Love in the Time of the Dead Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Tera Shanley
tightly to her abdomen. It didn’t help the pain, but she didn’t want anyone to see how badly she had damaged it—herself included.
Guist retrieved the ax and the team ran in a low and careful lope, easily making the small leap from roof to attached roof in an attempt to avoid the attention of the impressive numbers of Deads trying to get into the house they had escaped. When they reached the end of the row, they hunched down quietly so Jarren could check the map. He pointed to their left toward a thick pine forest, and they silently climbed down a fire escape on the last house. Darkness was falling fast, but they could still see small groups of Deads coming in, attracted to the noise. The team jogged carefully to a playground behind the houses, and when the coast was clear enough, they ran for the safety of the woods.
Six miles of dark and piney forest stood between the small band of fighters and the borders of the colony. Even if it would be the longest distance they had ever traveled by dark, it would be too risky to bed down in a tree with their scent so fresh and so close to such a large number of frenzied man eaters. Getting treed with no ammo would mean a slow death. They would have to try to make it to the colony that night.
A couple of fast paced miles later, Laney’s body threatened to give out. They had been going all day on truly meager rations, and the last adrenaline crash left her shaking and weak. That and she couldn’t see a damned thing. The eyelash moon was less than helpful and she had to stop to dig her night glasses out of her pack. Her terrible night vision was also an excellent excuse to catch her breath. She hated lagging behind.
“What’s the hold up?” Mitchell demanded, panting. “Let’s go.”
“I can’t see where I’m going and I need to get my mag of tracer ammo, too.”
“I’ve seen you load on the run a hundred times.”
Yep. He was still mad.
Jarren doubled back for them. “Let her be, Mitchell. We’re all winded.”
Mitchell growled in frustration. “We’re four miles from the colony and losing precious Dead-free moments.”
She pulled her glasses on and tossed her pack over her shoulder. “Okay, I’m ready.” Her stomach rumbled loudly, despite the terrible timing.
“No time for that, Landry,” Mitchell snapped and jogged off.
“Didn’t say there was,” she grumbled.
Jarren ran beside her, relying on his impeccable night vision instead of his night glasses. “You smell any?” he asked.
Breathlessly, she replied, “The smell hasn’t gone away. They’re around us—we’ve just been lucky to miss them so far. I bet they’ll be gathered around the colony for sure, though. We won’t be able to avoid them there.”
Two Deads came crashing through the trees in front of them, and Guist and Mitchell offed them with blades. They had to save the remainder of the ammo to give them a chance at getting through the gates of the colony.
The hours that followed were long, treacherous, and exhausting. The stream of Deads that came for them was endless. What should have been four miles turned into many more as they got turned around in skirmishes time and time again, like a cruel pinball game in the forest. It wasn’t as if they had time to check a compass, either. They finally had a chance to check their position near dawn when they were out of ammo and hopelessly and utterly treed. Their blades would never be enough against the number of Deads that gathered around the bases of the three trees they had managed to scurry up.
Now what? No one knew where they were, and in a cruel twist of fate, the map said they were no more than a quarter mile from the colony border. Such a short distance from safety, but the team would starve months before the Deads would give up on them and leave in search of another meal.
A Dead came much too close to grabbing her ankle, and Jarren nodded for her to go up to the next branch. It groaned its discontent under her weight.
Guist retrieved the ax and the team ran in a low and careful lope, easily making the small leap from roof to attached roof in an attempt to avoid the attention of the impressive numbers of Deads trying to get into the house they had escaped. When they reached the end of the row, they hunched down quietly so Jarren could check the map. He pointed to their left toward a thick pine forest, and they silently climbed down a fire escape on the last house. Darkness was falling fast, but they could still see small groups of Deads coming in, attracted to the noise. The team jogged carefully to a playground behind the houses, and when the coast was clear enough, they ran for the safety of the woods.
Six miles of dark and piney forest stood between the small band of fighters and the borders of the colony. Even if it would be the longest distance they had ever traveled by dark, it would be too risky to bed down in a tree with their scent so fresh and so close to such a large number of frenzied man eaters. Getting treed with no ammo would mean a slow death. They would have to try to make it to the colony that night.
A couple of fast paced miles later, Laney’s body threatened to give out. They had been going all day on truly meager rations, and the last adrenaline crash left her shaking and weak. That and she couldn’t see a damned thing. The eyelash moon was less than helpful and she had to stop to dig her night glasses out of her pack. Her terrible night vision was also an excellent excuse to catch her breath. She hated lagging behind.
“What’s the hold up?” Mitchell demanded, panting. “Let’s go.”
“I can’t see where I’m going and I need to get my mag of tracer ammo, too.”
“I’ve seen you load on the run a hundred times.”
Yep. He was still mad.
Jarren doubled back for them. “Let her be, Mitchell. We’re all winded.”
Mitchell growled in frustration. “We’re four miles from the colony and losing precious Dead-free moments.”
She pulled her glasses on and tossed her pack over her shoulder. “Okay, I’m ready.” Her stomach rumbled loudly, despite the terrible timing.
“No time for that, Landry,” Mitchell snapped and jogged off.
“Didn’t say there was,” she grumbled.
Jarren ran beside her, relying on his impeccable night vision instead of his night glasses. “You smell any?” he asked.
Breathlessly, she replied, “The smell hasn’t gone away. They’re around us—we’ve just been lucky to miss them so far. I bet they’ll be gathered around the colony for sure, though. We won’t be able to avoid them there.”
Two Deads came crashing through the trees in front of them, and Guist and Mitchell offed them with blades. They had to save the remainder of the ammo to give them a chance at getting through the gates of the colony.
The hours that followed were long, treacherous, and exhausting. The stream of Deads that came for them was endless. What should have been four miles turned into many more as they got turned around in skirmishes time and time again, like a cruel pinball game in the forest. It wasn’t as if they had time to check a compass, either. They finally had a chance to check their position near dawn when they were out of ammo and hopelessly and utterly treed. Their blades would never be enough against the number of Deads that gathered around the bases of the three trees they had managed to scurry up.
Now what? No one knew where they were, and in a cruel twist of fate, the map said they were no more than a quarter mile from the colony border. Such a short distance from safety, but the team would starve months before the Deads would give up on them and leave in search of another meal.
A Dead came much too close to grabbing her ankle, and Jarren nodded for her to go up to the next branch. It groaned its discontent under her weight.