Read Online The Zone: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Infection Chronicles Book 1) by Tripp Ellis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tripp Ellis
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looked like every other clunker on the road covered in dirt and grit. The problem with modern cars was their antitheft systems. Biometric authentication made them virtually impossible to steal. Fingerprints, retinal scans, voiceprint, and even brain wave readings were used to identify the owner. It wasn’t the type of car that you could just jimmy the door.
The problem with these biometric systems is that individual data is stored in a multitude of servers. When those servers are hacked, data gets stolen. And you can’t change your retina, or your fingerprints. Well, you can, but it’s painful and leaves you with some rather unusual scars.
Delroy looked at the license plate. Within seconds, he was able to cross reference the owner—Martin Richey. A few clicks on his sat-mobile device and he was able to access Martin’s profile on a pirate site. It took a second to download his data. With Martin’s voiceprint profile, the device allowed a user to type in words and sentences—the device would then read back the phrase in Martin’s voice.
Delroy typed: Open .
A moment later the device said, “Open.”
The doors to the Vexpa unlocked. For as dumb as Delroy looked, he knew his way around security systems.
Delroy climbed inside and typed: Start .
The starter slurred a few times once the device said, “Start.” But the engine didn’t turn over. Delroy tried again, and the starter warbled. One more time. Finally, the vehicle roared to life.
Steele watched as Delroy swung the car around and pulled alongside the SUV. Delroy popped the trunk and Steele began transferring the duffel bags. A crowd of lurkers was starting to gather.
Soon, the ass end of the Vexpa was drooping. Parker ushered Chloe into the back seat. Steele slammed the trunk and hopped in the car. He looked at his watch—39 minutes to get to the extraction point. Plenty of time.
Delroy hit the gas, and the Vexpa lurched forward.
“Mr. Carlisle,” Chloe shouted.
Steele grimaced, then nodded to Delroy. He mashed the brakes.
“Is he back in the SUV?” Steele asked.
Chloe nodded.
Steele pushed through the door and marched toward the SUV. There were a few lurkers stumbling near the vehicle. Steele unsheathed the sword and twirled it. This was the last time he was going to retrieve that damn doll, he thought.
Steele slashed the blade like a ninja and lopped off a few heads. They hit the ground with a wet splat. He pulled open the Range Rover’s door and grabbed Mr. Carlisle from the seat.
When he spun around, another lurker lunged at him, clamping down on Steele’s forearm. Jagged, stained and yellow teeth gnawed at him.
CHAPTER 14
STEELE FELT HIS heart pounding in his chest. He had gotten careless, he thought. Steele kicked the snarling bag of bones to the ground. He swung the blade and slashed the lurker’s throat. Its head fell backward, still attached by a flap of skin. Blood spurted in the air from the carotid artery. The cervical spine protruded through the stump that used to be the thing’s neck. The body flopped around on the concrete. The head was still gnawing and gnashing on the ground.
More infected were gathering around.
Steele glanced down to his arm to take a damage assessment. The lurker had gnashed on his titanium forearm. Its grimy teeth didn’t puncture Steele’s skin. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, then dashed to the Vexpa.
Steele hopped in, Delroy floored it. The tires squealed, and the Vexpa darted down the street. Several infected were staggering in the road.
“Warning: objects in roadway,” said the automated safety control. It was a soft, soothing female voice. “Please take evasive maneuvers.” The Vexpa began to automatically brake.
“Override active safety features. Full manual,” Delroy yelled. But the car didn’t respond. It continued to break.
“Shit,” Delroy exclaimed. The car ground to a halt. Delroy grabbed his mobile and typed in a phrase. Lurkers
The problem with these biometric systems is that individual data is stored in a multitude of servers. When those servers are hacked, data gets stolen. And you can’t change your retina, or your fingerprints. Well, you can, but it’s painful and leaves you with some rather unusual scars.
Delroy looked at the license plate. Within seconds, he was able to cross reference the owner—Martin Richey. A few clicks on his sat-mobile device and he was able to access Martin’s profile on a pirate site. It took a second to download his data. With Martin’s voiceprint profile, the device allowed a user to type in words and sentences—the device would then read back the phrase in Martin’s voice.
Delroy typed: Open .
A moment later the device said, “Open.”
The doors to the Vexpa unlocked. For as dumb as Delroy looked, he knew his way around security systems.
Delroy climbed inside and typed: Start .
The starter slurred a few times once the device said, “Start.” But the engine didn’t turn over. Delroy tried again, and the starter warbled. One more time. Finally, the vehicle roared to life.
Steele watched as Delroy swung the car around and pulled alongside the SUV. Delroy popped the trunk and Steele began transferring the duffel bags. A crowd of lurkers was starting to gather.
Soon, the ass end of the Vexpa was drooping. Parker ushered Chloe into the back seat. Steele slammed the trunk and hopped in the car. He looked at his watch—39 minutes to get to the extraction point. Plenty of time.
Delroy hit the gas, and the Vexpa lurched forward.
“Mr. Carlisle,” Chloe shouted.
Steele grimaced, then nodded to Delroy. He mashed the brakes.
“Is he back in the SUV?” Steele asked.
Chloe nodded.
Steele pushed through the door and marched toward the SUV. There were a few lurkers stumbling near the vehicle. Steele unsheathed the sword and twirled it. This was the last time he was going to retrieve that damn doll, he thought.
Steele slashed the blade like a ninja and lopped off a few heads. They hit the ground with a wet splat. He pulled open the Range Rover’s door and grabbed Mr. Carlisle from the seat.
When he spun around, another lurker lunged at him, clamping down on Steele’s forearm. Jagged, stained and yellow teeth gnawed at him.
CHAPTER 14
STEELE FELT HIS heart pounding in his chest. He had gotten careless, he thought. Steele kicked the snarling bag of bones to the ground. He swung the blade and slashed the lurker’s throat. Its head fell backward, still attached by a flap of skin. Blood spurted in the air from the carotid artery. The cervical spine protruded through the stump that used to be the thing’s neck. The body flopped around on the concrete. The head was still gnawing and gnashing on the ground.
More infected were gathering around.
Steele glanced down to his arm to take a damage assessment. The lurker had gnashed on his titanium forearm. Its grimy teeth didn’t puncture Steele’s skin. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, then dashed to the Vexpa.
Steele hopped in, Delroy floored it. The tires squealed, and the Vexpa darted down the street. Several infected were staggering in the road.
“Warning: objects in roadway,” said the automated safety control. It was a soft, soothing female voice. “Please take evasive maneuvers.” The Vexpa began to automatically brake.
“Override active safety features. Full manual,” Delroy yelled. But the car didn’t respond. It continued to break.
“Shit,” Delroy exclaimed. The car ground to a halt. Delroy grabbed his mobile and typed in a phrase. Lurkers
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