Scavengers: July Read Online Free PDF Page A

From his grimace, James could read that he too noticed the unpleasant aroma in the air. James immediately detected mold and watery stains on some of the old family portraits hanging in the hall. It was painful to see. Although the windows were now covered by ivy, even in the dim light, they could see that the elegant, white stairs and decorative statues of cherubs and shepherds had become slightly greenish.
    James walked up to the portrait of his father slowly, as if in a dream and moved the tips of his fingers along the frame of the painting. “London was so chaotic back then, wasn’t it?” he asked in a quiet voice, not paying much attention to anything but the portrait.
    “It was,” Ira breathed, shaking his head and taking out a large dagger. “But they managed to keep the dead out. You weren’t recruited to build the walls, no?” he asked with a skeptical look in his eyes.
    James turned to him, holding the ice pick quite nonchalantly. “Oh but I was. Two weeks I worked there! They needed all the hands they could get. Do you ever wonder how could they be dead? Living corpses? That maybe it’s a disease that can be cured?” He walked over to the next portrait. His mother, who died at the tender age of 20 giving birth to him.
    “This professor at the university, whatever he’s called, he says if it walks with no heart, it is dead,” said Ira, putting a hand into his pocket and looking around. “And the walls were not built in two weeks,” he commented after a pause, “Was in service for over a year.”
    “Yes,” James said, with hesitation, “but there were many other pressing matters that needed my attention.” He gave Ira a short glance and started walking up the stairs. They were made out of strong marble, so there was no fear of rot as there could be with a wooden staircase.
    “I’m sure,” the other man answered, following him calmly. It seemed that there were some holes in the roof, because the floor on top of the stairs was slowly disintegrating and there were yellowish spots on the ceiling.
    “Did you go back to the army after building the walls?” James asked, starting to walk a bit faster down the corridor on the first floor. They talked about the blueprints of the house many times, so they both knew that James’ office was on the next level. “We’re in luck. It looks as though this place is deserted.” He smiled at Ira.
    The other man nodded to him pleasantly. “Nah, why would I do that? I’m no great patriot,” he confessed.
    “Maybe for the pay. But I suppose for a man like you, these kinds of jobs are lots more lucrative.” James walked down another big hall, trying not to look down on the floor, at some of the bones scattered around. “We will be done in no time!” he said with optimism, but the moment he had finished his sentence he screamed in horror. James was only inches away from an old, decaying zombie, which lurched for him from the floor and grabbed him by the ankle. The disgusting creature had no legs and was crawling along the carpet. “Fuck! You fucking fuck!” screamed James in panic and started striking at the zombie’s head with the ice pick. It breathed in agony and then went still, covered in its dark blood, which also stained James’ clothes and hand. The whole fight didn’t last five seconds.
    “Good,” he heard from behind, where Ira was standing, “but be quiet. There might be more of them.” he said, as if what happened a second ago was no big deal. He helped James to straighten up. “Just don't break your skin with it now.”
    James was still breathing heavily and kept looking back at the corpse, as if he was expecting to see it move again. “Yes... It’s good I had gloves on,” he whimpered.
    “Was that your first?” Ira asked, starting to climb to the second floor.
    James nodded slowly, walking right behind him. “I sort of never had the chance...”
    “You’ll get used to it,” the other man said, patting his arm in an