Into the Badlands Read Online Free PDF Page A

touching Sandy's shoulder. “Nobody shoots unless I say so. I don't want to take a bullet meant for whatever's up there. Besides, one bang from that gun and they'll be on us like stink on shit.”
    “Do you think there are more than one up there?” Sandy asked.
    “I hope not,” he replied.
    Sandy reached up, placing her hand atop her husband's hand. “I'm afraid.”
    “I am too babe, but we have to face this head on; otherwise, we're all dead.”
    “Be careful baby,” she replied. Dave could tell she was ready to break down; she just wasn't equipped for this. He hoped she could hold it together and not get herself or the rest of them killed.
    “I'll wait for your signal,” Jim whispered. Dave knew Jim wasn't trigger-happy, but Sandy was unpredictable.
    They listened intently while the thing upstairs limped around above them. There was a crash as something was tossed carelessly onto the floor, followed by another crash, then another. It was ransacking the place, no doubt looking for food. Carriers almost never figured out how to open metal cans, but glass they'd just break. More often than not they'd eat the glass along with the food. A fitting last meal.
    Then the sounds stopped. As they waited Dave counted the seconds off in his head. Fifteen, thirty, forty-five, one minute. He thought for a moment the thing might have just wandered back outside. Or it could be waiting for them, he considered. Doubtful but not impossible; some carriers were smarter than others.
    Sandy's grip tightened around Dave's arm. “Is it gone?” she asked.
    “Maybe. I think we need to-”
    A footstep sounded on the top step. Then another. The hair on the back of their necks stood on end. Dave felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. The group stood twenty feet from the wooden stairs leading down from above. Dwindling sunlight shone down from above, illuminating the steps in a pallid glow. A shadow fell on the steps, cast from doorway above.
    Another step; this time they could see the thing's foot. It was clad in a dirty, mud-caked shoe, a shoe that hadn't been removed in three years. Tattered jeans barely covered the leg. Another step, this one a dead thud, as the carrier's paralyzed leg followed obediently along.
    “Remember the plan,” Dave said quietly to the other two. He broke from Sandy's grip, and walked toward the bottom of the steps.
    “Dave!” Sandy whispered, but he was gone. She saw his shadow flash in front of the stairs and then he disappeared into the darkness of the basement.
    Another step, followed by the dull thud of the trailing limb. Dave wondered how the thing could even walk. He could only hope that this handicap would allow him the upper hand. Fighting the infected was incredibly dangerous; not only were they insane, but their insanity was catching. He'd have to get in and strike hard, then get his wife and friend out. He couldn't afford to fuck this up. If he did, they were all as good as dead. Using the gun would draw other carriers. Having that gun, and not being able to use it, was like being stranded in the ocean on a life raft; surrounded by water, but none of it fit to drink. Irony could be very cruel.
    Another step, followed by the dead-leg thud. Dave removed the hatchet from his belt, wiped the sweat off his hand, then gripped the handle tightly. He was surprised his hands were sweating despite the cold. His muscles tensed, his senses leveled. Fight or flight had chosen fight, and his body was readying for it. He swallowed hard, tasting the dank, cold air of the basement. His eyes focused on the stairs, and he waited.
    Another step, followed by the thud. Then another step.
    Now.
    Dave lunged from the shadows, hatchet in hand.

CHAPTER 4

    Trish was awakened violently as she was forcefully grabbed in the darkness. She opened her eyes wide, searching the darkened building for her attacker. She could see nothing. Her heart raced, kick-started by a boost of adrenaline. She screamed, and a hand was placed