Read Online The Dead Walk The Earth (Book 3) by Luke Duffy - Free Book Online
Authors: Luke Duffy
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
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had expected to find there. A surge of panic began to rise within her as she envisioned him having been flung from the falling aircraft while it plummeted through the building. An image of him being crushed beneath the skids of the tumbling Gazelle flashed into her mind, causing her stomach to knot. She began to struggle against her harness as she attempted to reach out further in the hope that Mike was just pushed up against the far door and unconscious. She ripped off her pilot’s gloves in frustration, hoping to be able to manipulate the clasp of her safety harness more easily, but her numb fingers and shaking hands continued to fumble uselessly against the stubborn buckle.
“Mike, where are you?” she hissed as she leaned across the central control panel, her hand making contact with the door on the left side of the cockpit.
A rumbling low grown from behind her sent a chill through her blood, and she began to grasp and tear at the fastenings of her straps in an attempt to free herself. Her fingers would not respond to her commands, and the harness refused to release her. With her right hand, she reached down for her pistol, pushing forward with her thumb against the locking device, and sliding the weapon from its holster. The moan came again, long and rasping as Melanie pressed down on the safety catch and brought the pistol up, twisting her body so that the barrel was pointed into the shadows of the passenger compartment.
“Mike?” she pleaded, her voice trembling with fear.
There was a grunt, accompanied by the sound of a body shifting in the darkness just behind her seat. Melanie took aim in the general direction of the noise and pressed her finger against the trigger. She swallowed hard, but her mouth had become dry and felt as though it was filled with sand. The hairs on her neck were raised outward from the skin, and her flesh began to feel a number of sizes too small for her as it tightened around her taut muscles.
There was a wheezing intake of breath followed by a cough and a sputter. With relief and a sudden gasp, Melanie realised that it was not the voice of the infected but the sound of someone in pain. It was Mike. Somehow, he had been thrown out of his seat and was now somewhere in the rear of the cockpit.
“Mike, thank God,” she exhaled.
Finally, she was able control her trembling hands enough to manipulate the clasps of her safety belt and release herself from her pilot’s seat. She reached up and removed her flight helmet, instantly feeling her head throb as it was free from the snug fitting padding of the interior lining. For a moment she felt dizzy, as though on the verge of blacking out, but it soon passed as Mike groaned again.
“I’m here, Mike. We’re going to be okay. Just hold on,” she whispered reassuringly and began climbing through the gap between the two front seats, fumbling with her hands through the near blackness.
“Mike, where are you?”
She reached out blindly, groping through the shadows. Their hands made contact, and Melanie’s heart skipped a beat as Mike’s fingers folded around her own. Just that small amount of human contact in the darkness was enough to lift her spirits and fill her with hope and reassurance. His warm hand clasped around hers gave her a fleeting moment of confidence and a feeling of security, but it did not last for long when she realised how weak his grip was. He was hurt, and they were still in a bad situation. She knew there and then that Mike would not be of much help to her, and he would be completely reliant upon her to get them to safety.
At least neither of us will be facing it alone , she thought to herself.
“How the hell did you end up back here?”
“Clunk-click, every trip, Mel. I’ll remember that from now on,” Mike replied jokingly, his voice strained and filled with pain.
She could not see him, but she imagined him trying to force a smile as he made his witty remark about buckling up for safety.
“What the
“Mike, where are you?” she hissed as she leaned across the central control panel, her hand making contact with the door on the left side of the cockpit.
A rumbling low grown from behind her sent a chill through her blood, and she began to grasp and tear at the fastenings of her straps in an attempt to free herself. Her fingers would not respond to her commands, and the harness refused to release her. With her right hand, she reached down for her pistol, pushing forward with her thumb against the locking device, and sliding the weapon from its holster. The moan came again, long and rasping as Melanie pressed down on the safety catch and brought the pistol up, twisting her body so that the barrel was pointed into the shadows of the passenger compartment.
“Mike?” she pleaded, her voice trembling with fear.
There was a grunt, accompanied by the sound of a body shifting in the darkness just behind her seat. Melanie took aim in the general direction of the noise and pressed her finger against the trigger. She swallowed hard, but her mouth had become dry and felt as though it was filled with sand. The hairs on her neck were raised outward from the skin, and her flesh began to feel a number of sizes too small for her as it tightened around her taut muscles.
There was a wheezing intake of breath followed by a cough and a sputter. With relief and a sudden gasp, Melanie realised that it was not the voice of the infected but the sound of someone in pain. It was Mike. Somehow, he had been thrown out of his seat and was now somewhere in the rear of the cockpit.
“Mike, thank God,” she exhaled.
Finally, she was able control her trembling hands enough to manipulate the clasps of her safety belt and release herself from her pilot’s seat. She reached up and removed her flight helmet, instantly feeling her head throb as it was free from the snug fitting padding of the interior lining. For a moment she felt dizzy, as though on the verge of blacking out, but it soon passed as Mike groaned again.
“I’m here, Mike. We’re going to be okay. Just hold on,” she whispered reassuringly and began climbing through the gap between the two front seats, fumbling with her hands through the near blackness.
“Mike, where are you?”
She reached out blindly, groping through the shadows. Their hands made contact, and Melanie’s heart skipped a beat as Mike’s fingers folded around her own. Just that small amount of human contact in the darkness was enough to lift her spirits and fill her with hope and reassurance. His warm hand clasped around hers gave her a fleeting moment of confidence and a feeling of security, but it did not last for long when she realised how weak his grip was. He was hurt, and they were still in a bad situation. She knew there and then that Mike would not be of much help to her, and he would be completely reliant upon her to get them to safety.
At least neither of us will be facing it alone , she thought to herself.
“How the hell did you end up back here?”
“Clunk-click, every trip, Mel. I’ll remember that from now on,” Mike replied jokingly, his voice strained and filled with pain.
She could not see him, but she imagined him trying to force a smile as he made his witty remark about buckling up for safety.
“What the
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