Read Online The Tide: Breakwater (Tide Series Book 2) by Anthony J Melchiorri - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Anthony J Melchiorri
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climbing into his throat as he stared. Between those empty chairs and tables, humanoid silhouettes staggered slowly back and forth. They moved with no particular urgency, stumbling through the darkness. Navid’s arms shook. He slowly drew back from the door and closed it as noiselessly as possible.
Abby cocked her head.
“Crazies,” Navid whispered. His stomach grumbled again.
He wanted to run upstairs and hide, but there was no turning back. They needed food and water. Going through the cafeteria was no longer an option. Not with those things meandering about in the shadows.
Abby pointed down another hall and started forward. Navid snuck after. They navigated between empty hospital beds, tipped-over trash cans, and the occasional IV pole. Abby abruptly stopped, and Navid almost ran into her.
Then he saw what had made her freeze.
A body—if Navid could even call it that anymore—lay on the tiles in a puddle of dried blood. Its skin had been shredded, and little remained of its organs. Mostly, Navid saw only the broken bones of someone who apparently had met their end at the hands of the crazies. Abby held her hand over her mouth while she trudged past the person’s remains. Navid gingerly stepped over the cracked skull and busted spine.
A shiver raced through his flesh, and a sensation of lightheadedness almost overcame him. He paused for a second, leaning on the handrail on the hospital wall, and waited for the feeling to pass.
Abby pulled him onward until they came to an Employees Only sign above a single door. Navid understood where Abby had taken them. Judging by their location in relation to the cafeteria, this must lead to the kitchens.
Abby tightened her fingers around the door handle, but Navid shook his head. He didn’t want her to go in first. If there were crazies or violent looters or who-the-hell-knew-what inside, he wanted to be in front of her. He wanted her to have a chance to escape.
She frowned, but he took her place at the door, slowly twisted the handle, and opened it a crack. He held his breath as he peeked inside. The smell of rotting fruit and meat hit him with an almost palpable force. He began to retch but held it in. He forced himself to survey the kitchen. This time, he saw no lingering crazies. Just stainless steel counters littered with utensils, cookware, and spilled food. Heaps of trash and empty tin cans were piled about the floor. Navid ushered Abby inside, and they tiptoed through the wreckage toward the shelves near the rear of the kitchen. Cans and boxes of food, most still undisturbed, were arranged in rows. Enough food to last Abby and him a year. Maybe even two, Navid thought.
They gathered as much as they could into two cardboard boxes, one for each of them to carry. When the boxes were filled, they carefully shuffled back to the door they’d entered through.
Unable to see his feet, Navid kicked something. It pinged against the empty cans resting on the floor. He and Abby froze and stared at what he’d kicked. His stomach turned over as he realized it was a bone—a human bone. He looked down at his feet. A skeletal hand was sticking out from under a rolling cart. Between the empty boxes and rotting produce, he saw a mess of scattered human bones.
He and Abby had been so focused on the prospect of food, and their senses so overwhelmed by the malodor of the spoiled food, that they’d missed the bones, picked clean by the crazies, hidden by the piles of refuse.
A low growl echoed through the kitchen. Navid twisted and saw a humanoid shape come out of the open walk-in cooler at the far end. The red emergency lights flashed over its face. Long hair trailed over its shoulders, and it wore the tattered remains of a line cook’s white uniform. Knobby growths jutted out around its scalp, and its fingers seemed to be long and serrated like kitchen knives.
All thoughts of Navid’s empty stomach were immediately forgotten. He dropped the box of food and yelled,
Abby cocked her head.
“Crazies,” Navid whispered. His stomach grumbled again.
He wanted to run upstairs and hide, but there was no turning back. They needed food and water. Going through the cafeteria was no longer an option. Not with those things meandering about in the shadows.
Abby pointed down another hall and started forward. Navid snuck after. They navigated between empty hospital beds, tipped-over trash cans, and the occasional IV pole. Abby abruptly stopped, and Navid almost ran into her.
Then he saw what had made her freeze.
A body—if Navid could even call it that anymore—lay on the tiles in a puddle of dried blood. Its skin had been shredded, and little remained of its organs. Mostly, Navid saw only the broken bones of someone who apparently had met their end at the hands of the crazies. Abby held her hand over her mouth while she trudged past the person’s remains. Navid gingerly stepped over the cracked skull and busted spine.
A shiver raced through his flesh, and a sensation of lightheadedness almost overcame him. He paused for a second, leaning on the handrail on the hospital wall, and waited for the feeling to pass.
Abby pulled him onward until they came to an Employees Only sign above a single door. Navid understood where Abby had taken them. Judging by their location in relation to the cafeteria, this must lead to the kitchens.
Abby tightened her fingers around the door handle, but Navid shook his head. He didn’t want her to go in first. If there were crazies or violent looters or who-the-hell-knew-what inside, he wanted to be in front of her. He wanted her to have a chance to escape.
She frowned, but he took her place at the door, slowly twisted the handle, and opened it a crack. He held his breath as he peeked inside. The smell of rotting fruit and meat hit him with an almost palpable force. He began to retch but held it in. He forced himself to survey the kitchen. This time, he saw no lingering crazies. Just stainless steel counters littered with utensils, cookware, and spilled food. Heaps of trash and empty tin cans were piled about the floor. Navid ushered Abby inside, and they tiptoed through the wreckage toward the shelves near the rear of the kitchen. Cans and boxes of food, most still undisturbed, were arranged in rows. Enough food to last Abby and him a year. Maybe even two, Navid thought.
They gathered as much as they could into two cardboard boxes, one for each of them to carry. When the boxes were filled, they carefully shuffled back to the door they’d entered through.
Unable to see his feet, Navid kicked something. It pinged against the empty cans resting on the floor. He and Abby froze and stared at what he’d kicked. His stomach turned over as he realized it was a bone—a human bone. He looked down at his feet. A skeletal hand was sticking out from under a rolling cart. Between the empty boxes and rotting produce, he saw a mess of scattered human bones.
He and Abby had been so focused on the prospect of food, and their senses so overwhelmed by the malodor of the spoiled food, that they’d missed the bones, picked clean by the crazies, hidden by the piles of refuse.
A low growl echoed through the kitchen. Navid twisted and saw a humanoid shape come out of the open walk-in cooler at the far end. The red emergency lights flashed over its face. Long hair trailed over its shoulders, and it wore the tattered remains of a line cook’s white uniform. Knobby growths jutted out around its scalp, and its fingers seemed to be long and serrated like kitchen knives.
All thoughts of Navid’s empty stomach were immediately forgotten. He dropped the box of food and yelled,
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