The Left Series (Book 2): Left Alone Read Online Free PDF Page A

went over sideways and crashed in an awkward heap onto the wooden floor.
    “Shit!” Smith yelled and rolled onto his back.
    The scene would have been comical if the situation hadn’t been so serious.
    I frantically glanced around the attic for something we could use as a step-up to the roof while Smith stumbled to his feet looking totally pissed off. An old, rusting kids push bike leaned against the wall in the far corner. I holstered my hand gun and quickly moved towards the bike, then wheeled it back towards the hole. The brakes were partially jammed on and the corroded wheels squeaked as I rolled the bicycle forward.
    “What are you going to do?” Smith sighed. “Fly that fucking thing out of here like E.T.?”
    “Stand on the seat and handle bars while I hold it steady,” I hissed.
    “How are you going to get up there, Einstein?”
    “We could stand here arguing all day but we having a pressing engagement with something called, trying to live ,” I rasped.
    Smith shook his head and clambered up onto the bike. I tried to hold it steady under his weight. The bike rocked around slightly and I heard the stream of undead bundling up the stairs. They must have overcome the obstacle in the shape of the sandbag on the steps.
    “Keep it still,” Smith hissed.
    He reached up to the wooden roof beam and hauled himself up onto the sagging tiles. The whole roof groaned under his weight and I thought for one moment the entire fucking lot was going to come down on top of our heads.
    Smith slowly crawled out of the hole into the daylight. I heard a high pitched moan and turned back to the stairway. A female ghoul with a shock of frizzy, ginger hair crawled up the top step on all fours. She shrieked and bared her teeth when her milky white eyes fixed on me.
    I glanced back up to the hole in the roof and Smith lay prone on the tiles trying to spread his weight evenly. A few of the loose tiles crashed down onto the floor near my feet. Smith reached down with his arm.
    “Grab my hand, Wilde Man,” he yelled.
    I reached up and slipped my hand into his. The Ginger zombie crawled across the floor towards me. More of the undead staggered into view up the stairs behind her. Smith hauled me skywards and several more loose tiles crashed to the ground. I dangled in mid air for a few seconds, not knowing if Smith was going to haul me up out of the hole. A steady stream of the undead jostled and bumped their way up the stairway into the attic space.
    I gripped the top edge of the broken timber with my free hand to give myself some sort of purchase to pull my body weight upwards. Ginger clambered to her feet and swatted the air below me. Her nails raked against the soles of my hiking boots.
    Smith grabbed the back of my shirt with his other hand and hauled me through the hole so my torso was onto the sagging roof. I kicked my legs in the air trying to force myself all the way out onto the tiles. The roof timbers creaked under the combined weight of Smith and I. Smith dragged me further out of the hole and I swung my left leg out onto the tiles. I clambered the last few inches and lay prone on top of the tiles breathing in a good lungful of sweet, fresh air.
    “You okay?” Smith asked, gathering his breath.
    I nodded. “We better get off this roof quickly, Smith. I don’t think it’s going to hold out much longer,” I panted.
    Smith patted his shirt pocket then the sides of his pants. “Shit, I left my smokes on the boat. Have you got any on you?”
    I slowly rolled onto my back and felt in my side pocket. I didn’t feel a rectangular shaped box. “I did have a pack on me but I must have dropped them climbing onto this roof.”
    I glanced back down into the hole and saw Ginger intently studying my pack of Marlboro reds. I pointed down into the attic room.
    “I’m not going back down there to get them.”
    Smith leaned over and gazed down at Ginger. He removed one of the loose tiles and hurled it through the hole. The tile