Read Online The Hungry by Steve Hockensmith, Joe McKinney, Harry Shannon, Steven Booth - Free Book Online Page A

She wondered if he'd ever gotten around to reading those books, now that they'd split up. She also wondered if he'd actually tried some of those counseling techniques on Marilyn, the dried-up bitch who'd worn those humiliating undies. Then Miller wondered why she was even thinking about shit like that at a time like this. I mean, who cares? They'd split up long ago, right? So why does it still piss me off?
    "Come on, come on," chanted Terrill Lee, under his breath. Miller could feel his pulse rising. His muscular body was bow-tight with tension. Eyes riveted on something outside the front window. Miller now noticed that he'd lost some weight. His arms looked like he'd been hitting the gym.
    She struggled with the zipper on her dress. Terrill Lee, sensing her frustration, zipped it up for her, pinching her skin. Terrill Lee slung the shotgun over his shoulder and scooped up her uniform boots. "Penny, we're out of time, we gotta go, now!"
    Miller hefted the Smith, grabbed her badge. She felt naked without her uniform, strangely powerless and vulnerable. She allowed herself to be pulled down the hallway into the garage. The dress rustled in an almost sinister way. It was pristine and white and as lovely as the last time she'd worn it years ago. Miller's legs moved well, her stride was normal. Her body felt up to speed now, muscles much stronger and mind more focused.
    End of the hall, the garage door. He turned the handle. Miller said, "What's happening? What's out front?"
    Terrill Lee opened the door. That action revealed a spanking fresh Dodge Durango. He tossed Miller's boots on the passenger-side floor. "Get in and get your feet covered."
    "Damn it, talk to me. What is it?" She slid inside, pulled on the boots.
    The answer came from right outside, in the form of a loud engine—unmistakably a motorcycle. No, it was a shitload of motorcycles. Miller heard evil-sounding laughter floating on the breeze. The situation registered fully. There was a gang of bikers just outside and swarming up and down the street. Then, punctuating the staccato rumble of the bikes, she heard the equally unmistakable sound of glass shattering. Miller turned her head. She looked back into the hallway and took in a glowing, flickering light. She hesitated, but the steadily increasing smell of smoke made up her mind. They had to go.
    "I think they just firebombed us," Miller whispered. "Okay, let's get." She closed the vehicle's door.
    Terrill Lee got in the driver's seat. He handed Miller the shotgun and bandolier. "Keep them off us as long as you can. I'm going to haul ass."
    The hallway was dark. Fresh flames were visible and black smoke billowed out into the garage.
    "Whatever we're going to do, I'd recommend we do fairly soon," said Miller. "Otherwise, stick a thermometer up my butt and baste me every twenty minutes."
    "Showtime," said Terrill Lee.
    And now it was as if he had been doing this kind of thing all his life. He'd gone from pussy to Terminator with no in-between stages. He turned over the engine and gunned it to life. "Ma'am, please put on your seatbelt and keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times."
    Miller locked her belt and rolled her eyes. "Just go, cowboy."
    Terrill Lee braced himself. He threw the Durango into reverse and floored it without opening the garage door. They roared backwards. The flimsy wooden door splintered under the oncoming weight of the SUV. They were outside. Daylight flooded into the truck's windows. Everywhere there was smoke, gunfire, screams and a blinding glare.
    The scene outside was even bleaker than Miller had remembered from a couple of hours before. Almost all the quaint houses were ablaze. Torn body parts lay strewn on lawns, sidewalks and out in the street. Trash, wrecked vehicles, and other human detritus fully clogged the sidewalks and road. Two homes away a little blonde girl with no arms was walking in circles, drooling blood. She wore a Girl Scout uniform.
    The gang of raging bikers