MZS: Philadelphia (Metropolitan Zombie Survivors Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

floor in front of my door, which just clicked closed.
    There are four people following behind him. Based on the distance, they must have been trailing him when we collided.
    “Where is it?” the guy on the floor screams.
    For a brief second, he struggles to get to his feet, then changes his mind and instead begins searching for “it.”
    The handle of a standard piece of hotel flatware sticks out from underneath my door.
    “There!” I call to the young man, assuming the knife is what he’s looking for.
    “Where?! Jesus Christ, just get up! We have to get away,” he screams at me and finally gets to a squat while whipping his head, around searching.
    When his eyes land on the silver handle of the knife, he dives toward it and claws clumsily for a grip.
    I’ve gone from sprawled out on the floor to sitting on my ass. My arms are out behind me, holding up my chest. The young man’s four stalkers are getting very close now.
    They are covered in blood. At first I think they look like the people I saw on the second floor. Then I notice their eyes, or where their eyes are supposed to be. It’s the same cloudy potato color I saw in the lobby.
    This is not a cult of cannibals; these people are sick. Something is changing their eyes and affecting their body. They may not be able to control their bloodlust.
    Having extracted the knife from beneath the door, the young man scrambles to his feet. He turns to run, apparently prepared to leave me to deal with these deadly sick people.
    A hand flashes out from the lead pursuer. It grabs the forearm of my fleeing friend and spins him around.
    A glint of polished steel flashes and I watch the knife plunge deep into the eye socket of the sick man. My able-bodied new friend stands clumsily, trying to maintain his balance. Even while the sickened corpse crumbles to the ground, he avoids the mouth and teeth.
    The quick sound of suction briefly fills my ears. A maroon stripe against a blue pant leg flashes in front of my eye and jolts me to awareness. He’s leaving me.
    Is he one of the killers from outside?
    There is no gun and if he wanted me dead he could have plunged a knife into my eye just like he did to the other fellow. Even if he is a killer, getting away from these things is a higher priority. Which means I should probably follow his lead.
    Sicko number two is just stumbling over his fallen comrade when I start getting to my feet. His hand brushes against my shoe but it doesn’t look like a normal hand. The fingers are hard, like the nails have taken over the entire digit and become claws. They may able to tear through the leather of my shoe.
    I pull back my foot quickly and hop up with a surge of adrenaline. I will not be left behind.
    As I chase the hotel employee running in front of me, I can’t help but wonder who authorized the use of deadly force inside the hotel. When this situation is resolved, there are going to be a number of people who have to answer for their actions.
    He slams through the door to the stairwell and disappears out of sight.
    Concerned about the noise I try to open the door quickly but without banging it. The combination of nerves and adrenaline are too much for me to control. Just before the door hits the wall, something soft stops it.
    “Owwww!”
    My friend was waiting for me.
    “Please don’t kill me,” I beg
    “Did he get you?” he asks, while pushing the door closed until I hear a click.
    “What? No?”
    “You don’t sound so sure.”
    “I’m here with you. Of course he didn’t get me.”
    “Were you scratched or bitten? Did any of his blood or fucking goo get in your mouth or eyes?”
    “Oh my god that’s disgusting. No, none of those things happened. Why do you care so m much about a stark raving lunatic?”
    “Do you live under a fucking rock? They’re zombies. They bite you or scratch you and it’s all over. Any of their juices get in contact with your juices and you’re done.”
    “They are sick,” I mutter.
    “Sick?