Read Online Voodoo Plague - 01 by Dirk Patton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dirk Patton
Ads: Link
off a shot as she launched herself like a
missile. I was happy to see the long dormant skills hadn’t atrophied too much
as the hollow point round punched through her face and continued on to blow out
the back of her head.
Frozen for half
a second I stared at the twitching corpse then swiveled to scan the driveway.
I didn’t see any additional threats, but then I hadn’t seen the female that had
just nearly killed me. Standing up I kicked the corpse out of the garage and
jerked the door down, slapping a locking pin home to secure us inside.
“How do I shut
the engine off,” Rachel asked out the open driver side window. “We don’t need
to asphyxiate ourselves after surviving this long.”
Opening the door
I reached across her bare legs and disconnected the two wires that kept the
engine running. The diesel clattered to a stop and silence descended in the
garage, the ticking of the cooling engine the only sound.
I rolled the
truck window up, locked the door and after telling Rachel to stay put I closed
her in the cab. The next ten minutes were spent checking the entire garage and
office area and making sure all the entrances were secure. Satisfied at last I
returned to the truck and motioned Rachel out.
Stepping stiffly
down from the cab she looked down at the puddle of blood on the floor from the
infected I had shot, then her gaze moved to the front driver side tire which
was completely flat. A whole the size of a half dollar was visible in the
sidewall.
Unlike in the
movies where you see the hero shoot someone in the head and everything behind
that person gets splattered in only blood and brains, in real life there’s also
a bullet that exits the back of the head and can still cause damage. The shot
I was so proud of had exited the infected woman’s head and torn through the
sidewall of the tire.
My body cried
for sleep, but I wasn’t going to rest without making sure our transportation
was ready to go. Finding a floor jack I raised the truck and got the tire changed.
I searched the garage but they apparently didn’t sell tires so we were stuck
going forward without a spare. I still put the ruined tire and wheel into the
back of the truck in case we could find a replacement tire as we traveled.
Next I inspected
the truck for damage. The gleaming push bar on the front bumper was now
scuffed and scratched from pushing our way out of the ambush, but it was still
solid. There were numerous bullet holes in the truck’s sheet metal and glass
as well as the cracked rear window from the infected female that had tried to
head butt her way in. I reinforced the glass as best I could with duct tape.
Raising the hood
I checked over the engine. Hoses and belts were good, oil and coolant were
fine as well. Closing the hood I looked to the back of the garage bay and
noticed a roll of heavy gauge wire mesh. Having seen how quickly our windows
were failing I dragged the wire over to the truck then went in search of tools.
I had finished
covering the back window with the wire mesh, cut to size and attached around
the edge of the glass with sheet metal screws into the truck’s body, when
Rachel returned. She was barefoot and wearing a set of mechanics coveralls
that would have been large on me, and she had wet hair and a clean face.
“Think that will
stop them?” She asked, combing her fingers through her hair.
“It will at
least slow them down,” I answered, driving the first screw for one of the side
windows. “You look better.”
“I feel better.
I’m just glad the water is still on.”
Rachel watched
me work for a few moments, then stepped up beside me and started helping.
Working together we had all of the truck’s glass covered in less than an hour.
Stepping back I appraised our handiwork. It wasn’t pretty, but I doubted the
glass by itself would survive another day.
We spent another
half hour gathering jugs of motor oil, anti-freeze, brake fluid,
missile. I was happy to see the long dormant skills hadn’t atrophied too much
as the hollow point round punched through her face and continued on to blow out
the back of her head.
Frozen for half
a second I stared at the twitching corpse then swiveled to scan the driveway.
I didn’t see any additional threats, but then I hadn’t seen the female that had
just nearly killed me. Standing up I kicked the corpse out of the garage and
jerked the door down, slapping a locking pin home to secure us inside.
“How do I shut
the engine off,” Rachel asked out the open driver side window. “We don’t need
to asphyxiate ourselves after surviving this long.”
Opening the door
I reached across her bare legs and disconnected the two wires that kept the
engine running. The diesel clattered to a stop and silence descended in the
garage, the ticking of the cooling engine the only sound.
I rolled the
truck window up, locked the door and after telling Rachel to stay put I closed
her in the cab. The next ten minutes were spent checking the entire garage and
office area and making sure all the entrances were secure. Satisfied at last I
returned to the truck and motioned Rachel out.
Stepping stiffly
down from the cab she looked down at the puddle of blood on the floor from the
infected I had shot, then her gaze moved to the front driver side tire which
was completely flat. A whole the size of a half dollar was visible in the
sidewall.
Unlike in the
movies where you see the hero shoot someone in the head and everything behind
that person gets splattered in only blood and brains, in real life there’s also
a bullet that exits the back of the head and can still cause damage. The shot
I was so proud of had exited the infected woman’s head and torn through the
sidewall of the tire.
My body cried
for sleep, but I wasn’t going to rest without making sure our transportation
was ready to go. Finding a floor jack I raised the truck and got the tire changed.
I searched the garage but they apparently didn’t sell tires so we were stuck
going forward without a spare. I still put the ruined tire and wheel into the
back of the truck in case we could find a replacement tire as we traveled.
Next I inspected
the truck for damage. The gleaming push bar on the front bumper was now
scuffed and scratched from pushing our way out of the ambush, but it was still
solid. There were numerous bullet holes in the truck’s sheet metal and glass
as well as the cracked rear window from the infected female that had tried to
head butt her way in. I reinforced the glass as best I could with duct tape.
Raising the hood
I checked over the engine. Hoses and belts were good, oil and coolant were
fine as well. Closing the hood I looked to the back of the garage bay and
noticed a roll of heavy gauge wire mesh. Having seen how quickly our windows
were failing I dragged the wire over to the truck then went in search of tools.
I had finished
covering the back window with the wire mesh, cut to size and attached around
the edge of the glass with sheet metal screws into the truck’s body, when
Rachel returned. She was barefoot and wearing a set of mechanics coveralls
that would have been large on me, and she had wet hair and a clean face.
“Think that will
stop them?” She asked, combing her fingers through her hair.
“It will at
least slow them down,” I answered, driving the first screw for one of the side
windows. “You look better.”
“I feel better.
I’m just glad the water is still on.”
Rachel watched
me work for a few moments, then stepped up beside me and started helping.
Working together we had all of the truck’s glass covered in less than an hour.
Stepping back I appraised our handiwork. It wasn’t pretty, but I doubted the
glass by itself would survive another day.
We spent another
half hour gathering jugs of motor oil, anti-freeze, brake fluid,
Similar Books
