THE KILLER ANGEL: Book Two "Legend" (THE KILLER ANGEL TRILOGY 2) Read Online Free PDF
Author: Myles Stafford
need to treat runners with the decency reserved for the normal dead, but this time, somehow, it felt different. I looked at their horrifying faces; the bulging eyes, the ghastly mouths and broken teeth, the black vomit...hardly human.
I exited the pit and set off. I had no way to fill the deep hollow that now served as a tomb and I needed to move on. I never wanted to see that miserable place again, and I was only too happy to leave Dr. Cott to her own machinations, whatever they might be.
Chapter Three
“Ben”
I T WAS slow going with Ben. Normally so powerful and active, his injuries were holding him down. The doctor had done good work to heal him, that was evident, but he needed time to recover and it was getting late and cooling off fast. I had to find sanctuary.
When we were about a mile from the winery, there was a flash of light and a loud explosion from behind us. I looked back and could see a plume of gray smoke rising above the tree tops in the same general direction as the sound. Then several more explosions. Evidently, Dr. Cott was having trouble, probably with Seth, which in no way concerned me. They deserved each other.
Of course, I was aware of what almost always followed such an event, so Ben and I exited the two-lane blacktop and clambered up a small, steep hill through which the road had been cut. We sat back and quietly waited in cover. It did not take long. Within minutes, a few birds and other small animals came racing past, clearly in panic.
Then, as anticipated, frothing runners sprinted by, charging madly in the direction of the smoke in groups of two or three, ugly as ever. Ben cowered behind me, his tail under his hind legs. It made me angry to see my fearless companion so cowed. I could only wonder what misery and fright he had endured.
The exposure of this position was unappealing to me, but it was reasonably defensible, at least from the front, and visibility was very good. It was getting too late to reach my target layover, a country store that I noticed while on my trek to retrieve Ben, so this would have to do.
After a quick reconnaissance of our surroundings, I moved back into the treeline and prepared the most comfortable position that I could manage for the two of us.
I rolled out a small mat and my lightweight sleeping bag, then laid out snacks and water for Ben and myself. After the meal and a gentle brushing, he perked up, and seemed to be slowly regaining his powerful canine personality.
Following our Spartan repast, I cleaned, oiled and carefully organized my weapons and gear, then lay back, with my weakened, yet still powerful friend warming my side.
Ben was not yet his old self, neither physically nor mentally. He whimpered a bit as he nuzzled my arm. I knew that his injuries were not severe, and that he would be fit again, but I wondered if he would entirely regain his former mental brilliance and confidence.
Nomatter
, I thought,
I am here with you for the long haul, my little man
.
I tried to think of anything other than the events of that day, and of the mysterious, beautiful, young stranger who had taken on my likeness...and perished as a result. I felt responsible, and somehow guilty.
I should have been faster! No! Think of something else!
I reminisced back to my first encounter with my faithful companion over a year and a half ago, a pleasant and uplifting chain of thought. It was Ben who found me. It was Ben who adopted me. He gave me friendship, love and loyalty, and was largely responsible for arousing the courage that I needed to ultimately leave the confines of that massive Burbank store, wherein I had been timidly living out each boring day.
He had saved my life so many times
...
After a couple of months of hard, dangerous travel with a variety of survivors, I had made my way from Phoenix to the little Burbank apartment in which Kip and I loved and laughed. That journey is a saga all by itself, no embellishment required, filled with multiple near-fatal
I exited the pit and set off. I had no way to fill the deep hollow that now served as a tomb and I needed to move on. I never wanted to see that miserable place again, and I was only too happy to leave Dr. Cott to her own machinations, whatever they might be.
Chapter Three
“Ben”
I T WAS slow going with Ben. Normally so powerful and active, his injuries were holding him down. The doctor had done good work to heal him, that was evident, but he needed time to recover and it was getting late and cooling off fast. I had to find sanctuary.
When we were about a mile from the winery, there was a flash of light and a loud explosion from behind us. I looked back and could see a plume of gray smoke rising above the tree tops in the same general direction as the sound. Then several more explosions. Evidently, Dr. Cott was having trouble, probably with Seth, which in no way concerned me. They deserved each other.
Of course, I was aware of what almost always followed such an event, so Ben and I exited the two-lane blacktop and clambered up a small, steep hill through which the road had been cut. We sat back and quietly waited in cover. It did not take long. Within minutes, a few birds and other small animals came racing past, clearly in panic.
Then, as anticipated, frothing runners sprinted by, charging madly in the direction of the smoke in groups of two or three, ugly as ever. Ben cowered behind me, his tail under his hind legs. It made me angry to see my fearless companion so cowed. I could only wonder what misery and fright he had endured.
The exposure of this position was unappealing to me, but it was reasonably defensible, at least from the front, and visibility was very good. It was getting too late to reach my target layover, a country store that I noticed while on my trek to retrieve Ben, so this would have to do.
After a quick reconnaissance of our surroundings, I moved back into the treeline and prepared the most comfortable position that I could manage for the two of us.
I rolled out a small mat and my lightweight sleeping bag, then laid out snacks and water for Ben and myself. After the meal and a gentle brushing, he perked up, and seemed to be slowly regaining his powerful canine personality.
Following our Spartan repast, I cleaned, oiled and carefully organized my weapons and gear, then lay back, with my weakened, yet still powerful friend warming my side.
Ben was not yet his old self, neither physically nor mentally. He whimpered a bit as he nuzzled my arm. I knew that his injuries were not severe, and that he would be fit again, but I wondered if he would entirely regain his former mental brilliance and confidence.
Nomatter
, I thought,
I am here with you for the long haul, my little man
.
I tried to think of anything other than the events of that day, and of the mysterious, beautiful, young stranger who had taken on my likeness...and perished as a result. I felt responsible, and somehow guilty.
I should have been faster! No! Think of something else!
I reminisced back to my first encounter with my faithful companion over a year and a half ago, a pleasant and uplifting chain of thought. It was Ben who found me. It was Ben who adopted me. He gave me friendship, love and loyalty, and was largely responsible for arousing the courage that I needed to ultimately leave the confines of that massive Burbank store, wherein I had been timidly living out each boring day.
He had saved my life so many times
...
After a couple of months of hard, dangerous travel with a variety of survivors, I had made my way from Phoenix to the little Burbank apartment in which Kip and I loved and laughed. That journey is a saga all by itself, no embellishment required, filled with multiple near-fatal
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