Read Online Zombie Ascension (Book 1): Necropolis Now by Vincenzo Bilof - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Vincenzo Bilof
Tags: Zombies
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command. "We're right in the middle of hostile territory. Can you get to your feet, soldier?"
"I hope we don't need a dictionary to know what the hell that was," Miles said, his tongue tracing the length of his upper lip, back and forth, back and forth. "We can't deny what that was. You want me to say it, boss? You want me to tell you what kind of shit you dropped us into?"
"Answer my question! Can you get to your feet?"
"We're just three people! Can't see shit! What the hell is this, boss? What're we supposed to do now?"
Bob slapped him across the face. "Get your shit together. We need to move out and get you to the barricades. If you want to live, you get on those boots of yours and walk, goddammit, before I fuck up the other side of your face! Do you hear me?"
"I'm still here," Miles seemed to calm down, and his uncovered eye flickered to Vega. "We're just teammates. Here to do a job. Going to die anyway, like you said, boss. Ain't got nothing better to do. Canceled my dinner plans with some broad who can speak a thousand languages. Fuck it, what good is a face, anyway? Just need a dick and a rifle. Hooo rah!"
Vega and Bob lifted him to his feet. .
Within the depths of the Renaissance Center's massive, powerless hotel, glass shattered. The smell of a gunfight, of burning paper mixed with chalk, cordite and sweat, stained the oxygen which Vega greedily sucked into her lungs.
"We need to get to the street," Bob said as if it was nothing more than a statement of fact. "We could be attacked again, so we can't assume anyone's a friend unless they communicate. We protect our own asses, and we stick close."
"They were already dead," Mile said. "They were already fucking dead! They were dead !"
"And if there's more, they can hear you!" Bob said. "They heard me waste those other two. But if they're dead, they shouldn't be able to hear anything, or smell, or breathe…"
"Bob…" Vega wasn't sure what she thought, or felt. Nothing made any sense.
"Let's move," Bob kept his cool.
They walked down another flight of stairs; Miles cursed several times as if the rest of his face threatened to fall off. They were all thinking the same thing, but it seemed too ridiculous, and yet, it was happening around them. They wanted to deny what they saw, but they were trained to prevail without thinking, relying on their battle-instincts. Their bodies responded ahead of their minds.
This was how they survived under fire.
They were right above the lobby, and Bob stopped them. "This is… I know… he told me..."
"What?" Vega asked. "What is it?"
"I know it doesn't make sense," Bob said, "but they really are dead. I don't want to believe it, but we have to assume… we just have to kick some ass. Look down there." He pointed to the lobby below them.
Clustered near the gift shops, hundreds of people bumped into one another, attempting to climb the steps toward the soldiers, already attracted to the noise from their brief confrontation. The flashlights moved over soldiers in their fatigues, some of them with weapons still clutched tightly in their fists. Some of them slipped on spots of blood.
"Hullo there, motherfuckers!" Bob shouted.
"This shit's for real," Vega performed the sign of the cross.
In the back of her mind, the mission disappeared. For the first time in her life, she felt helpless, because she didn't know who, or what, her enemy was.
Miles, with one hand pressed against his face, snarled and lifted his M16.
"They sure as shit don't seem friendly," Vega said. "We can't take any chances. It's like… everyone who died… became one of them. Just like in the movies."
The stairwell that led upward was choked with hundreds of clustered shapes that all turned to the soldiers as one, their purpose defined.
Miles whispered, "Boss… Vega's right on this one. We aren't walking out of here without a fight."
They waited for Bob to decide while they swept their guns over the crowd. Vega was tempted to lean on her trigger. What
"I hope we don't need a dictionary to know what the hell that was," Miles said, his tongue tracing the length of his upper lip, back and forth, back and forth. "We can't deny what that was. You want me to say it, boss? You want me to tell you what kind of shit you dropped us into?"
"Answer my question! Can you get to your feet?"
"We're just three people! Can't see shit! What the hell is this, boss? What're we supposed to do now?"
Bob slapped him across the face. "Get your shit together. We need to move out and get you to the barricades. If you want to live, you get on those boots of yours and walk, goddammit, before I fuck up the other side of your face! Do you hear me?"
"I'm still here," Miles seemed to calm down, and his uncovered eye flickered to Vega. "We're just teammates. Here to do a job. Going to die anyway, like you said, boss. Ain't got nothing better to do. Canceled my dinner plans with some broad who can speak a thousand languages. Fuck it, what good is a face, anyway? Just need a dick and a rifle. Hooo rah!"
Vega and Bob lifted him to his feet. .
Within the depths of the Renaissance Center's massive, powerless hotel, glass shattered. The smell of a gunfight, of burning paper mixed with chalk, cordite and sweat, stained the oxygen which Vega greedily sucked into her lungs.
"We need to get to the street," Bob said as if it was nothing more than a statement of fact. "We could be attacked again, so we can't assume anyone's a friend unless they communicate. We protect our own asses, and we stick close."
"They were already dead," Mile said. "They were already fucking dead! They were dead !"
"And if there's more, they can hear you!" Bob said. "They heard me waste those other two. But if they're dead, they shouldn't be able to hear anything, or smell, or breathe…"
"Bob…" Vega wasn't sure what she thought, or felt. Nothing made any sense.
"Let's move," Bob kept his cool.
They walked down another flight of stairs; Miles cursed several times as if the rest of his face threatened to fall off. They were all thinking the same thing, but it seemed too ridiculous, and yet, it was happening around them. They wanted to deny what they saw, but they were trained to prevail without thinking, relying on their battle-instincts. Their bodies responded ahead of their minds.
This was how they survived under fire.
They were right above the lobby, and Bob stopped them. "This is… I know… he told me..."
"What?" Vega asked. "What is it?"
"I know it doesn't make sense," Bob said, "but they really are dead. I don't want to believe it, but we have to assume… we just have to kick some ass. Look down there." He pointed to the lobby below them.
Clustered near the gift shops, hundreds of people bumped into one another, attempting to climb the steps toward the soldiers, already attracted to the noise from their brief confrontation. The flashlights moved over soldiers in their fatigues, some of them with weapons still clutched tightly in their fists. Some of them slipped on spots of blood.
"Hullo there, motherfuckers!" Bob shouted.
"This shit's for real," Vega performed the sign of the cross.
In the back of her mind, the mission disappeared. For the first time in her life, she felt helpless, because she didn't know who, or what, her enemy was.
Miles, with one hand pressed against his face, snarled and lifted his M16.
"They sure as shit don't seem friendly," Vega said. "We can't take any chances. It's like… everyone who died… became one of them. Just like in the movies."
The stairwell that led upward was choked with hundreds of clustered shapes that all turned to the soldiers as one, their purpose defined.
Miles whispered, "Boss… Vega's right on this one. We aren't walking out of here without a fight."
They waited for Bob to decide while they swept their guns over the crowd. Vega was tempted to lean on her trigger. What
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