Angered Seasons: The Worst Birthday Ever (Volume One) Read Online Free PDF

of our company t-shirts. Something ticked against
the window and the sound repeated itself.
    “Is that…”
    Lane nodded and brushed the blinds aside to
make sure. “Rain.”
    I flicked channels until I stopped on the
Weather Network.
    “What’s it say?”
    “Plus ten.”
    “Mother Nature knows it’s the middle of
January, right?”
    I forgot about the weather as a car alarm
went off. “You can laugh at me if you want, but I’m going to get
the guns.”
    Lane was the picture perfect of serious as he
followed me into the basement where we kept the hunting rifles
locked up. Once all of the ammo we had was in a backpack, we headed
back upstairs. I looked at my boots and shoes scattered at the
entrance.
    “What are you thinking?”
    “Steel toes.” I grabbed my work boots and put
them on then stood and slung my .270 Winchester across my back.
Lane started to laugh.
    “You look like one of the chicks in those
zombie movies.”
    “Oh, shut up. I highly doubt those are
zombies out there, but I don’t give a rat’s ass if they’re sick or
high on the newest drug; if they try to step foot in this house,
they’re going to regret it.”
    Lane gave a head tilt to show he agreed
before lacing up his work boots and loading his rifle. The rain and
wind had picked up and was joined by some of the brightest
lightning I’d ever seen. The resulting impact shook the house and
set off more car alarms, though these you could barely hear under
the roll of the thunder. Lane’s cell phone vibrated and he answered
by hitting the speaker mode.
    “Hello?”
    “Lane?” Michelle’s voice was just a
whisper.
    “Michelle? What’s wrong?”
    “I… someone just broke into the house.”
    “Where are you?” Lane’s face dropped.
    “I’m in the bathroom closet.
    “Did you call the police?”
    A crack of thunder drowned out her
answer.
    “Oh, my god, they’re getting closer.” Her
voice went up an octave and for as much as I disliked the girl, I
was starting to worry.
    Lane picked up the phone as if that would
help her situation. “Michelle, you have to run. Do you understand
me? Did you watch any more of the news? They’re sick. Whoever is in
your house will hurt you. Are you listening to me?”
    “I can’t.”
    “Jesus, Michelle! I’ll be right there, but
you have to run!”
    “Michelle, listen to him! Whatever these
people have been infected with, they’re strong. I almost got killed
by a lady on my way home from the bar. Run, Michelle!”
    The line stayed silent except for the puffing
of her breath.
    “Ok.”
    “Ok. Now, can you hear them?” Lane was hiking
the ammo filled back pack across his shoulder.
    “No.”
    I looked at Lane who was peeking through the
front door. I took the phone from him so he could go load the
weapons into the truck.
    “Michelle, I’m going to count to three,
alright? On three, you run. Run as fast as you can, get out of the
house, and stay on twenty-eighth street. Do not stop running until
we get to you. We’ll be in the one ton.”
    “You’re coming?”
    “Now’s not the time! Damn it, Michelle! These
guys won’t just steal your jewelry and rape you then leave you be,
do you understand? They will KILL you!”
    I ran out to the truck and locked the door as
I closed it. “Ok, Michelle. One… two… three!”
    I heard her hit the wall and the front door
of her house slam shut. Lane peeled out of the driveway backwards,
screeched to a halt then squealed forward three blocks before
skidding around the corner and heading down twenty-eighth street.
The accelerator needle moved past the fifty kilometers per hour
speed limit and kept rising.
    “There!” I pointed up ahead to the woman
running toward us. My heart dropped at the sight of three of the
yellow eyed freaks a half a block behind her. “Stop! Stop!” I
jerked forward as Lane slammed on the brakes and the truck skidded
to a stop on the wet pavement. I pushed open the door and clambered
into the box. Lane followed suit,