The Infected (Book 1): Jim's First Day Read Online Free PDF Page B

Devon and Tracy climb
into the back seat. We get Bill to the street, but the infected are right
behind us. There is no time to pick up his body and force it into the back of
my car. They are too close. This shit can’t be happening. I lock eyes with Sam.
He is thinking it too. I close my eyes in despair and let go of Bill. Sam lets
go as well and within seconds Linda is on him. She’s quickly joined by the
other infected. When her first bite cuts into his skin it wakes him up. Bill
howls like an animal. His body turns over and he looks up at me. His eyes are
like an abandoned child. Hurting, disbelieving, how could I possibly leave him
for dead? I pop open the door to my car as Sam runs around to the passenger’s
side. Bill reaches out for me to save him. His hand flops around on the broken
joint.
    “DON’T
LEAVE!!”
    “WE
HAVE TO HELP HIM!” Devon wails from the back seat.
    “WE
CAN’T!” I turn back and look at Bill. “I’M SORRY!” my throat tightens. Tears
well up in my eyes. I slam my door shut, force the key into the ignition and
start the car. I could not save him. Bill fights but it is too late. They pile
on top of him and peel the meat from his big belly. 
    “PLEASE,
PLEASE, PLEASE!!! HELP ME!!!”
    I
put the car into gear and hit the gas. The tires screech as I make a U-turn. We
circle around Bill. The terror and fear in his eyes I know will haunt me for
the rest of my life. Hot tears make it hard to see. I am wracked with guilt.
Bill was not just my manager, he was a friend. I loved the man and I left him
to die. 
    “What
are we going to do?” Sam whispers. 
    “I
have to get home,” I can barely get the words out over the large gulps of air I
am taking in. I am not a religious man but I am praying for my family. Over and
over I repeat in my head. “Please let them be safe. Please let them be safe.” I
turn onto the road and head for home.

Chapter 4
     
    I
hammer through the gears in my car, a mid two thousands Mitsubishi Lancer. I
try my best to get my emotions under control. My hands shake uncontrollably. I
grip the wheel tighter to get them steady. My eyes sting. I look in the rearview
mirror; they’re bloodshot and wild. My breathing is erratic. I have what my
wife calls the snubs. That is when a child is so upset, that they cry so hard
they take in large breaths and then short breathes. I have the snubs bad.
    I
have never seen a human die before. Never witnessed anything like this. I am in
full-blown shock. I am covered in sweat. My skin feels cold and sticky. I rub
my eyes. Looking at my passengers, I don’t have to ask; I know they feel the
same. We will mourn Bill later, now I have to focus on the road.
    I
am only blocks away from my store and I have already seen cars blow through
stop signs, crash into each other, run over and destroy pedestrians on the
sidewalk. One car launched itself through an intersection, lost control and blasted
its way through someone’s garage door. We are passing over a major highway,
Portland calls it Highway 84. It looks like a concrete corridor cut into the earth.
It runs from one side of Portland to the other. It’s the main road to travel
East or West. It has eight-foot brick walls that line the highway. If you are
down in it, you are stuck. Only the on and off-ramps can let you out. I take a
quick glance down at the gridlock nightmare. Cars have forced themselves into
the small median, pinned between the concrete divider and the cars in the fast
lane. Vehicles are on fire. The lights of a police squad car and a fire truck
flash in the distance. Gunshots ring out down there in the trench. The report
on TV sounded like the areas around the hospitals will be heavy with the
infected. Right now those officers are only a hundred yards away from
Providence.
    I
am almost to an intersection when a logging truck blows the red light. I jam on
my brakes, the tires skid and the car slides to a stop just in time. My front
bumper is clipped and torn off. I hear