meals now and risk starving when they left this place. She knew that’s what he meant, but of course he didn’t know she intended to leave him behind. So instead of offering to share, she volunteered to help search the vehicles in nearby parking lots.
“Absolutely not,” Jeff thundered, scaring everyone. Even that creepy little shit, Luke, quit smiling and stared wide-eyed. Jeff’s hands were clenched into tight fits and mottled with his anger. “You’re not going,” he said, giving everyone dirty looks as though daring them to argue. “I’ll go search and you stay here.” He turned on his heel, snatched Lorna’s crowbar and stormed off, slamming the motel door behind him.
She studied the rooms, wandering from one to the other as several of the people went outside to gather supplies. Chet had gone after Jeff with an apologetic shrug for Lorna’s benefit, and Mr. Kolchak kept watch from the door, the rifle held securely in his wizened hands. She was left to her own devices, and used the time to take in her surroundings, searching for a viable escape route in case it became necessary.
She’d seen the motel from the outside, and knew there were approximat ely twenty rooms lined up. Each room had two or three doors. There was, of course one outside door, blocked off with the solid wooden dressers each room contained, as well as one or two doors leading the connecting rooms, depending on if it was an end room or a middle one. Lorna itched with concern. It struck her as a bad idea to have such open access. She wanted to tell the others that they needed something more secure than just a blocked door, some chicken wire and only two open doors to the outside, but before she could she heard the high-pitched keening.
She ran back from the far room she’d wandered into, rejoinin g the now anxious group. Will was rocking, tears running down his craggy face as two of the other men carried Chet between them, running for the motel. Jeff was limping after them, swinging his crowbar at the horde that seemed to come from nowhere… that actually came from everywhere. One minute he was baring his teeth in a grimace, sea green eyes full of fire and fury. With the next blink, a woman in the tattered remains of a teal blue jogging suit lunged forward and sank her teeth into his shoulder blade. Jeff let out a ragged scream as she tugged, eyes dull, ripping the flesh from his back in a long, bloody strip.
Lorna turned away. She couldn’t save him, she knew that, and trouble was a lot closer. Jeff had taken her fucking crowbar, and she needed a weapon desperately. She grabbed a nightstand, the lightest thing in the room, and smashed it again and again on the bathroom floor where the hard surface would break the wood quickly. It was one of those spindly deals, not terribly sturdy, but it had one important thing in its favor… the legs were long, and would make a pretty good melee weapon. With the fourth downswing she finally had a leg free. She started to break it again to get more weapons, but it was useless. The screaming had begun in the other room.
She ran quickly toward the shrieks of pain and fear, snatching her two bags off the floor where they’d been left for her that morning. She stopped cold in the doorway. Will was clutching his son, fighting those who tried to yank Chet away. His son’s face was buried in his throat, but still he held tight. Mason had his face burrowed into Mrs. Kolchak’s skirt, a twisted parody of his big brother’s movements. His screams were the ones she’d initially heard, but now he’d gone mute, clinging tiredly to the woman’s waist as he hid his face from the sight of his brother feasting on his father.
The door was wide open and the undead swarmed inside. There was no escape. Mr. Hubbard slammed into her, a large bear of a man with a shock of brown hair and jiggling jowls. Her weapon went flying, leaving her defenseless. She kicked him back, and he was slow and uncoordinated. Her
“Absolutely not,” Jeff thundered, scaring everyone. Even that creepy little shit, Luke, quit smiling and stared wide-eyed. Jeff’s hands were clenched into tight fits and mottled with his anger. “You’re not going,” he said, giving everyone dirty looks as though daring them to argue. “I’ll go search and you stay here.” He turned on his heel, snatched Lorna’s crowbar and stormed off, slamming the motel door behind him.
She studied the rooms, wandering from one to the other as several of the people went outside to gather supplies. Chet had gone after Jeff with an apologetic shrug for Lorna’s benefit, and Mr. Kolchak kept watch from the door, the rifle held securely in his wizened hands. She was left to her own devices, and used the time to take in her surroundings, searching for a viable escape route in case it became necessary.
She’d seen the motel from the outside, and knew there were approximat ely twenty rooms lined up. Each room had two or three doors. There was, of course one outside door, blocked off with the solid wooden dressers each room contained, as well as one or two doors leading the connecting rooms, depending on if it was an end room or a middle one. Lorna itched with concern. It struck her as a bad idea to have such open access. She wanted to tell the others that they needed something more secure than just a blocked door, some chicken wire and only two open doors to the outside, but before she could she heard the high-pitched keening.
She ran back from the far room she’d wandered into, rejoinin g the now anxious group. Will was rocking, tears running down his craggy face as two of the other men carried Chet between them, running for the motel. Jeff was limping after them, swinging his crowbar at the horde that seemed to come from nowhere… that actually came from everywhere. One minute he was baring his teeth in a grimace, sea green eyes full of fire and fury. With the next blink, a woman in the tattered remains of a teal blue jogging suit lunged forward and sank her teeth into his shoulder blade. Jeff let out a ragged scream as she tugged, eyes dull, ripping the flesh from his back in a long, bloody strip.
Lorna turned away. She couldn’t save him, she knew that, and trouble was a lot closer. Jeff had taken her fucking crowbar, and she needed a weapon desperately. She grabbed a nightstand, the lightest thing in the room, and smashed it again and again on the bathroom floor where the hard surface would break the wood quickly. It was one of those spindly deals, not terribly sturdy, but it had one important thing in its favor… the legs were long, and would make a pretty good melee weapon. With the fourth downswing she finally had a leg free. She started to break it again to get more weapons, but it was useless. The screaming had begun in the other room.
She ran quickly toward the shrieks of pain and fear, snatching her two bags off the floor where they’d been left for her that morning. She stopped cold in the doorway. Will was clutching his son, fighting those who tried to yank Chet away. His son’s face was buried in his throat, but still he held tight. Mason had his face burrowed into Mrs. Kolchak’s skirt, a twisted parody of his big brother’s movements. His screams were the ones she’d initially heard, but now he’d gone mute, clinging tiredly to the woman’s waist as he hid his face from the sight of his brother feasting on his father.
The door was wide open and the undead swarmed inside. There was no escape. Mr. Hubbard slammed into her, a large bear of a man with a shock of brown hair and jiggling jowls. Her weapon went flying, leaving her defenseless. She kicked him back, and he was slow and uncoordinated. Her
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