The Reanimates (Book 3): The Escape Read Online Free PDF Page A

an intact roof, a car. This house was not something someone could survive in during the upcoming winter, not to mention that zombie survival was not a solo project. This man had to be part of something bigger, maybe the first stop watch point, a clever ruse to deter would-be thieves. I pointed him out to Trent, and he glanced over quickly, but didn't slow at all. We didn't want to give the impression that we were scoping him out. Besides, it was obvious by the way he held on to that gun that he was in no position to want visitors, and we knew better than to force his hand. If some strange car showed up at Kristen's, we would fire first then ask questions later. It was that sort of world.
    When we arrived at Wilsall, we decided that we needed to set up a home base. The first house we came to was set off of the road and closer to the creek, and we quickly saw the benefits of the location as a starting point. The driveway wound around a bit before the front of the house was totally visible. Closed curtains in the windows made sure that the house's secrets would have to be learned the hard way.
    We climbed out of the truck and silently trekked towards the home. The porch was thin and a pair of rocking chairs took up most of the walkway of this one story ranch house. We approached with caution, our guns drawn and our ears listening for any sign of life or reanimation. The door was left open, and the screen door was hanging haphazardly on the bottom hinge. The top hinge was pulled from the door frame, and the screws that once anchored the door to the house were left dangling from the metal, wood shavings still embedded in the twisted teeth.
    Tyreese moved quickly to the opposite side of the door as Trent approached the side closest to us. I stood behind Trent keeping my eye out on the front yard, scanning constantly for threats. They both quickly looked inside, with their heads bobbing in and out of the door. It was like watching a cop movie to see them peeking around the corners like that.
    Trent readjusted his grip on his gun before taking a deep breath. In a rasping whisper, Trent called inside of the house, "Hello? Anyone inside?" No one answered and there was no movement inside to indicate anything or anyone heard him. I hoped that in the time that passed, any zombies would have long moved on after the food ran out, but there was always that fear that I was wrong.
    We entered the house and went room by room, peeking in closets and under the beds, to make sure that it was clear. When we found nothing, we closed the front door and bolted the locks.
    I remembered Scipio, when we first came to the house there. I remembered the feeling that washed over me in waves when I was face to face with the proof that we were in an abandoned home, not just some house that was foreclosed on. This place triggered that same feeling. Under a layer of dust, we were watched by the photographs that still hung on the walls. We were intruders in a home that once was loved by a family.
    This house had apparently been owned by a middle aged couple with a teenage boy and a preteen daughter. I ran my hand across the glass to remove a layer of grime. The girl smiled through metal braces. She was an awkward thing, thin and stiffly posed. Her self-consciousness was obvious, like the insecurity was painted on over the blue dress she wore. The boy was more confident; his eyes stared into the camera with an almost arrogant smile. The parents were posed behind the kids, their arms wrapped round each other and the other hand resting on the shoulder of the kid in front of them. I wondered if they were nice people. I wondered if they escaped in time or if they were a member of team zombie. My brain jumped tracks and I thought about all the zombies out there that were in various stages of orthodontic work before the apocalypse began. I wondered how long the metal glued to the teeth of the undead would stay attached. I shook my head to try to clear out the images of