid out, revealing a mattress and sheets. It reminded her how little she knew of the world yet again.
“Take off your jacket,” Tom said. “Let’s get some sleep.”
Penelope let Tom get the blankets and make their bed. He climbed in first so he could lie on his good side, then opened the blanket for Penelope to crawl in next to him. She gladly accepted, turning and relaxing so that she touched him from head to toe with the back of her body. He let the blanket fall over them and put his arm over her. She took his hand in hers and nuzzled closer to Tom, feeling the pressure of his body against hers. This was her favorite thing in life. This felt safe.
“I don’t know how I feel about you falling asleep again,” Tom whispered. “Try to dream ab out something good.”
Penelope stilled. This was the only good thing in life.
When the train began to trundle ahead again, she stared wide-eyed toward the window, watching a dark world of gray obscurity pass by slowly. Outside it was
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