Better Lucky than Good (Records of the Resistance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

breathed out, as quietly as he could.

    The figures stumbled and fell as they attempted to traverse through the woods, some of whom becoming entangled in thick vegetation and thrashed about violently until they had freed themselves. The night was quiet, save for the crashing of infected attempting to cross the woodlot. They were surrounded and Clay prayed that this was just an offshoot of the main group and not the entire horde itself. Soon, they began crossing the game trail presently occupied by Melanie and Clay. Up until this point they had been lucky, having none come close enough to detect their presence. However, in the distance Clay observed that one of the infected was ambling straight towards them. He knew that dispatching this one would more than likely lead to attracting the others. His shotgun was certainly out of the question and could essentially be equated to ringing the dinner bell for the rest of the horde. Clay was weighing all of his options, but his time was quickly running short. A few feet was all they needed. They had to go for it. Should his plan fail, he would empty the magazine of his shotgun and they would take their chances making a run for the river.

    Clay began slowly inching his way forward, away from the path of the oncoming infected. Without being able to communicate, Melanie was entirely in the dark about Clay's intentions. Her arm was now completely outstretched as a result of Clay moving away from her, leaving Melanie to either follow him or let go. She chose the latter and released her grip from his pack. Clay slowly rotated on the spot, turning to face Melanie while their threat reached a mere twenty yards from her position. He slowly lifted his arm and reached out his hand toward Melanie. She hesitated, but only for a brief moment before taking it in her own. Clay assisted her in maintaining her balance as she slowly crawled towards him. Kneeling before her, once Melanie had managed to close the distance between them, Clay pulled her into him. The pair were now face to face and Melanie was straddling Clay's knees. He lifted his shotgun and rested its receiver on Melanie's shoulder. From this position, he knew he could only fire a single shot before he would have to push Melanie off to cycle the weapon's action. Being entangled with Melanie as he was, Clay could feel her breath on his cheek as the figure stepped into the openness of the game trail. Clay carefully maintained the gun bead's position on the man's head. The infected were not a quiet lot, tearing their way through the bush. It was not the noise of this one that had made Melanie tighten her grip on Clay's wool shirt, but its stench. Their nostrils had become saturated with the putrid smell of charred flesh. It was apparent that this had been one of the infected that had entered the house at some point in the battle. As it crossed the path, the infected stepped into a cone of moonlight, beaming through the darkened forest canopy. Clay became witness to the visual counterpart of the overwhelming odour, as he observed that the man's entire left side had been scorched by the flames; his skin cracked and charred. Even his hair had been removed from his head, further revealing his boiled epidermis. Thankfully, the vision was fleeting as the man continued across the path and into the bush on the other side.  

    The pair had gone unnoticed. Clay put his hand on the small of Melanie's back, indicating that his intent was to remain as they were for a time. There was still an uncomfortable amount of movement surrounding them, as innumerable undead filtered through the thick forest. As far as Clay was concerned, they were sitting tight until it quieted down. To Melanie, there couldn't be a worse position that she could be in; straddling a man she just met and being surrounded by an imposing number of murderous individuals. However, as they were, they had a very tiny foot print which would allow any passing infected a wide berth. She soon