The Infected Read Online Free PDF Page B

infected, one a boy who must have been barely 16 and the other an old man of an indeterminate age. Seven or eight more (healthy) people followed over the next minute or two, waving their arms and shouting in the direction of all the noise. I recognised one or two of them from around the complex – maybe I had bumped into them at the AGM or seen them on my way to the pool. I almost turned to run out the door and join them, but something stopped me. A minute later, the two infected had become twenty. A further minute and that number had doubled again. All the while, people tried to head in the direction of the sirens, which I believe at that point had stopped moving because the noise wasn’t getting any louder. One unlucky man wearing an Arsenal football shirt tried to barge past two of the infected, only to trip in a pothole which had obviously been hidden behind them. The two of them who had been knocked over were on their feet before Arsenal was able to drag himself up (it looked like he was in serious pain and, from the distance of my kitchen window, it looked like his ankle was pointing out at an improbable angle). Then a young guy ran past him towards the safety of the sirens, and hesitated, almost stopping to help, and from maybe 100m away I could hear Arsenal pleading to this youngster in a black vest. But the guy took one look at the two infected hovering over Arsenal and sped off. Luckily, I suppose, my view of the rest of this saga was obscured by a tree – I could hear Arsenal screaming in pain, but thankfully not for long.
     
    By this time the cacophony of noise coming from down the street to my left was almost unbearable. The sirens sang a disconcerting tune while the guy on the loudhailer pleaded for calm. Screams pierced the air and then gunshots started to ring out. All this noise just attracted more of the infected, and they continued to amble their way towards the sound of the sirens. Fuck, judging by the amount of them out there I was glad I didn’t try and go out.
     
    “Abort, abort!” screamed the man on the loudhailer as more rounds were fired off. He must have decided that enough was enough, as the next sound I heard was the loudhailer clanging to the floor and a high pitched shriek of feedback. And then the groaning of the infected.
     
    The screaming continued for another few minutes, interrupted briefly by the odd gunshot, and the last siren eventually died about fifteen minutes ago. The infected, many of them now sporting a new crimson shade of red down their fronts, have been milling about the area ever since. I won’t forget this afternoon in a hurry…
     
    Sam
     
    8:28am, May 8
    Just spoke to Johan and they are still okay at Eastgate, another twenty or so people have joined their group, and although he says that there has been some in-fighting, in his words, “Typical fuckin’ jocks having a who has got the bigger dick contest,” things seem to be going alright for them there. It seems that they are struggling though to find a ‘leader’ for their large group. But it sounds like they are quite sorted – beds from the bed stores, food from the food stores, clothes from the clothes stores. They have drafted up shifts for guarding the exits and seem to be pretty secure. He says that there are a couple of the infected hanging around the parking lot but not too many to be worried about. Melanie also called and they are settled in Westville just outside Dur Oh fuck. There’s one of them outside. I heard a noise and can see him in the garden of the unit below. Fuck.
     
    10:09am, May 8
    Okay, he’s gone, and my heart rate has finally dropped back to normal. Fuck! That was too close for comfort. Apart from my encounters in the car when I was taking Mrs. Myburg to her sister-in-law, I haven’t really seen any of the infected other than on TV or in the street from the relative safety of my kitchen window behind a six foot wall, electric fence and closed gate. (I can actually see the