Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 5): Wrath Read Online Free PDF

African necropolis.  
    The tallest of the buildings loomed over her, casting down a pattern of shadows that cut the sun’s heat. Michelle had to dig into her pocket to fetch out her red bandana to tie across her face. The stench of the dead was threatening her stomach and the fresh food she’d just put in it. The rag didn’t keep the stench of rot out, but it contained enough of it that she didn’t feel like she was about to retch.
    As she and her dead guide finally began to cross the massive bridge spanning the waterway that fed the mangroves inland, they saw their first and last survivor of Douala. Michelle froze when she heard the tell-tale pattern of feet hitting the pavement in rapid succession. The undead never ran, they only shuffled, or walked. Once she’d seen one leap at a man to kill him, but that was rare. The sound of running on the pavement stood out to her as alien, and an optimistic sign of life.
    Michelle ran to the side of the bridge and looked back into the city they were leaving. Beyond a row of trees lay a large gathering of low warehouses. The buildings were sturdy, and had been a center of business and industry before the end. The sound of running came from there, and she watched intently, leaning on the railing of the bridge. She realized the boy had stopped to wait for her, but she was fixated on whoever was making the noise.
    Far down in the warehouse area she caught a glimpse of a man sprinting from one building to another. He was as thin as she was and as dark skinned as she was light. Even from this far away she could see he was wide eyed with fear. He dove to the ground behind the corpse of a car, badly scraping his knees and elbows. She could feel the sting and see the bright red of his blood seep out.
    Following the man slowly across the expanse between the two buildings was a large gathering of the dead. Both white and black skinned they pushed forward like the tide rising, inexorable, and unstoppable. The man gathered himself and took off running with a limp, reaching the opposing warehouse door and desperately banging on it. She could hear him screaming, and didn’t need to know what he was saying. Some language is universal.
    He tugged at the door handle, pathetically crying out in fear and pain. The door held strong and didn’t budge, and after looking over his shoulder at the crowd of the dead bearing down on him, he let go of the handle, and ran around the building and out of her sight. The undead followed him, and soon they too were gone, pursuing their prey.
    Michelle was overwhelmed by the moment. All she could think of was the desperate man, trying to escape his grim fate, and running further into the city filled with dead. It was a miracle he’d survived this long, and she knew he would be dead by sundown unless another miracle happened for him. With grimy hands she wiped away the tears streaming down her face. She felt something bump up against her, and she jerked away.
    The dead child had slid up next to her against the rail, and was looking up at her with his wide, dead white eyes. His one remaining hand sat on the rail.  
    “Why is this happening? You know. I know you know.” Michelle pointed an accusatorial finger down at the dead child. “If God is telling you what to do, then ask him why is he doing this!” Michelle snapped at the walking corpse that served as her guide. Predictably, the dead boy said nothing in return.
    “Of course. Silence. To hell with you. Fuck you.” Michelle was filled with fury and indignation. She felt spurned, ignored, and hurt. Her faith had been tested to the breaking point.
    The small boy looked at her, and as she’d seen only once before, he inhaled deeply, forcing his long unused lungs to fill with air that did nothing for his body. It seemed to Michelle more like the mechanical action of a bellows than the natural breathing of a child. She wondered who or what was operating the machine.
    His tiny lungs filled with enough dirty