Read Online This Rotten World (Book 1) by The Vocabulariast - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: The Vocabulariast
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
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down the stairwell,
Kevin coughing up blood the entire time. She fumbled at the front door, but
thankfully it was unlocked. Jason's shadowy shape teetered at the top of the
stairs, and then he suddenly lost his balance and rolled to the bottom. His arm
was clearly broken, but she didn't really care at the moment as she backed out
into the yard, tugging her dead son like a load of laundry in a gunny sack. She
knew he was dead, but she wasn't going to leave him behind. She would never
leave him behind.
Kevin rose
from the pile he had collapsed in, a bone poking through the skin of his
forearm. The lack of pain on his face made her skin crawl, and she began
yelling for help.
The cop car
was there, but the cops seemed completely uninterested in helping her. Instead
they seemed to be trying to get at the man in the back seat who was bashing his
head against the window. Blood ran down his black face into his bushy beard,
and when he saw her, a fire of hope lit his eyes.
"Lady!
Help me! Get me out of here!" he yelled.
She
continued dragging Kevin down the street, away from her murderous husband. She
didn't know what was going on, but she wouldn't stop until Kevin was safe. His
socks were soaked by the time she heard the window of the cop car break. As she
looked up, she saw the man, who had the tell-tale look of homelessness about
him, crawl out of the window. Despite her curiosity, the fact that Jason was
still chasing after them kept her moving down the street.
She had
dragged poor Kevin a block when one of her neighbors came running out of his
house. He was an old man in flannel pajama bottoms and a plain, white t-shirt.
At least 70-years-old, she had seen the man dutifully go for walks everyday for
the last ten years. Though they had never shared anything but a wave, she could
sense that he wanted to help her, which was good because she didn't know how
much longer she could drag Kevin.
The old man
helped her lift up her son, and with one of Kevin's arms over each of their
shoulders, they carried him inside and laid him down on the couch. The old man
ran over to the door, closed it, and locked it. It wasn't long before Jason was
at the door, pounding on it.
Katie was
unaware of any of it. She knelt next to the body of her son, holding his hand
and rocking back and forth while calling his name.
She didn't
even notice as the old man called the police and received a busy signal every
time. She had no idea how long he had been trying, as her grief seemed to
impair all sense of time. In the night, there was an explosion, and for a
second, Katie thought the world was ending, and she wouldn't have to bear being
without her son any longer. There were no trumpets, no plagues. Hell, pigs
didn't even fly. But she knew she would never have to be without her son again,
because he had sat up on the couch and was blinking his eyes.
Chapter 17: From Worse to Worser
"Get
that man secured!" Joan shouted as she ran down the hallway to where she
had left the sick old lady and her worried husband. Clara didn't know why, but
she followed along. There wasn't much she could do for Courtney now, as the two
security guards had him on the ground and were securing his hands and feet with
zip ties
A group of
doctors and patients had gathered around the curtained off room where the
screams had came from. Some had their hands over their faces. Other simply
stared in awe. Joan had enough of the gawking. Why weren't any of these people
acting? With a strong hand, she yanked back the curtain, and there she was, the
sweet, sick old lady chewing on her husband's corpse... scratch that, he wasn't
a corpse just yet.
His head
lifted slightly and he locked eyes with Joan, as if to say, "Why did you
leave me?" The thing that would stick with her wouldn't be the sights,
though they were horrific; the thing that really stuck in her memory was the
noise of the dying husband's intestines as the old lady's hands pulled them out
of his abdomen through a ragged
Kevin coughing up blood the entire time. She fumbled at the front door, but
thankfully it was unlocked. Jason's shadowy shape teetered at the top of the
stairs, and then he suddenly lost his balance and rolled to the bottom. His arm
was clearly broken, but she didn't really care at the moment as she backed out
into the yard, tugging her dead son like a load of laundry in a gunny sack. She
knew he was dead, but she wasn't going to leave him behind. She would never
leave him behind.
Kevin rose
from the pile he had collapsed in, a bone poking through the skin of his
forearm. The lack of pain on his face made her skin crawl, and she began
yelling for help.
The cop car
was there, but the cops seemed completely uninterested in helping her. Instead
they seemed to be trying to get at the man in the back seat who was bashing his
head against the window. Blood ran down his black face into his bushy beard,
and when he saw her, a fire of hope lit his eyes.
"Lady!
Help me! Get me out of here!" he yelled.
She
continued dragging Kevin down the street, away from her murderous husband. She
didn't know what was going on, but she wouldn't stop until Kevin was safe. His
socks were soaked by the time she heard the window of the cop car break. As she
looked up, she saw the man, who had the tell-tale look of homelessness about
him, crawl out of the window. Despite her curiosity, the fact that Jason was
still chasing after them kept her moving down the street.
She had
dragged poor Kevin a block when one of her neighbors came running out of his
house. He was an old man in flannel pajama bottoms and a plain, white t-shirt.
At least 70-years-old, she had seen the man dutifully go for walks everyday for
the last ten years. Though they had never shared anything but a wave, she could
sense that he wanted to help her, which was good because she didn't know how
much longer she could drag Kevin.
The old man
helped her lift up her son, and with one of Kevin's arms over each of their
shoulders, they carried him inside and laid him down on the couch. The old man
ran over to the door, closed it, and locked it. It wasn't long before Jason was
at the door, pounding on it.
Katie was
unaware of any of it. She knelt next to the body of her son, holding his hand
and rocking back and forth while calling his name.
She didn't
even notice as the old man called the police and received a busy signal every
time. She had no idea how long he had been trying, as her grief seemed to
impair all sense of time. In the night, there was an explosion, and for a
second, Katie thought the world was ending, and she wouldn't have to bear being
without her son any longer. There were no trumpets, no plagues. Hell, pigs
didn't even fly. But she knew she would never have to be without her son again,
because he had sat up on the couch and was blinking his eyes.
Chapter 17: From Worse to Worser
"Get
that man secured!" Joan shouted as she ran down the hallway to where she
had left the sick old lady and her worried husband. Clara didn't know why, but
she followed along. There wasn't much she could do for Courtney now, as the two
security guards had him on the ground and were securing his hands and feet with
zip ties
A group of
doctors and patients had gathered around the curtained off room where the
screams had came from. Some had their hands over their faces. Other simply
stared in awe. Joan had enough of the gawking. Why weren't any of these people
acting? With a strong hand, she yanked back the curtain, and there she was, the
sweet, sick old lady chewing on her husband's corpse... scratch that, he wasn't
a corpse just yet.
His head
lifted slightly and he locked eyes with Joan, as if to say, "Why did you
leave me?" The thing that would stick with her wouldn't be the sights,
though they were horrific; the thing that really stuck in her memory was the
noise of the dying husband's intestines as the old lady's hands pulled them out
of his abdomen through a ragged
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