Read Online The Turning: A Tale of the Living Dead by Kelly M. Hudson - Free Book Online Page B

his body
frozen.  Behind them, the dead clamored at the window.  Jenny put her hand
gently on Jeff’s shoulder. 
    “Let’s get out there,” she said,
pointing to the open doorway.  Jeff nodded, numb, and followed. 
    He should have been worried more
people were inside; more that could be readying an attack at any second.  But
he was too shocked by what had happened, and the adrenaline that had surged
through his body and pushed him this far suddenly left.  His knees buckled as
they walked into the darkness of the Food Bank and he threw himself to his
right and vomited.
    Behind him, Jenny claimed the
pistol from the headless body.
    Outside, the dead pressed at the
side of the building, their fingers clawing at the bottom of the window.  There
was no danger of them getting in unless they figured out how to climb, but even
if they did, Jeff figured, they didn’t have the strength to actually accomplish
the feat. 
    Jenny reached his side, armed with
the gun, as he wiped the vomit flecks from the corner of his mouth and the
zombie blood from the side of his face.
    Jeff stepped out into the main
part of the Food Bank, shotgun raised and ready for any more surprises.  None
came.  He was greeted with a wall of blackness, a darkness so deep and
bottomless it was like looking into a rich man's wallet.  He kept his ears open
for any sounds, any moans or movements that might betray another person lurking
in the dark.  He heard nothing.  Only the dead, ceaseless, outside.
    Jenny felt along the wall behind
them next to the office door and found a light switch.  She warned him and flicked
it on.
    The overhead lights glimmered and
revealed a long room that was half store and half kitchen/dining area.  There
were several tables arranged in front of Jeff with their chairs pushed in; a
long line of food service containers where hot and cold food stuffs were stored
to be dished out by servers; on the other side was the kitchen with a couple of
giant pizza stoves, a series of large refrigerators, and a sink and dishwashing
machine, along with a rack to hold all the plates and implements; and then
there was the store section behind him and to his left, a series of shelves
containing dozens of different kinds of canned goods.
    There appeared to be no one else
in the building.
    Jeff exhaled and relaxed for a
moment.
    Jenny slid up behind him and put
her hand on his shoulder.
    “You’re a really good shot,” she
said.  He looked at her and she pointed to the shotgun.  He stared at it like
it was made of uranium and quickly handed it over to her.  She gazed at him,
puzzled.
    “If you were so good with it, then
why didn’t you take it in the first place?” she said.
    “I don’t want to talk about it,”
he said.  He felt his stomach turning.  It had been a long, long time since
he’d fired a gun.  The last time he had was the worst day of his life.  So he’d
avoided them since, never easy in their presence, but over time, he got used to
them being around again.  Still, they bothered him.  And the simple fact that
within seconds of firing one he was suddenly so proficient again scared the
living hell out of him.  He supposed he should be happy about it, because they
were safe and alive, but it still unnerved him. 
    “Okay,” she said.  She let it
go.   
    Jenny searched the area.  It was
just like it appeared outside, a big warehouse, probably half the size of a football
field.  At the back, to their left, was a door.  She pointed it out and he
followed as she walked across the big space, wary and alert.  Jenny opened the
door and they looked inside.
    It was a loading and storage bay. 
At the far end was a set of double doors—shut and locked—and all about were
stacks of boxes of food stuffs.  They walked over to the door and peered out
the small, security glass windows.  Behind the building was a short driveway
with a large van parked near the doors.  Jeff looked at Jenny and the same
thought