Mutation (Twenty-Five Percent Book 1) by Nerys Wheatley Page A

getting so angry.  He put it down to a long day of being chased by people who wanted to either eat him or simply kill him, and a severe case of caffeine withdrawal. 
    “Well, it seems to me,” Micah said, “that the only thing to be done is for you to go out there and see whether or not they attack you.”
    Alex knew Micah was right, but the smug tone in his voice made him want to disagree with everything he said. “That’s a stupid idea.” 
    “Do you have any better ones?”
    “I... just give me a minute.”
    Alex secured the bandage and tried to think of something else they could do.  Anything else they could do.  After a few minutes he’d come up with nothing, other than throwing Micah out of the window and making a run for it while the eaters outside dined on annoying smartarse á la carte. 
    He groaned out loud. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll go out there.  But if I get into trouble, I expect you to start shooting eaters so I can get back in.”
    “Of course,” Micah said, his expression neutral.
    Alex was fairly sure he was lying.  “I mean it.  I could just throw you to them as a distraction while I got away.”
    “If it makes you feel good to think you could do that, go ahead.”
    Alex sighed and stood up.  After throwing one last glare at Micah, he headed for the stairs.  Why, of all the people to get stuck with during a Meir’s outbreak, did he have to get him?  He should have stayed with the blonde from the phone box.
    Reaching the living room, Alex peered out through the window.  Down at street level, the eaters just feet away, it looked ten times worse.  This was a stupendously moronic idea.  He had no illusions that Micah would help him in any way if things went south.  If the eaters decided he smelled good enough to munch, that would be it. 
    He topped up the magazine in his pistol from a clip in his bag, then went to the kitchen and found a knife.  He decided against taking the sword.  If things went wrong, he needed something he could use in close quarters, not to mention something he was vaguely proficient with. 
    Going to the door, he peered out the spy hole.  The eaters had lost interest in the house, or forgotten they were in there, and had moved away back down the steps into the garden.  They were now wandering around, those who hadn’t found the open gate confined by the wall which was proving too much of an obstacle to overcome without any motivation.
    Alex sighed, gripped his knife as tightly as he could without hurting the cuts on his hand, and turned the key.  He opened the door enough to see out, making sure none of the eaters were paying him undue attention, then stepped through and pulled it closed behind him.
    He walked down the steps in front of the door, imitating the eaters with slow, clumsy movements.  Most of them had moved away from directly in front of the house and were shuffling around the garden, heedlessly trampling the neat flowerbeds.  Alex kept a careful watch for any reaction to him as he moved towards them.
    A few looked up and wandered over.  Alex fought the urge to run screaming.  At somewhere around five feet away, they paused, raising their heads.  They didn’t actually sniff the air, but Alex knew they were mulling over his scent.  He flicked his eyes back to the door, then up at Micah, just visible at the partially open bedroom window.  If this wasn’t going to work, he was going to have to run. 
    After several terrifying seconds when he saw his life flashing before his eyes, but only the bad parts, the eaters turned away and went back to their aimless shuffling.  He breathed out and glanced up at Micah.  The window closed.
    Alex took the opportunity to look around.  Wandering over to the three foot high wall, he looked up and down the residential street.  Lights were visible in some of the houses.  Eaters, of course, were clustered around those houses more than the others.  He wasn’t sure how they knew that light