Read Online The Darkening (A Zombie Awakening) by Cynthia Melton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cynthia Melton
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idea how much of their brain remained intact after infection.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Colton pressed the gas pedal taking them on a slow crawl through a metal hell.
The motor home struck one car and a body tumbled out, its stomach ripped open and its head bashed in. More vehicles showed blood splatters and body parts, other s sat empty, doors hanging open as if their occupants had fled in a hurry.
By the time they pushed through the first few cars, the zombies had reached the motor home. The groans and growls increased. Chalice felt as if she traveled through a herd of rabid lions, every one of them focused on her throat. They banged with amazing force on the windows and side of the motor home, leaving smeared hand prints.
One bloated man tried to bite through the glass, leaving his saliva dripping down the window. Chalice wanted to throw up, but to do so she would have to open a window. That wasn’t going to happen.
“We’re going to run over some them.” Colton increased the speed a little. “They’re darting out between the cars. I don’t think they’re very intelligent.”
If they didn’t travel in such large numbers, their stupidity would be a good thing. As it was, their lack of coherent thought and their insatiable appetite for blood, made them as dangerous, if not more so, than a pride of lions.
Chalice yanked a pistol from the glove box . If a zombie broke through her window, it would get a bullet right between the eyes. Hopefully, before it took a bite out of her arm.
The dogs’ barks echoed in the camper, making her ears hurt. Between their frantic barks and the eery groans, she wanted to put her hands over her ears and hide under the seat. “Mychal, shut those dogs up!”
Lady and Buster snapped at zombie fingers coming through the slightly open windows. Occasionally, they’d bite one off, letting the offending appendage drop to the floor.
The motor home lurched. Bile rose in Chalice’s stomach at the realization they’d ran over a body.
Colton continued forcing the motor home down Interstate 40. “We have to come up with a plan. There has to be a safe zone, somewhere, right?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t seen any people other than the gas station and the bikers.” Hope leaped in her chest. “Do you really think there might be a place full of survivors?”
“There has to be. We survived, didn’t we?” He shrugged. “I’m thinking that we’re spread far and thin though. The cities were probably hit the worse. I dread going through Oklahoma City. Could you see whether we have a map somewhere?”
Anything to take her mind off the grisly scene outside.
“Five!” Mychal shouted and held up a bloody barbeque skewer.
Gross. He kept poking the skewer through the window and into the eyes of any zombie that got to close. With each stab, the dogs barked shriller and Hanna screamed louder.
“Seven!”
“Stop counting.” Chalice pulled a map from the glove compartment. “It’s disgusting.”
“With every one I kill, that’s one less to kill someone else.” He jabbed another, the eyeball bursting like an overripe grape. H is arm dripped with thick slime. “I can get to them, but they can’t get to me. You’d think they’d see their friends dying around them and back off.”
Did zombies even have friends? Chalice turned away from the carnage, wishing she could also shut out the sounds, and started to unfold the map. Instead,
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Colton pressed the gas pedal taking them on a slow crawl through a metal hell.
The motor home struck one car and a body tumbled out, its stomach ripped open and its head bashed in. More vehicles showed blood splatters and body parts, other s sat empty, doors hanging open as if their occupants had fled in a hurry.
By the time they pushed through the first few cars, the zombies had reached the motor home. The groans and growls increased. Chalice felt as if she traveled through a herd of rabid lions, every one of them focused on her throat. They banged with amazing force on the windows and side of the motor home, leaving smeared hand prints.
One bloated man tried to bite through the glass, leaving his saliva dripping down the window. Chalice wanted to throw up, but to do so she would have to open a window. That wasn’t going to happen.
“We’re going to run over some them.” Colton increased the speed a little. “They’re darting out between the cars. I don’t think they’re very intelligent.”
If they didn’t travel in such large numbers, their stupidity would be a good thing. As it was, their lack of coherent thought and their insatiable appetite for blood, made them as dangerous, if not more so, than a pride of lions.
Chalice yanked a pistol from the glove box . If a zombie broke through her window, it would get a bullet right between the eyes. Hopefully, before it took a bite out of her arm.
The dogs’ barks echoed in the camper, making her ears hurt. Between their frantic barks and the eery groans, she wanted to put her hands over her ears and hide under the seat. “Mychal, shut those dogs up!”
Lady and Buster snapped at zombie fingers coming through the slightly open windows. Occasionally, they’d bite one off, letting the offending appendage drop to the floor.
The motor home lurched. Bile rose in Chalice’s stomach at the realization they’d ran over a body.
Colton continued forcing the motor home down Interstate 40. “We have to come up with a plan. There has to be a safe zone, somewhere, right?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t seen any people other than the gas station and the bikers.” Hope leaped in her chest. “Do you really think there might be a place full of survivors?”
“There has to be. We survived, didn’t we?” He shrugged. “I’m thinking that we’re spread far and thin though. The cities were probably hit the worse. I dread going through Oklahoma City. Could you see whether we have a map somewhere?”
Anything to take her mind off the grisly scene outside.
“Five!” Mychal shouted and held up a bloody barbeque skewer.
Gross. He kept poking the skewer through the window and into the eyes of any zombie that got to close. With each stab, the dogs barked shriller and Hanna screamed louder.
“Seven!”
“Stop counting.” Chalice pulled a map from the glove compartment. “It’s disgusting.”
“With every one I kill, that’s one less to kill someone else.” He jabbed another, the eyeball bursting like an overripe grape. H is arm dripped with thick slime. “I can get to them, but they can’t get to me. You’d think they’d see their friends dying around them and back off.”
Did zombies even have friends? Chalice turned away from the carnage, wishing she could also shut out the sounds, and started to unfold the map. Instead,
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