Redemption of the Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

Musty, but he couldn’t detect anything that might be
rotten.
    “Ready?” he
said.
    “Always.”
    They went down the four steps leading
to the cement basement floor.
    Both stepped
quietly, and Joe didn’t need to ask to know she had her ears perked
as much as he had his. No grunts, no groans, no deathly
wheezing.
    So far so good, he
thought. To the side were the furnace, the side-by-side washing
machine and dryer, and the metal pantry shelf. It was hard to see
everything that was on it, but what looked like torn-up toilet
paper and paper towels littered the shelves, probably from
mice.
    The basement
was filled with stacks of records, books, cassette tapes, reams of
fabric and an entire row of sewing machines that were side-by-side
on two eight-foot-long gray, plastic-topped craft
tables.
    “Busy people,” Tracy said.
    “Indeed. Scan the room again, just in
case, then we can finally get some rest.”
    “Sounds good to me.”
    Joe was
relieved and even a little surprised that, thus far, nothing had
happened to them and all had been more or less smooth sailing. Ever
since leaving the Haven, it’d been one life-threatening situation
after another, most of which were barely escaped from. Was Someone
looking out for them? Pure luck? Was there even such a thing as
luck?
    “Some of these records are really
old,” Tracy said.
    “Same with some of these
books.”
    “Didn’t you say you used to be a
writer?”
    “Comic
books, yeah, but I still read novels, too. Can’t write good comics
without reading good novels. Just the way it is.”
    “Must’ve been fun.”
    “Used to
be,” he said, thinking back to that simpler time, the one before
zombies, before death, before even meeting April, the one girl he’d
ever fallen in love with, so quickly, so easily. Her beautiful
face—black hair, gray eyes, cute demeanor and such utterly soft
lips—and the way she looked when he found her the day of the gray
rain, when the world transformed and the dead began to rise. Her
blood-covered mouth, an old woman’s trachea hanging between her
teeth like a stringy turkey neck. Every time he thought of it, his
heart broke anew, and the crushing defeat of his spirit when he
recalled what it was like to accidentally break her skull with a
rolling pin swung full force.
    “Joe?” Tracey said.
    “Yeah.”
    “You’re crying.”
    He blinked
his eyes. She was right. A couple tears leaked down his
cheeks.
    “Sorry,” he
said, embarrassed.
    She simply
looked at him, eyes glazed over in compassion. Tracy understood his
pain. She’d gone through something similar with a boy named Josh.
He had been the one for her and all had been set for a happy ending
until the day of the Rain and the world transformed,
died.
    The two had
finished most of the basement, the last place to check in, and
around the washer and dryer. Joe knew nothing would be there,
unless some undead creature was lying about with no legs and no
mouth, the hunger for human flesh the only thing to keep it
company. Still, had to be done. Safety first.
    Joe stood by
the washer, Tracy the dryer. Together, they opened the lids, ready
for something to pop out. Nothing.
    “I guess we’re in the clear,” Tracy
said, sounding relieved. Joe knew she needed a break just as bad as
he did.
    He nodded.
“Let’s head upstairs and catch some shut-eye. We’ll get a fresh
start tomorrow.” They left the washer and dryer lids up.
    “Food?”
    Joe checked
the pantry. Aside from the torn bits of toilet paper and paper
towel, there wasn’t much save for a can of chickpeas, a box of
crackers with tiny holes around its bottom—probably from rodents
chewing on the cardboard—and a fresh pack of No Name saran
wrap.
    He grabbed
the can and handed it to her. “Maybe there’s a can opener in the
kitchen.”
    “There’s a freezer over there under
all those books.”
    “’Kay.” He
went to the freezer and began to take down some of the books and
place them on the floor.
    Behind them, a