The Dead Hunger Series: Books 1 through 5 Read Online Free PDF Page B

it and soon was in the middle of the yard, between the pool and the patio.  Jamie’s eyes stayed on me, and she jerked steadily toward me.
    “Hungry hungry hungry . . .”
    But it sounded like “ungy ungy ungy.”
    Suddenly I was overwhelmed.  My sister was fucked up, majorly fucked up, and I started to cry.  I backed up as she staggered toward me, and it broke my heart to know she would kill me against her will, that she loved me and she would fucking kill me and never even have any conscious awareness she’d done it.  I prodded her with the bubble wrap, and she staggered backward.  When she was off balance, I pushed her with it again. 
    I spun around to her side and pushed her toward the side yard fence with the roll, and this time she did fall over.  As she moaned out loud, and her newfound lack of coordination made it a struggle to roll onto her stomach so she could pull her knees under her and get up, I stood over her and flipped open the roll of bubble wrap like an evacuation slide on an airplane.  Like a lizard’s tongue, it uncoiled on her opposite side, all fourteen feet of it.  Her prone body was parallel to the eight foot length, and I kicked her square in the center of her back, push-rolling her onto the sheeting.  Another kick and she was far enough on the sheeting that I could grab the edge, which I pulled over her flailing arms.  I then rolled her over onto her stomach again.  Her arms were forced down to her sides, and I gained more confidence as I rolled her further and further along the fourteen foot length of the plastic, tighter and tighter.  By the time I got to the end, she was a mummy entombed in the roll, unable to move, and unable to bite or get to me with mouth or hands.
    Her moans grew more frantic, but were muffled now.
    I lay on top of the roll, feeling her struggling beneath me, but to no avail; my breath heaved and my heart pounded.  I was still crying, but now most of it was with relief.  I had no idea what I’d do with her, but I had her.  I had her. 
    Maybe I could find someone to help her.
     
    *****
     
    Cinching the sheeting together where I ran out of length, I struggled to drag the bundle containing my sister toward the house.   An old garden hose lay coiled there, and I picked it up to test it for usefulness.  The rubber was still soft enough to use for my purposes, so I cut an 8’ length of it and split it lengthwise with my pocketknife.  Now I had two pieces pliable enough to tie like a rope.  I sat on the roll with Jamie’s body inside it, and tied one length tightly around the end where her head was, and repeated the procedure where her feet were. 
    I took note that she was quie t now.  But I felt her shifting within, so could tell she was still alive – if that was even a word I could use to describe her anymore.  At the time, I really didn’t know.
    As I did this, I kept my eye on the pool and on the yard beyond where I sat working, because if there had been one curious zombie-neighbor, there could be more.  And I wasn’t comfortable anymore with just the .38 and three more rounds of ammo.  I needed way more firepower if this was as widespread as I had begun to fear.
    Trina was on my mind.  She was locked in the truck, and should be safe if she just stayed put, but she was six years old and not extremely logical.  I felt a sudden sense of dread and urgency even greater than what had seemed to become the new normal.
    I stood and looked down at the roll containing Jamie.  Slight movement.  No insane struggling, no screaming.  Stillness.  Silence.  I could take a moment and go check on Trina.
    My gun was in my hand as I opened the screen door and walked around the corner to the side yard.  The rear of the Suburban wa s visible, and looked okay.  I broke into a slight jog and seconds later I was at the truck.  I knocked softly on the window so as not to frighten Trina.  A second later I saw her little face appear before mine behind the