Hissers II: Death March Read Online Free PDF

grip let go. But then it was there again, latching on to her.
    They were shoved to the side and just about dragged toward the nearest transport truck. Its back gate was down, people sitting along the benches inside. The same scene she’d lived just days ago when they’d left Victorville.
    “Let’s go! Up inside!” Wilcox grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up. She grabbed a seat on the left bench as her parents climbed aboard, wedged herself in between a large grey-haired woman and a small girl she hadn’t seen before. The little girl was sobbing uncontrollably. “It’s okay,” Amanita told her, even though she knew it wasn’t, thinking of the lady she’d seen earlier in the morning saying the exact same thing to another child. It was all lies.
    Once they were all situated inside, Wilcox slapped the side of the truck and yelled, “Get ’em outta here!”
    The truck lurched and Amanita felt her pulse rise. She watched out the back as hissers began climbing over the fence into the camp. Bullets ripped them to shreds and knocked them back, but they were up again in a flash, their bodies melting into one another to form all sorts of undead chimaeras. As the truck raced through one of the open gates out toward the road, she saw one of the giant spider monsters come barreling through the perimeter and take out a small command trailer that the military had set up with a satellite dish on top.
    The hissers were inside the camp now, tearing it apart, rushing at anyone human. She saw a small elderly man go down under a storm of gnashing teeth and scraping fingernails. Watched as a frightened Marine tried to save him, firing at the heads of the undead, only to be taken down himself.
    It was the young enlisted man she’d given attitude to earlier. He said we weren’t prisoners, she remembered. Now he was a prisoner to some form of bloodlust no one had a handle on.
    The truck took a fast turn onto a paved road, speeding past fields of corn. She watched as helicopters razed the ground with thousands of rounds of ammunition. Grenades were exploding every fifty feet. The hissers were racing through the corn fields like fish through water, leaving wakes of bent stalks. Then the truck turned again and she nearly flew out of the seat. She swallowed hard, looked at her parents sitting across from her. Her mother was crying, her father was hugging her and trying to maintain a sense of bravery. But it wasn’t working. He was scared and Amanita could see it.
    The little girl next to her suddenly gripped her around the waist for stability. Amanita held onto her, cooing to her. She tasted her own tears in her mouth now, realized she was shaking and crying.
    There was a massive explosion and the truck leapt up, slammed back down with enough force to throw everyone from their seats. She landed under a pile of arms and legs. A boot caught h er in the side of the head and stunned her.
    “Am! Am!” It was her father’s voice, but she couldn’t see him. Too many people were on top of her.
    They all struggled to get back up to the benches but the truck spun sideways, pinning her to the wheel well. An elbow caught her in the throat and threatened to make her vomit. She saw stars behind her eyes. Wiggling as hard as she could, she got her head free and looked up at the pig pile on top of her. Saw the little girl by the back gate. Watched as a handful of hissers reached in, snatched her, and yanked her out.
    “No!” she cried, but she could not move to do anything about it. Now she saw her father upside down behind her. She reached out a hand to him but there was another explosion that jumped the truck forward like it had gone off a stunt ramp. As it flew she watched out the back as one of the helicopters fired another missile at them.
    They’re shooting at us, she realized. Why?
    And then it became evident as a new pair of hissers appeared at the back gate and yanked another woman out. Blood erupted from her body and splattered on