Read Online Zombies! (Episode 4): The Sick and the Dead by Ivan Turner - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ivan Turner
Tags: Zombies
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now but the apartment was empty. The shades were drawn so it was dark. He reached around the side of the door frame and found a switch. It lit up a sixty watt entryway bulb. It was more than enough light to show him that the small space was clear. Checking first behind the door, he moved inside.
Culph was going to be pissed.
Inside, he discovered a small apartment, perfect for a single woman. There was a certain amount of taste to the décor but it bespoke of a person whose interests lay elsewhere. Much of what he saw was either minimalist or practical or both.
The entryway led into a short corridor. On the left was an opening that showed a sizeable kitchen. On the right was a small square room that clearly served as the living room. Further back, Heron could see an open door with light coming from it. From his less than ideal perspective, he guessed it was a bathroom. Opposite the bathroom was a closed door that had the look of a closet. At the end of the corridor was a darkened bedroom.
Heart beating in his chest, cancerous lungs trying to keep up with his heavy breathing, Heron moved inside, flipping on lights as he went. He took a glance in the kitchen and a glance in the living room. Both empty upon observation. There weren't many places to hide in the kitchen. There was a small table with 2 chairs and a tablecloth. Though he didn't see any shadows under the covering, he checked it just to be sure.
The kitchen was clear.
Next he checked the living room. To say that there were plenty of places to hide in that room was best classified as an accurate overstatement. Compared to the kitchen, this room was a maze of furniture and draperies. Compared to other places, it was practically bare. Heron cleared the room in less than a minute, satisfied that there was nowhere a human, even a child, could hide.
As he moved down the corridor toward the bathroom, the odor grew stronger. It didn't escape him that the fact that the bathroom light was on was a good indication that he would find something in there. And so he did. Splattered across the floor was a Jackson Pollack pattern of dark spots and thin lines. Though the hue of the spots was different in different places, it was definitely blood. The greatest concentration of the blood was on the side of the bathtub itself. It looked as if a great big balloon full of blood had been broken against the it. There was also blood on the toilet and blood in the sink. The color of the blood in the sink was lighter, washed out. Someone had tried to clean his hands but not bothered to rinse out the sink.
There was no body.
All of a sudden, Heron felt very trapped in the apartment. He turned on his heels to cover the door and saw nothing in the lit hallway. He began running over his sweep in his mind. Had he covered all of the possible hiding spots? Did the zombie slip past him while he was investigating the bathroom? Basically, he now realized that there must be a zombie in the apartment and it could be anywhere. It didn't occur to him that a zombie likely wouldn't have just walked past the occupied bathroom, ignoring him completely. Sweating, he poked his head out into the corridor. He looked left, toward the darkened bedroom, and right, back the way he had come. There was no indication that anything was different from before. Down the corridor he could see the open front door. God Damn! How stupid was he? If it got by him, it could be outside now. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
He tensed, ready to rush the open door when he heard something from the bedroom. He froze, his body going numb. Heron had not dealt directly with the undead since his chance encounter at Sisters of Charity . His surgery had kept him chained to his house and then to a desk for a long time. Though he'd been on the go for a week, he still hadn't taken any calls. That he was there in that apartment was just the result of the favor he was doing for Abby.
He knew he shouldn't
Culph was going to be pissed.
Inside, he discovered a small apartment, perfect for a single woman. There was a certain amount of taste to the décor but it bespoke of a person whose interests lay elsewhere. Much of what he saw was either minimalist or practical or both.
The entryway led into a short corridor. On the left was an opening that showed a sizeable kitchen. On the right was a small square room that clearly served as the living room. Further back, Heron could see an open door with light coming from it. From his less than ideal perspective, he guessed it was a bathroom. Opposite the bathroom was a closed door that had the look of a closet. At the end of the corridor was a darkened bedroom.
Heart beating in his chest, cancerous lungs trying to keep up with his heavy breathing, Heron moved inside, flipping on lights as he went. He took a glance in the kitchen and a glance in the living room. Both empty upon observation. There weren't many places to hide in the kitchen. There was a small table with 2 chairs and a tablecloth. Though he didn't see any shadows under the covering, he checked it just to be sure.
The kitchen was clear.
Next he checked the living room. To say that there were plenty of places to hide in that room was best classified as an accurate overstatement. Compared to the kitchen, this room was a maze of furniture and draperies. Compared to other places, it was practically bare. Heron cleared the room in less than a minute, satisfied that there was nowhere a human, even a child, could hide.
As he moved down the corridor toward the bathroom, the odor grew stronger. It didn't escape him that the fact that the bathroom light was on was a good indication that he would find something in there. And so he did. Splattered across the floor was a Jackson Pollack pattern of dark spots and thin lines. Though the hue of the spots was different in different places, it was definitely blood. The greatest concentration of the blood was on the side of the bathtub itself. It looked as if a great big balloon full of blood had been broken against the it. There was also blood on the toilet and blood in the sink. The color of the blood in the sink was lighter, washed out. Someone had tried to clean his hands but not bothered to rinse out the sink.
There was no body.
All of a sudden, Heron felt very trapped in the apartment. He turned on his heels to cover the door and saw nothing in the lit hallway. He began running over his sweep in his mind. Had he covered all of the possible hiding spots? Did the zombie slip past him while he was investigating the bathroom? Basically, he now realized that there must be a zombie in the apartment and it could be anywhere. It didn't occur to him that a zombie likely wouldn't have just walked past the occupied bathroom, ignoring him completely. Sweating, he poked his head out into the corridor. He looked left, toward the darkened bedroom, and right, back the way he had come. There was no indication that anything was different from before. Down the corridor he could see the open front door. God Damn! How stupid was he? If it got by him, it could be outside now. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
He tensed, ready to rush the open door when he heard something from the bedroom. He froze, his body going numb. Heron had not dealt directly with the undead since his chance encounter at Sisters of Charity . His surgery had kept him chained to his house and then to a desk for a long time. Though he'd been on the go for a week, he still hadn't taken any calls. That he was there in that apartment was just the result of the favor he was doing for Abby.
He knew he shouldn't
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