Die Trying: A Zombie Apocalypse Read Online Free PDF

right on the edge of terror. I could feel my shirt sticking to my back.
    I turned to Harrigan and Jed and pointed wordlessly at the clouds. The orange glow was like a pulse of distant flickering light.
    “Something’s burning,” Jed grunted . “Maybe a building. Maybe a whole street,” he shrugged. “But it’s not nearby. Maybe a mile or two.”
    I nodded. It made sense. The glow from burning buildings reflected off the low clouds. But I was at least grateful for the light. It was the first lucky break we’d had.
    Then it started to rain.
    I felt the first fat drops of it splash against my face, and then an instant later the heavens opened up and the rain became a solid downpour – a veil of grey slanting mist that hissed in the trees and soaked us completely.
    Ahead of us was another thin strip of long grass and then a suburban street that ran from left to right into the darkness. On the other side of the road was a cluster of one-story neat homes with the dark shapes of abandoned cars on the street and in driveways.
    The rain detonated off the blacktop and drummed against the roofs. It crushed down on us like a physical weight and the sky seemed to fill with the boom of thunder that rumbled and rolled across the sky.
    I looked up, through the thin canopy of leaves – and then I heard a new, more urgent sound.
    The helicopter.
    The noise of it was a shrieking assault on the ears.
    The helicopter was practically overhead, hanging in the sky. It was swaying from side to side , and the percussive sound as it roared past seemed to undulate as the chopper veered and dipped like flotsam on a storm-tossed angry ocean.
    I saw Harrigan’s face. I saw his mouth open. I saw him shouting something at me, but I couldn’t hear above the roar of the rotors. Then the shape tilted onto its side, and a brilliant bright shaft of light lanced down from the underbelly of the craft, swaying wickedly like a flashlight in the hands of a drunken man.
    I felt Jed grip my arm savagely as the helicopter yawed and spun again, seemingly out of control.
    Jed crammed his face next to mine. He pointed.
    “The house across the street!” he shouted. “He’s going to crash right into it!”
    We stood, transfixed in horror. The helicopter lifted on a gust of wind, and then plunged back down, dropping dangerously low to sagging power lines. Then it seemed to pivot on its axis and fly directly toward the rooftops of the houses. It dropped like a stone, falling at a sharp angle, its bubbled Perspex nose almost in a vertical dive. I felt myself tense. I felt my body bracing itself for the impact – the shattering, explosive collision as the helicopter disappeared into the building and they both went up in a horrific fireball of death and destruction. The searchlight swayed back and forth, lighting up the house like broad daylight. I saw a porch, entwined with twisted green vines. I saw blank, empty windows, like vacant eyes. I saw a Japanese hatchback hunched low on the driveway – and then I saw the dark twisted shape of a man appear in the open doorway, his head turned up to the night sky, his movements jerky and unnatural – everything cast in brilliant white-light.
    The man stumbled out onto the porch. The searchlight swung away haphazardly, and then veered back a moment later. I saw the man moving, alert. The man seemed to snarl up at the sky, his expression crazed and vicious. An instant later we were plunged back into darkness as the spotlight moved away. I felt a sudden sense of fear and alarm. The man was undead – of that I was sure – and he wouldn’t be the only ghoul drawn to the rising sound of the helicopter. I tightened my grip on the Glock and took a deep breath. I told myself I had expected this. Finding the helicopter and rescuing the pilot was always going to be a deadly dangerous risk.
    But now I wasn’t so sure I was prepared for the reality of fighting off the undead, armed with just a couple of pistols and a