Read Online The Hunger (Book 2): Consumed by Jason Brant - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jason Brant
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floor.
Eifort and Brown each took separate chairs. No one wanted to sleep upstairs because of the smell.
The doc snored throughout the night.
Lance awoke in a cold sweat around midnight. His pulse raced as the memories of a nightmare faded away.
He got up and walked around the first floor, peering through the windows, ensuring that nothing stalked in from the fields. After twenty minutes of pacing, he went back to the pullout bed and slept fitfully until Cass shook him awake in the morning.
“What?” He sat up and rubbed sleep dust from his eyes.
“Breakfast is ready.”
“What’re we eating?”
“Cold soup.”
Lance licked his lips. “Yum.”
“Better than cold baked beans again.”
During a two-day stretch the week before, they’d lived entirely on canned beans. A house they had raided had an extensive stockpile of them in the basement. The entire boat was filled with methane gas both nights.
They ate cans of corn chowder on the front porch as the sun rose over the fields. Mountains lay beyond, trees extending across the skyline. A bird chirped from a feeder hanging at the end of the porch.
Lance breathed in the country air, content to sit there for the time being. He agreed with Brown—he should have moved to the country years ago. Though it took a significant amount of work to live like this, it felt more rewarding, more personal.
He enjoyed the convenience of the city, but he thought that the bustling nature of it added to the depression he’d dealt with.
Storm clouds crept over the mountains by the time they finished eating.
Eifort found a closet filled with camping equipment by the back office. She loaded the truck with sleeping bags, matches, and flashlights. The guns were already in the backseat, along with all the ammunition they could find.
A water pump jutted out of the ground in the backyard from which sweet, clear well water came. Lance gorged himself on it, relishing the taste of chemical-free nature. The water sloshed in his stomach as he went back to the porch and collapsed onto the swing.
“Going to rain soon,” he said lazily.
Brown nodded, pursing his lips. “We should probably stay here until it passes. Why risk an accident?”
They all agreed and sat quietly, watching as the storm rolled its way down the mountain range. Lance wasn’t sure how they would get in an accident with no one else driving on the roads, but he liked the idea of sitting around the farm for a while longer.
Eifort spotted jet contrails through a gap in the clouds just as the first rain plopped to the dirt. “Someone is still out there.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t dropped bombs on the major cities yet,” Lance said.
“Maybe they will.” Cass chewed on a piece of rhubarb she found growing by the nearest barn.
The first crack of thunder came shortly thereafter, silencing all of them as they watched sheets of rain glide across the fields. Water poured from the roof gutters, soaking the earth around the house.
Cass got up and pulled her half-shirt over her head, exposing her sports bra.
“I don’t think they would appreciate us getting it on right in front of them,” Lance said, gesturing to Eifort.
“Shut up, dumbass.” Cass went down the steps, tilting her face to the sky, her hair soaking through quickly.
Her arms lifted from her sides, sticking straight out, palms up. “Get down here—this feels amazing!”
Eifort and Brown shared a look before she jumped up and pulled her tank top off. Lance tried not to laugh when he caught the doc staring at her as she joined Cass on the lawn. She spun around, her bare feet splashing in the soaked grass.
Lance got off the swing and went inside, jogging up the stairs. He ignored the smell of decay as he went into the master bathroom and grabbed a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo.
Eifort was helping Brown get his shirt off as he struggled with his wounded shoulder. The man was in
Eifort and Brown each took separate chairs. No one wanted to sleep upstairs because of the smell.
The doc snored throughout the night.
Lance awoke in a cold sweat around midnight. His pulse raced as the memories of a nightmare faded away.
He got up and walked around the first floor, peering through the windows, ensuring that nothing stalked in from the fields. After twenty minutes of pacing, he went back to the pullout bed and slept fitfully until Cass shook him awake in the morning.
“What?” He sat up and rubbed sleep dust from his eyes.
“Breakfast is ready.”
“What’re we eating?”
“Cold soup.”
Lance licked his lips. “Yum.”
“Better than cold baked beans again.”
During a two-day stretch the week before, they’d lived entirely on canned beans. A house they had raided had an extensive stockpile of them in the basement. The entire boat was filled with methane gas both nights.
They ate cans of corn chowder on the front porch as the sun rose over the fields. Mountains lay beyond, trees extending across the skyline. A bird chirped from a feeder hanging at the end of the porch.
Lance breathed in the country air, content to sit there for the time being. He agreed with Brown—he should have moved to the country years ago. Though it took a significant amount of work to live like this, it felt more rewarding, more personal.
He enjoyed the convenience of the city, but he thought that the bustling nature of it added to the depression he’d dealt with.
Storm clouds crept over the mountains by the time they finished eating.
Eifort found a closet filled with camping equipment by the back office. She loaded the truck with sleeping bags, matches, and flashlights. The guns were already in the backseat, along with all the ammunition they could find.
A water pump jutted out of the ground in the backyard from which sweet, clear well water came. Lance gorged himself on it, relishing the taste of chemical-free nature. The water sloshed in his stomach as he went back to the porch and collapsed onto the swing.
“Going to rain soon,” he said lazily.
Brown nodded, pursing his lips. “We should probably stay here until it passes. Why risk an accident?”
They all agreed and sat quietly, watching as the storm rolled its way down the mountain range. Lance wasn’t sure how they would get in an accident with no one else driving on the roads, but he liked the idea of sitting around the farm for a while longer.
Eifort spotted jet contrails through a gap in the clouds just as the first rain plopped to the dirt. “Someone is still out there.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t dropped bombs on the major cities yet,” Lance said.
“Maybe they will.” Cass chewed on a piece of rhubarb she found growing by the nearest barn.
The first crack of thunder came shortly thereafter, silencing all of them as they watched sheets of rain glide across the fields. Water poured from the roof gutters, soaking the earth around the house.
Cass got up and pulled her half-shirt over her head, exposing her sports bra.
“I don’t think they would appreciate us getting it on right in front of them,” Lance said, gesturing to Eifort.
“Shut up, dumbass.” Cass went down the steps, tilting her face to the sky, her hair soaking through quickly.
Her arms lifted from her sides, sticking straight out, palms up. “Get down here—this feels amazing!”
Eifort and Brown shared a look before she jumped up and pulled her tank top off. Lance tried not to laugh when he caught the doc staring at her as she joined Cass on the lawn. She spun around, her bare feet splashing in the soaked grass.
Lance got off the swing and went inside, jogging up the stairs. He ignored the smell of decay as he went into the master bathroom and grabbed a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo.
Eifort was helping Brown get his shirt off as he struggled with his wounded shoulder. The man was in
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