Infected Freaks (Book 2): The Echo of Decay by Jason Borrego

tag. Mr. Peterson.
    Then the freak staggered into an open classroom. Still, Hunter took off farther down the hall before Abraham could free his ankle. Shit , he thought as he skirted around a large bookshelf tipped between the saturated walls.
    Abraham’s sore eyes were able to read a few of the legible signs amongst the walls. Hunter was heading for the maintenance bay and must have remembered it connected through the gym. His grandson was trying to play hero. The only problem was heroes didn’t live long in their dying world. All at once, he realized Hunter was doing this for Sam. His grandson would never admit his feelings for Sam. Hunter was a cautious boy when it came to girls. Maybe his grandson felt sorry, yet the butterflies in his eyes sung a different tale. Maybe in a different world, he thought, feeling sorry for his grandson.
    Abraham touched Emme and then she touched Jeffery, each checking to make sure everyone was still together. At that moment, Abraham exploded off the floor, picking up speed. The degeneration of the alien fungus hit him in waves of nauseating pain. The air was too thin, and laced in spores. He pulled up his shirt over his mouth and then did the same for sweet little Emme. His granddaughter huffed out a surprised little breath that might have been the beginning of a scream. Jeffery didn’t seem to mind the orbit of infected flakes.
    Abraham had several theories about the spores, but he still didn’t know enough about this infection and its process. The spores were copious and clouded. He thought it best to avoid swallowing them. It reminded him of watching a swarm of bugs darken the air around his front porch light. The alien microorganisms, thick and potent, stung his eyes. Ahead, the sound of Hunter’s sneakers faded into the gymnasium. He was getting close and picked up the pace.
    A quick shadow moved across the basketball court toward the end of the gym. That had to be Hunter. Then Abraham’s eyes fixed on an immense square shape emerging from behind the bleachers. The horrific sight made it hard to think as his mouth stretch wide.
    His blood pressure surged and his heart beat with resolution. He saw a bulky abomination, well over twelve feet and in the shape of a hearty meatloaf. Its swollen face looked like a sea urchin—every inch moving and pulsing of its own accord. The thick pelt of the beast resembled the insides of a man, and a droopy maw laced in teeth was the color of smashed black berries. The thing was dressed in slabs of flesh and bone, boiled with sores of yellow, green, and brown. And the thing was only about twenty feet away.
    “Run!” he shouted, feeling the brisk air of Emme and her pet as they followed Hunter toward another set of double doors. Never taking his eyes off the slithering tub of lard, Abraham ran.
    Something fumed in that pile of guts. At that point, a buzzing sound from hell tore out its purple maw. Abraham froze for a second in fear and surprise. However, he fought against the mental paralysis and forced his body to move toward the doors. He reached out a hand and swatted at a dripping film of jelly as he entered the short hall. Abraham felt like a frightened child running from the boogie man. He pressed his back to the frame of the double doors as they slammed shut behind him.
    “We can’t go back that way,” he said, holding his chest.
    At the far end of the hall, Emme’s flashlight shone about the spread of blood and gore. A dozen infected freaks were dead and soiled the ground at least an inch deep in plasma and decay. He saw Hunter heaving a sullied ladder up and placing it next to an exposed vent. At the end of the short hall was a reinforced metal door. “Is it locked?”
    Hunter nodded trying to be brave. “Emme, you have to climb through and open the door from the other side.”
    “Not a problem.” A quick smile oozed over Emme’s shaded features. Her eyes swallowed the ladder and then the dark vent. It came as no surprise when her