Last Another Day Read Online Free PDF

people. We need to be prepared,” Max said.
    He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out an R4 rifle, standard issue for the army, a tactical load-bearing vest, or 'battle jacket'.
    Strapping it on over his short-sleeved camouflage shirt, Max loaded magazines for the R4 and grenades. If Logan remembered correctly, there was space for eight magazines on each side and nine grenades in the front. At thirty-five rounds per magazine, Max packed quite a punch.
    He turned to Logan. “I've got extra guns and ammo.”
    “That's all right. I've got my own.”
    Logan scratched around in a toolbox until he found a small ax with a sturdy handle. He thrust it through his belt. From behind the seat, he grabbed an old hunting rifle.
    “I would prefer to use old trusty here. She and I go back many happy years.” He smiled, running a loving hand over the oiled stock.
    “Suit yourself.” Max presented a gun in a holster. “But at least carry a sidearm for back-up.”
    “Thanks,” Logan slid the holster onto his belt.
    They climbed back into the Land Rover and took off, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. The town appeared ahead so they turned onto Stateway, the main road. It was quiet for the first few kilometers until they drew closer to the center of town. That's when the trouble began.
    Car wrecks, belongings, and bodies littered the road. Infected people were breaking into cars and dragging screaming occupants out to die on the bloody tar roads. Things looked bad, and they were attracting attention.
    “We need to get through,” Max said.
    “Piece of cake.”
    Logan clenched his teeth, drove up onto the pavement and plowed his way through the oncoming infected until he reached a stretch of clear road. He was about to gun it when a shrill scream grabbed his attention. Behind them, a teenage boy came tearing up the road, followed by a bunch of infected.
    “Do we stop?” Logan asked.
    “Of course.”
    “All right.”
    They grabbed their gear and got out. Logan braced himself against the door, raised his rifle and sighted on the infected closest to the boy. He shot it in the chest, the slug tearing a nice hole through the infected's back.
    It fell to the ground, thrashed then crawled back onto its feet, snarling as bloody spit drooled from its lips.
    What the fuck?
    He sighted on another—a young woman, growling as she pumped her arms and legs.
    “Aim for the head!” Max shouted.
    “What?”
    “The head. It's the only way to kill them.” A spray of bullets from the R4 proved Max's point as several infected fell, heads exploding like overripe melons.
    Logan followed his instructions, and the boy reached them unscathed and out of breath, babbling gratitude in a hysterical voice.
    Logan cut him short. “No time. Get in and keep your head down.”
    With a screech of tires, they pulled away and Logan set his sights on his parents' house. The battle for the town was lost. Overrun police barricades and crashed anti-riot vehicles littered key points throughout the inner city. The dead roamed the streets, with few living to be seen. Those they spotted, were either barricaded inside their homes and shops or fleeing the city.
    Logan was ruthless, leaving a wake of destruction behind him. A blank-eyed girl without a jaw passed by his window as he plowed over a rose garden, leaving muddy tracks on the lawn. He clipped a sedan reversing out of its driveway, ignoring the string of expletives the driver flung at him.
    A police car raced past with siren blaring only to collide with another oncoming vehicle. With a hard right, Logan swerved around the crash, observing the bruised and bloody officer staggering from his car only to be pulled down by two infected. Shots rang out as he fired his sidearm blindly in all directions.
    A truck blocked the road ahead and once more, Logan plowed over gardens, driveways and infected, crunching over the odd garden gnome and bird bath. Never had the Land Rover worked so hard to earn its reputation