The King of Clayfield - 01 Read Online Free PDF Page B

the contents to the dim light coming through the front of the bank.
    There were keys, a wallet, two tampons,   a partial pack of   gum, an ink pen, and some loose cough drops. I opened the wallet. It   wasn’t the woman with the mask. It was the woman I’d beaten with the broom handle. I felt a twinge of guilt, th en sadness as I looked at the face in the driver’s license photo. She was smiling. Her name was Rhonda Leslie Stern. She lived out   in the county on Foster Road.   She was   5′ 6″ tall and 135 lbs. She was   two years   younger than me. I didn’t recognize her, but we might have gone to high school together. I might have seen her around town. She might have visited the museum.   She was still alive–she wasn’t on the ground behind the museum anymore–but her life was over.
    I took her keys and left everything else.
    Once outside again, I had to figure out which car was hers. I could hit the unlock button on the key chain, but that might alert the small group of infected at the courthouse. The key was large with   a Chevrolet symbol on the back. I remembered a black Chevy Blazer parked around the rear lot. I crept around the corner of the building and bumped into a man.
    I stepped back away from him. I knew he was infected. Even though it was ten degrees below freezing, he was in short sleeves. He growled and stepped toward me. I raised my stick.
    When he attacked it took me by surprise even though it shouldn’t have. He grabbed my stick and we twirled around and slammed against the back wall of the bank. I stumbled and went down backwards. He fell with me, snarling in my face.

 
    CHAPTER 5
     
    His face was inches from mine. I’d managed to push the tobacco stick   against his throat   crosswise, and that was the only thing preventing him from biting me. He wanted to. Saliva hung off his bottom lip in a long syrupy strand. I couldn’t allow it to get in my eyes. There was an unnatural heat coming from his body.   I couldn’t imagine a person surviving a fever that high.
    I don’t know how much he weighed, but my adrenaline was pumping, and I was able to shove him away from me long enough   scoot backwards and get out from under him. By the time I   got to my feet, he was in a crouch ready to   lunge at   me again. I swung the stick like a bat and connected with his shoulder. He made a noise that was something like a cross between a scream and a moan and charged me. I was ready this time. I turned the stick again and leaned in.
    The stick caught him across the chest. He grabbed it, but I was able to turn him and   press him back against the wall. I got the stick against his throat again and put my weight against it. He didn’t have the leverage to push me away. Slobbering and eyes bulging, he   slapped me and   tugged   at my coat. I just kept leaning in. I didn’t even feel like it was me doing it.
    I noticed a couple of men   approaching from the direction of the museum. They were walking and didn’t seem interested in me just yet. I had to go, but this guy was still fighting me, and…where were the keys? I’d dropped them during the scuffle. Keeping my weight against the stick, I looked around. They were on the ground by the corner of the building.
    I looked the other direction toward the   approaching newcomers. They’d seen me. I   pulled the man away from the wall a little, and then slammed him back, his head smacking the bricks. While he was dazed, I   grabbed the keys.   I hit the unlock button on the key chain.   The lights flashed on the   Blazer and there was a little toot!   from the horn.
    The newcomers were very interested by that time. The other man had slid down the wall. I could see blood at the corner of his mouth, and he was making a loud rasping sound. I got to the truck in plenty of time. The interior of the vehicle smelled like the coconut air freshener hanging from the mirror. I noticed a   toddler’s car seat in the back. I tried to