Zombie Fallout 4: The End Has Come and Gone Read Online Free PDF

than that time he had stopped a barge three miles off the shore of Florida that carried two nuclear warheads. This was far worse, this was quite literally happening on his own doorstep. Retreating into the alternate reality of HALO right now seemed like the wisest course of action. And he was close to that decision, he wanted to put this made-up nightmare behind him and go try out the new game armor he had purchased.
    He had actually started to softly close the screen door and turn to walk away when Chip’s or possibly Dale’s barking changed into a high pitched howl. “Never heard that before,” He said, frozen in indecision, half in and half out of the entrance. He gripped the door handle and pulled back quickly. “Whoa, that’s freezing!” he said, blowing air into his palm. Even the dog’s change in tone was not enough to force him into action. It was the three shambling strangers that had just entered into the circle of light at the base of his driveway that sealed the deal. “You guys don’t look so good,” he said as he twisted the knob and prayed to the patron Saint of All Who Opens Things that the door was not locked.
    He was in and had quickly shut the door before the smell assailed him. His first thought was that he was wearing the same shirt he had worn for yesterday’s luncheon special and had possibly taken home far more than his fair share of cloying liver and onions’ odor. Although that would have been heavenly compared to the aerial blast of assification that filled the room. Chip, the lighter colored of the two dogs came running down the hallway, tail tucked between his legs. He stopped right in front of Peter and began to piss all over the floor, something he could not remember the dog doing even when he was a puppy.
    “What’s the matter boy?” Peter asked, lowering himself down to the dog’s level. Chip was shaking violently and he pulled back when Peter tried to comfort him. Peter stood back up; Chip ran and hid behind the couch. “Mom? Dad?” Peter said so softly they might not have heard him if they were in the same room. Peter wanted to check the basement first because it was on the opposite side of the house from where Chip had run out from. “Not very logical,” he chided himself. “Or courageous. Come on, what would Death by Murder667 do? Well, first off he’d have an M392 and about 25 hand grenades, so that’s not going to work so much considering I don’t even own a squirt gun. But Dad does. Yeah, and it’s down the exact hallway you’d rather not go down. And who the hell are you talking to?” Peter started slowly down the hallway and turned back to where the small dog had hidden. “Any chance of some back up?” Not so much as a whimper. “Solo mission then,” he said, steeling himself to go down a path he’d traveled at least ten thousand times in virtual reality. The atmosphere, the stink, the feelings of dread all intensified. Each step became a chore, a vastly distasteful chore.
    He could hear something tapping in his parents’ bedroom. It was a discordant sound that more than anything had Peter on edge. The door was half open but no light spilled out, and the ambient light from the hallway did little to pierce the darkness beyond.
    “ This sucks ,” Peter said hardly a register above silent. The tapping grew louder and more frantic and then suddenly stopped. The tapping which he had found ominous was light years better than the ensuing quiet. Something stirred in the darkness. Peter involuntarily checked his chest for his trademark hand grenade bandoliers. “Yeah, that’s how most people solve their problems, throw a hand grenade in their parent’s bedroom.” A face materialized out of the gloom, it was familiar yet unrecognizable. His mother looked through Peter with opaque eyes. Blood lined her mouth, entrails emblazoned her night shirt, a jagged strip of flesh was torn from her forehead where dirty white bone shone in the light. If his mother had