Read Online Rabid by J.W. Bouchard - Free Book Online Page A

hundred or more bloodthirsty creatures that could hardly be categorized as human, that it occurred to him that he could have simply ran the other way.  Instead of luring them into the store, he could have broken to the right and rounded the first street corner.  Could have had Carl and Lisa take three lefts instead of two.  He could have taken two rights and they would have met each other. 
    It seemed so easy now.  So obvious.  But it was too late to make changes.
    His courage ebbed as if the rain was washing it away.  The overprotective part of his brain, the part interested in self-preservation and continued survival, screamed at him to quit this nonsense immediately.  Reasoning with him.  They hadn’t spotted him yet.  Quietly step back into the store, lock the door behind him, and call the whole thing off.  There was still time.
    Only there wasn’t.  One of them turned and saw him.  It was a little like being caught jerking off by his mother.  For a moment, you just froze with your dick in your hand, looking at it and then at your mother as it went instantly flaccid, a look on your face that said, Where did this come from?
    Taylor felt logic stripped away.  “C’mon, motherfuckers!  Come and get me!  I don’t have all fucking day!”
    He ran back into the store, pulling the door closed behind him, cursing at the pneumatic arm that caused it to close with agonizing slowness.  He had the key in his hand to lock it.  He yelled back to Carl and Lisa.  “Go!  Get the fuck out of here!  Now! ”
    He turned the key and snapped it off in the lock.
    Hands slammed into the glass, leaving slimy handprints.  Taylor fell back, machete held out in front of him.  He heard the sound of the back door slamming closed.  He thought he heard the sound of Tina’s Escort starting but couldn’t be sure.
    He picked himself up from the floor and made his way to the back room.  Glass shattered behind him.  It was a forced effort to keep from looking back; to keep moving to the back of the store.  When Carl had handed him the machete, it had seemed like a formidable weapon.  Now it just felt inadequate.
    Taylor heard them come crashing through the glass, the store being destroyed as they pursued him. 
    He reached the back door and flung it open.  The car was gone.  Good, he thought.  Thank God for that at least.
    Cold rain bit into his skin as he ran up the alley.  He reached the street and stopped.  Dozens of the rabid things were still stuck at the entrance to Dave’s Hardware, attempting to shove their way in through the bottleneck that had formed.  Yet another oversight in his plan.  Despite this, they continued to force their way in, none of them noticing that he had appeared at the entrance to the alley.
    He heard the sound of the back door, metal rebounding off of brick; feet splashing in puddles.  He turned left and ran. 
    The pain in his legs was almost instantaneous, but it was easy to forget the feeling if he focused his mind.  The rain made it hard to see too far ahead, but he could make out the reflective green surface of a street sign.  
    Red streaks reflected off of the rain slicked street.  At first, Taylor wasn’t sure of what he was seeing.  But as he moved closer, he recognized the red light as coming from the Escort’s brake lights. 
    He reached for the handle of the rear door and pulled.  It was locked.  He pounded on the window.  Tina leaned over into the backseat and unlocked it.
    “Go!”
    Taylor jumped into the seat and pulled the door closed.  The car rocked to the side as the first of the mob reached it and one of them jumped onto the trunk.  He saw the face of utter insanity pressed up against the rear window, nose flattened against the glass, lips pushed back, its breath creating a foggy patch on the glass.  And despite the heavy rain, he could read the name stitched on the thing’s work shirt: DAVE.        
    “Go!”           
    Carl