The Screaming (Book 1): Dead City Read Online Free PDF Page A

head was quickly getting worse, he struggled to concentrate on what he needed to do.
     
    “Must get out.”
     
                  He reached over the wall of the dock and pulled himself up. It felt like he was bench pressing a car, he was weak and so tired. He slowly crawled on to the dock side and rolled onto his back, exhausted. After several minutes of trying to get his breath back he rolled onto his front and pushed himself up onto all fours. Again needing to pause to get his breath back.
     
    “My…. errr head.”
     
                  He slowly raised himself to his feet and straightened himself up. Feeling was starting to come back to his legs. Pain, sharp pain on his right calf muscle. He reached down and felt a tender wound seeping blood through his trousers. A cut? There was no end of shit in that river. He tore a hole in his trousers to reveal a gaping bite mark.
     
    “The old man!”
     
                  The wound had two clearly defined rows of teeth marks, all seeping a mixture of blood and a green pus down his leg. Jez couldn’t move, his body was shutting down. He collapsed onto the dock floor and curled into a ball. The pain in his head was becoming unbearable. It was affecting his vision and he could hardly see. He raised his hands and rubbed his eyes. He pulled his hand away in shock. Blood on his fingers. He was crying blood. Fear covered him like an electric blanket. He was no longer cold, and he suddenly felt energy flowing back into his body like a shot of adrenaline to the heart, but he couldn’t move.
                 
    “Jez? Jez?”
     
                  Chris wiped the misted crane cab windows with his jacket sleeve, trying to see down to his friend. Frozen with fear to his seat, he had sat in the cab watching the whole filthy mess unfold before his disbelieving petrified eyes. He looked down at Jez way down below him, laid out like a squashed ant. Motionless. He then looked up in the direction of the approach road. The screamers were still frozen, staring away from the dock, up the road. One of the recently downed, portly truck drivers suddenly sprung to his feet, blood oozing from his eyes and mouth. He sniffed the air, scanning the horizon, before settling his gaze on the same unknown target as the others. Even from his bird’s eye vantage point, Chris was at a loss as to what had caught their interest.
     
    “Jez? Jez?”
     
                  Movement! He’s alive! Jez reached out a hand to his left and placed it on the floor, poised to slowly lift himself to his feet. He shuffled his knees up under him so he was huddled in a ball on the floor. An overwhelming relief covered Chris as he opened the crane cab door grasped an upright metal support and leaned out smiling down.
     
    “Get your arse up here dick head.” Chris yelled.
     
                  Jez snapped his head back at lightning speed. Chris stumbled backwards, the cab door slamming shut behind him, as he tried to find somewhere to hide in the small box. He struggled to control his breathing as panic consumed him and nervous heat flowed through his body. It wasn’t Jez, not anymore. He stared up at the crane cab high above. Not even blinking as blood drained from his eyes sockets down his face. His mouth being forced to drop open by the sheer quantity of blood pooling in his cheeks and releasing down his shirt.
     
    “Not Jez, please.”
     
                  Chris slowly edged forward, praying that he hadn’t been seen, and peered down at where Jez had been laying. Gone.
     
    “Maybe he ran off and joined the others.” Chris hoped.
     
                  He nervously scanned the dock, looking down each and every row of containers hoping to see a silhouette of Jez crawling or running up to the approach road. Nothing. He reluctantly looked closer and closer until he was looking right down towards the feet of the crane. There.