The Plague (Book 0): Day Zero Read Online Free PDF Page A

dropped himself in a chair and grabbed a beer from the cooler that had been waiting for him all day.
    The sun was setting; his porch lights turning on. He took another drag of the cigarette, then, chugged half the beer in one go. “Ah,” he exhaled, slouching back. Eli rested his eyes; only for them to be abruptly opened by the piercing sound of sirens off in the distance.
    Must be Gabe, he thought. Crazy fuck always running from the cops.
    Eli looked over to his right, he couldn’t tell what he was seeing as the sunlight was glaring right into his face. A dark figure limped its way up to his house from across the road. “Who goes there?” Eli called out, putting his hand on his forehead to get a better visual. The figure got closer and he could see it better now: blood covered the hill-billy’s torn up overalls.
    “What the…,” he muttered. “Hey, get the fuck outta here, man!” Eli demanded. “I don’t want trouble coming up to my doorstep. ” The hill-billy replied with a stretched out “ Uhh” …
    Eli grabbed his keys from the small, round table and picked up the claw hammer from his toolbox. “What the fuck did I just say?” Eli walked down the steps. “Are you gonna listen to me or am I gonna have to beat some sense into your dumb-ass?”
    As he got closer to the hill-billy, he noticed something off. Eli halted. The guy’s skin was discolored, his eyes bloodshot.
    “Christ…,” Eli muttered . The hill-billy hissed and darted for Eli. Eli backed away, running back up the steps stumbling. He fumbled around with his keys, trying to find the one that unlocked his front door. The keys slipped from his sweaty fingers.
    Without any time to pick them up, the hill-billy lunged at Eli, pinning him to the door. “Ah!” The hammer dropped. Eli struggled with the undead man. “Let me go,” he screamed.
    The hill-billy got a hold of Eli’s long hair and yanked his head towards its teeth. Eli remembered how it was limping its way to him, and he shoved his boot with so much force into the injured knee that he heard a pop. The hill-billy hissed again. Eli pressed his hand against its face and shoved it hard enough to where it tumbled and rolled down the steps, smacking against the concrete pathway.
    Using its fingernails to dig into the grass and dirt it pulled itself. Crawling.
    Eli grabbed the hammer and walked cautiously down the steps. He raised the hammer as high as his long arms could go, with the intent to bash this thing’s head in. Just as he was about to swing, he noticed two more figures coming down the road. Then a few more, and a few more after that. All of them moved faster than this previous one. From down both sides of the road, to the open fields across the property, to even behind, he was surrounded.
    “What in the world…”
     
    Eli bolted the front door behind him. Its hinges screamed in agony—sounding like they could pop off at any second, as the gang of the undead whacked the palms of their hands against the splinter-filled wood.
    He opened the closet located in the hallway between the dining room and living room. He pulled the string down, flooding light to a room that was mostly forgotten over the years.
    He parted his jackets and more of his flannels out of his path, revealing a rack of rifles, and a drawer containing ammunition. The closet wasn’t the only place in Eli’s house that had a stash of weapons lying around.
    Eli grabbed the double-barreled shotgun and the box of buckshots. He poured the shells onto the dining room table, scattering them about, some dropping to the floor. Then, he loaded it.
    Last time Eli used any of his guns was back a few years when him and his old man would spend an entire weekend—just the two of them, hunting for game all day, from sunrise to sunset. Hours went by. Neither of them said a word. Always remember to make sure it’s fully dead before you bring it home, Eli, his old man would say. Eli was uncertain to why that quote by his old