Read Online The Fall (Book 2): Dead Will Rise by Joshua Guess - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joshua Guess
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but his head, hands, and feet, which were completely bare. Which meant he had to keep them away from the mouths of his enemies.
Not waiting for the second zombie to gain its footing, Kell shot forward and tackled it at the knees. His hand came up with the knife tight in his grip, slashing deeply into the tendons in the back of its knees. He pushed the thing away as it began to topple, legs incapable of holding it up. Something grabbed the back of his vest and pulled.
Kell's elbow—thankfully protected by a hard plastic guard pilfered from a sporting goods store—lashed backward, connecting with the face of the first zombie. A sharp pain went up his own leg as he danced away from the staggering enemy, something piercing his foot and driving deep. Hot, sticky blood began to flow; he could feel it on the sole of his foot.
Wasting no time, Kell lunged again, taking the still-standing undead around the waist, both of them toppling over. Dirty fingernails skittered across the hard plastic plates of his armor's side panels, broke off in the exposed sections of chain mail at the joints of his arms. They twisted, wrestling like schoolyard children as each tried to gain control of the other. It was a contest Kell would have won easily had he not been holding a knife. The zombie had better coordination than its simpler brethren, but that was a relative term. Plus, dozens of hours of Kate forcing him to learn grappling made a fair fight a foregone conclusion.
Then he remembered the knife was a weapon and used it, taking advantage of an opening to jam the thing between two ribs. He twisted the handle to lock the blade in place and pulled, flipping the zombie onto its stomach. His free hand went to the little hair it had left, and yanked.
Another small opening, but enough of one to let him free the blade and put it through the zombie's eye.
“Son of a bitch!” Kell shouted as the blade nearly skipped across the bone. Damn close to his hand. A messy job, but done all the same.
He gave the knife a firm jiggle to make sure the enemy was finished, then turned to face the crippled zombie he'd left behind. The thing had pulled itself forward mostly with its hands, the legs flopping and twitching behind it. The cuts were deeper than he'd intended, pale bone showing through.
The thing had its face in the dirt, lapping at the small pool of blood like a man in the desert dying of thirst. It paid him no attention at all until he was right next to it, but by then it was too late. His knee came down on the zombie's neck with every ounce of his two hundred and thirty pounds. With grim determination, Kell stayed in that position and sawed between the vertebrae.
All went still.
His breath came out in twin cones of steam as he huffed through his nose. A quick glance around to make sure there wasn't a third zombie, then to his pack to clean and wrap his foot. When that painful chore was finished, he hurriedly repacked everything, put his boots back on, and began to erase the evidence of his camp before realizing the two corpses gave up his presence.
Limping, Kell walked with an uneven but frantic pace. The smell of blood would draw more of them, and he couldn't be sure any other undead wouldn't be able to scent his foot, wrapped though it was.
His options had narrowed significantly in the last half hour. The only choices were to cross the creek soon, even if it meant swimming, and find the rendezvous location and hope for a miracle there...
Or to seek help from whatever locals were nearby. Which meant putting himself at the mercy of strangers.
Six
Lunch was the bag of chia seeds, but he only ate a half a handful. They'd been Laura's project back at the house. According to her, the seeds were a superfood capable of supporting a person's nutrition for an extended period of time. You only had to eat a couple tablespoons of them a day to stay alive. Which by no means meant Kell wasn't famished. His stomach rumbled in the digestive
Not waiting for the second zombie to gain its footing, Kell shot forward and tackled it at the knees. His hand came up with the knife tight in his grip, slashing deeply into the tendons in the back of its knees. He pushed the thing away as it began to topple, legs incapable of holding it up. Something grabbed the back of his vest and pulled.
Kell's elbow—thankfully protected by a hard plastic guard pilfered from a sporting goods store—lashed backward, connecting with the face of the first zombie. A sharp pain went up his own leg as he danced away from the staggering enemy, something piercing his foot and driving deep. Hot, sticky blood began to flow; he could feel it on the sole of his foot.
Wasting no time, Kell lunged again, taking the still-standing undead around the waist, both of them toppling over. Dirty fingernails skittered across the hard plastic plates of his armor's side panels, broke off in the exposed sections of chain mail at the joints of his arms. They twisted, wrestling like schoolyard children as each tried to gain control of the other. It was a contest Kell would have won easily had he not been holding a knife. The zombie had better coordination than its simpler brethren, but that was a relative term. Plus, dozens of hours of Kate forcing him to learn grappling made a fair fight a foregone conclusion.
Then he remembered the knife was a weapon and used it, taking advantage of an opening to jam the thing between two ribs. He twisted the handle to lock the blade in place and pulled, flipping the zombie onto its stomach. His free hand went to the little hair it had left, and yanked.
Another small opening, but enough of one to let him free the blade and put it through the zombie's eye.
“Son of a bitch!” Kell shouted as the blade nearly skipped across the bone. Damn close to his hand. A messy job, but done all the same.
He gave the knife a firm jiggle to make sure the enemy was finished, then turned to face the crippled zombie he'd left behind. The thing had pulled itself forward mostly with its hands, the legs flopping and twitching behind it. The cuts were deeper than he'd intended, pale bone showing through.
The thing had its face in the dirt, lapping at the small pool of blood like a man in the desert dying of thirst. It paid him no attention at all until he was right next to it, but by then it was too late. His knee came down on the zombie's neck with every ounce of his two hundred and thirty pounds. With grim determination, Kell stayed in that position and sawed between the vertebrae.
All went still.
His breath came out in twin cones of steam as he huffed through his nose. A quick glance around to make sure there wasn't a third zombie, then to his pack to clean and wrap his foot. When that painful chore was finished, he hurriedly repacked everything, put his boots back on, and began to erase the evidence of his camp before realizing the two corpses gave up his presence.
Limping, Kell walked with an uneven but frantic pace. The smell of blood would draw more of them, and he couldn't be sure any other undead wouldn't be able to scent his foot, wrapped though it was.
His options had narrowed significantly in the last half hour. The only choices were to cross the creek soon, even if it meant swimming, and find the rendezvous location and hope for a miracle there...
Or to seek help from whatever locals were nearby. Which meant putting himself at the mercy of strangers.
Six
Lunch was the bag of chia seeds, but he only ate a half a handful. They'd been Laura's project back at the house. According to her, the seeds were a superfood capable of supporting a person's nutrition for an extended period of time. You only had to eat a couple tablespoons of them a day to stay alive. Which by no means meant Kell wasn't famished. His stomach rumbled in the digestive
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