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

smashed into Ginger’s chin and the top of her chest and then broke into several pieces. Ginger dropped the cigarette pack and collapsed backwards into the gathering undead crowd.
    “Take some of that, you ugly fuck!”
    Smith was always pissed off when we ran out of smokes. The zombies inside the attic space below responded by reaching upward and moaning together in a chorus.
    “Let’s get gone,” Smith grunted.
    We crawled on our hands and knees across the roof towards the building adjacent to the workshop. I looked down at the ground below the two buildings and saw the prone bodies of the three zombies we’d dispatched earlier. The distance between the two buildings was roughly ten feet wide.
    “Think you can jump that, Wilde Man?”
    Thoughts of Julia plummeting to her death the last time I jumped between buildings on a Manhattan rooftop surfaced in my mind. I remembered the look of abject terror in her eyes when she knew she wasn’t going to make the jump. I knew that brief second would haunt my thoughts as long as I lived.
    “No problem,” I muttered.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
    I backed up a few paces then sprinted forward. I leapt the gap with ease and landed on top of the adjacent building. I crouched down on top of the ridge tiles on the spine of the roof. The image of Julia’s last frantic milliseconds of life flooded my mind and I felt a sorrowful lump rise in my throat.
    Smith clanked onto the tiles behind me. The moaning sounds from the undead subsided slightly as we disappeared from their view.
    “We’ll have to try and give the boat an overhaul somewhere further up the river,” Smith muttered. “This place is pissing me off.”
    The breeze blew in my face and I glanced up and looked out over the marina. I saw our boat still secured to the jetty, roughly one hundred yards in the distance and below us. Batfish stood on the deck with the shot gun in her hands. The two dogs stood each side of her. They were all facing out towards the river. I followed their gaze to the right and saw a small, gray boat approaching the jetty, its bows cutting through the water.
    “There’s another boat,” I said, pointing out to the river.
    I looked back at Smith, who stood astride the ridge tiles already surveying the incoming boat.
    “Looks like a small, U.S. Navy Patrol Boat,” he muttered.
    “That’s good, isn’t it?”
    “In case you’ve forgotten, kid, there ‘aint no Navy no more. There ‘aint no nothing no more.”
    “Who do think it is, then?” I asked.
    “I think that’s a shit load of trouble,” Smith growled.
    I heard the faint sound of Sherman barking at the incoming boat. He leapt backwards and forwards and Batfish put her hand on his head to try and calm him. A scruffy guy, dressed in combat gear manned a heavy machine gun on the Navy boat’s bow. He trained the weapon on Batfish, adjusting his aim as the boat drew closer. Batfish lifted the shot gun to her shoulder but kept the muzzle pointed at the deck to show she was armed but not posing a threat.
    The crowd of zombies in the adjacent building must have heard the boat’s engines and cranked up their noise with more lowing and moaning.
    Two more guys appeared on the Navy boat deck. One pointed an assault rifle at Batfish, while the other held a hand gun aimed at Sherman. Both guys were similarly dressed to the dude behind the heavy machine gun. One had long, straggly hair and the other wore a floppy, jungle fatigue hat. They talked to Batfish but we couldn’t make out what they were saying due to the noise of the zombies next door.
    The guy in the hat slung his assault rifle over his shoulder and tossed a grappling hook onto the deck of our boat. He hauled in the rope and drew the Navy boat alongside ours. Sherman was going berserk, bounding forward and then back, his head jolting up and down as he barked. Spot was also snapping his jaws, his hackles raised. 
    The guy with the long hair was motioning to Batfish