Left With The Dead

Начало книги

The dead were everywhere.

Gartrell sprinted through the darkened husk of New York City, the flare in his left hand sputtering and spitting as it slowly ran itself down. He felt its heat on his hand even through the heavy glove he wore. Ignoring the sensation, he ran through the night as fast as he could, weaving around abandoned cars and trucks. He avoided the sidewalk and kept to the street itself. The deserted vehicles served as a type of obstacle course, slowing down the tide of corpses that pursued him.

Just the same, it was only a matter of time until they caught him.

The flare sputtered its last, turning into just a glorified sparkler now. Gartrell flung it away. He juked to his right and slid on his ass across the hood of a taxi cab, firming his grip on the Atchisson AA-12 automatic shotgun that hung from his body by its patrol strap. He didn’t know how many rounds he had left, but it couldn’t be very many. Five? Six? Behind him, past the wall of stenches that pushed through the street after him, he heard the chatter of automatic gunfire. It was the Coast Guard ship’s.50 caliber machinegun, holding back the zeds in order for McDaniels and the others to get to safety. He wished them luck. They would need it.

Читать дальше →