Read Online Zomb-Pocalypse by Megan Berry - Free Book Online Page B

never stopped—as the zombie gives its own final shake and stops moving permanently.
    I leave the knife in the zombie’s skull and turn to walk away. I’m sure I’m going to throw up again. As I huddle in the corner of the room, waiting for the familiar burn in my throat, it doesn’t come. I suck in deep, steadying breaths and oddly begin to feel my pulse hammer a little less.
    Good God, am I actually getting used to this crap? Ryan pulls his knife from the corpse and uses a pillowcase he found in the bedroom to wipe the gore off.
    Ryan gives me a nod and I respond with a sickly smile.
    “Happy now?” I ask, and he frowns.
    “I didn’t make you do that to be mean, Jane. Nothing about this situation makes me happy, but I want you to be able to survive.” Ryan looks pissed off at me.
    I deflate even more, if that’s possible. I think about saying sorry, but he’s already moved away from me, and the snub hurts.
    “Let’s clear the rest of the house,” he barks the orders and motions for Megan to follow him.
    Neither of them wait to see if I follow, but of course I do. I’m too chicken to be alone.
    We move through the house, silent as wraiths, following the beam of the flashlight. It’s pretty much pitch black now, and I’m kicking myself that we didn’t stop sooner. All of the rooms are clear upstairs, so we move back downstairs. Ryan points to a door we haven’t opened yet, and we all stand frozen outside listening. Ryan opens the door with his knife at the ready, and all three of us brace ourselves as the unmistakable smell of death hits us. We wait in the threshold while Ryan swings his light back and forth. It’s a garage with a car inside, but nothing runs out to attack us.
    “Be careful,” Ryan whispers as he moves deeper into the room.
    It feels like the beginning of every horror movie I have ever seen. I want to yell out, “Don’t go in the garage!” But Ryan and Megan already think I’m the weakest link, so I keep my mouth shut.
    Ryan scans the room with his light, and it’s just bare walls and a few paint cans. Next, he gets down on his knees and does a sweep under the car.
    Something catches my eye. I look inside the car and let out an involuntary squeak. There’s a body sitting in the driver’s seat.
    Ryan swings around to look at me, and I point to the car. He shines the light inside, illuminating the corpse; this one appearing to be dead for real.
    It’s an older woman. If I had to guess, I would say the man we just killed in the bedroom was her husband. Ryan shines the light back to the tailpipe, and there’s a green garden hose sticking out of it that loops back into the window.
    “She killed herself.” Megan says, making me jump. Her voice sounds overly loud inside the small garage.
    “The house is clear,” Ryan says, turning away dispassionately.
    If I hadn’t seen his face at that exact moment, I would have thought none of this bothered him.
    “Let’s go get Abby, cover the windows, and search for useable supplies,” he suggests.
    We are surprisingly efficient as we move through the kitchen, pilfering canned goods to add to our slowly growing pile. Ryan and Abby tape black garbage bags over the windows to keep the light of the flashlights from getting out while Megan and I pull together a semi-decent dinner of salty spam on crackers with canned peaches. We eat in silence and wash it down with warm pop that we found in the fridge. Ryan finds a beer and pops the top, taking a long swallow.  I stare at him from underneath my eyelashes, wondering if he is old enough to drink it legally—not that it matters anymore.
    Upstairs, we tape more bags over the windows and settle into the master bedroom. There is a king-sized bed that we decide to share to keep warm. There are some candles next to the bed. Megan walks over and lights them up. In an instant, the room is illuminated in a soft glow. Abby sits on the bed while Ryan claim’s the chair. I go into the bathroom to wash my