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

little friend, Jeffery, followed.
    The loud clap of flesh against the metal double doors between Abraham and the gym brought an awful flavor to his dry mouth. “Did you see that thing?” he asked Hunter.
    Hunter swallowed hard. “No, but I sensed it.”
    Then, the teeth of the unknown abomination in the gym scraped across the sealed entrance. Abraham hurried away, feeling the humid breath seep through the cracks in the damaged walls. “Hurry up, Emme,” he said, pointing with his pistol. “It looked like grandma’s meatloaf.”
    “Meatloaf, it seems we have a name for it.” Hunter placed his soggy spine against the inaccessible door to the maintenance bay and tried the handle again. It was still locked. “I’m sorry,” he spat, wiping his runny nose with his rough sleeve. “I shouldn’t have run off.”
    “You led us to the right place. If we live through this, I won’t have any hard feelings.” Abraham reached up and ruffled Hunter’s messy tangle of hair.
    A loud bang reverberated from the gym, followed by the thing pounding against the double doors, shaking the crippled foundation. Panic exploded in his chest. Abrahams’s eyes gleamed as one of the double doors tore from the frame with a thunderous clap.
    In a smooth, sucking motion, the thing devoured the entrance like a supernatural monster. The meatloaf’s terrible maw splintered every piece of debris in a nauseating, slurping sound of chaos. The abomination lowered its blocked-shaped frame and hissed. Its maw unhinged and opened up like a snake getting ready to swallow a man. Its bloated slabs of revolting flesh and bone stuffed into the hall in a hurry.
    Muzzle flashes lit up the dim space as Abraham emptied his pistol. Hunter fired the rifle as fast as he could. Neither had damaged the monster. The only thing they managed was to send the abomination into a rage. It jeered and squeezed as it inched farther down the short hallway. It was like being trapped between two walls, only one had teeth.
    “Well aren’t you pretty?” Abraham croaked, inserting a fresh magazine into the gun. The thing was halfway through the short hall. The thuds of its powerful block frame tearing parts of the drywall were queer on his ears.
    Desperate, he fired till empty again and then holstered the worthless pistol, regretting leaving the big guns in the Blazer. “Get back,” he said. Abraham squeezed his eyes shut as he whipped out his trusty hammer, poking his tongue into cheek. Nobody was hurt, but he knew it was only a matter of time. He tried to remember his wife’s face, but couldn’t. All he saw was his grandson getting torn to piece in the fast-approaching demonic maw of the abomination. Not on my watch.
    Hunter pressed against the locked door, fumbling another bullet into the chamber. There was no were else to go or hide.
    “Stay behind me,” Abraham ordered, taking two steps forward. Life wasn’t fair, but he would be torn to shreds if it gave his grandson a chance. “Fuck you and your red bitch mother.” He stood with his chin raised toward the advancing abomination, his angry eyes boiling in a crimson hate.
    Hunter fired his rifle again. This time he aimed for the sloping roof. Part of the ceiling caved in, trapping the monster in a sudden mess of debris.
    Abraham had never been so proud.
    The stuck freak responded with an ear bleeding sound that was sure to peel paint. At that moment, a small swarm of bees, no locust, no something he’d never seen on God’s green earth came boiling out like missiles. The swarm burned forward, attacking sections of his heavy coat and jeans. Abraham ogled the freak with rebellious intent as he swatted at the outlandish bugs. He never saw anything like them, not even in his dreams.
    Then, Hunter stumbled forward. His grandson must have been under some sort of trance. For whatever reasoning’s raging in his mind, he must have felt compelled to prove himself worthy of courage. This shocked Abraham. He reacted with a