The Hungry (Book 2): The Wrath of God by Steven Booth, Harry Shannon Page B
Authors: Steven Booth, Harry Shannon
Ads: Link
Miller backed away. Scratch crouched against the wall, a few feet from the door. He looked at Rat and Miller. He flashed them a tight grin.
The door clicked, and the handle turned. It opened just a crack. Rat stood where Psycho could see her, her chest out and her hands in plain sight. Miller crept closer but also stayed in plain view. The two women tried looking defeated and scared. Psycho checked both sides of the doorway for a trap. Saw nothing. Miller gave him an encouraging smile. Psycho gripped and turned the knob.
Scratch touched the live ends of the power cord to the handle.
There was a loud pop and a bright spark. The lights immediately went out. Miller smelled burnt meat. Psycho bellowed in pain and stumbled forward into the room.
Miller ignored the sudden darkness. She reached up for Psycho's hand and yanked. Psycho lost his balance and came further into the room. His rifle flared as it fired once, twice. Miller brought her fist down on the back of his neck. She felt Rat jump on Psycho as well. The two women pummeled his head and Miller yanked the weapon away. Someone else landed on Psycho, perhaps Lovell. Psycho began to fold at the knees then went flat. They all clubbed him into submission. Everything went silent.
"Anybody hit?" asked Miller anxiously.
"No," came from all around.
"I thought he was supposed to get scorched," Rat called. "You didn't tell us that the lights would go off, Mr. Electrician."
Scratch said nothing. They waited in darkness.
"Is he out?" asked Miller.
"Yeah, he's out," said Rat.
Lovell pulled out his flashlight. He shined it on Psycho. The big man's eyes were closed, and a bit of blood dribbled from his flattened nose. His right hand was red and blistered and had clamped into a claw. He was still breathing.
With Lovell holding the light, Rat collected Psycho's rifle, pistol, and reloads. She flipped him over and pulled out his spare pair of handcuffs. She snapped them around his wrists. "Let's go."
"What about him?" asked Sheppard.
"Motherfucker was going to leave us all here die or become zombie bait," said Lovell, bitterly. "Only reason he came in was because you two offered to let him fuck you to death. So I say fuck him ."
"We can't just leave him here," said Sheppard. "That makes us no better than those assholes. We have to take him with us."
"You got to be kidding me," said Lovell. "Seriously, Captain America?"
"Actually, I'm with Sheppard," said Terrill Lee. "Just maybe for a different reason. If it gets rough out there with the zombies we may need an extra gun."
"Not me," Scratch said. "I say waste his sorry ass."
Miller and Rat said nothing. Lovell shined his light on Rat. She looked washed out and homely in the bright, pale glare, which made Miller feel all warm and happy inside, then silly and cheap.
"What's it going to be, Rat?" Lovell sounded confused and pissed off.
Before she could say anything, Miller said, "Nobody dies. We all go home."
For a long time, Rat said nothing back.
"Lovell," Rat said, finally. "I hear you but they're right. We'll need every man we can get to make it out of here. Help me get him up."
Sheppard stepped forward. "I got it." He expertly checked Psycho over, and after determining that he was still alive, pulled something out of his pocket. He opened it up, and a sharp, ammonia smell filled the room. Sheppard held it under Psycho's nose. The huge man immediately snorted blood and stirred.
"Jeez!"
"Get up," said Rat. She held the rifle pointed at him.
"What da fuck?" Psycho sounded like a man with a stifling head cold.
Rat nodded in the dim light. Sheppard and Lovell grabbed him under the armpits and hauled him to his feet.
"Shit. Ripper's gonna really be pissed," mumbled Psycho.
Lovell responded. "You know what, you dumb bastard? Fuck Ripper."
"If you two lovebirds are done making out," said Miller, "I think it's time to go. They might figure out how to get the lights back on soon."
"Let's rock," Scratch said.
Rat handed
The door clicked, and the handle turned. It opened just a crack. Rat stood where Psycho could see her, her chest out and her hands in plain sight. Miller crept closer but also stayed in plain view. The two women tried looking defeated and scared. Psycho checked both sides of the doorway for a trap. Saw nothing. Miller gave him an encouraging smile. Psycho gripped and turned the knob.
Scratch touched the live ends of the power cord to the handle.
There was a loud pop and a bright spark. The lights immediately went out. Miller smelled burnt meat. Psycho bellowed in pain and stumbled forward into the room.
Miller ignored the sudden darkness. She reached up for Psycho's hand and yanked. Psycho lost his balance and came further into the room. His rifle flared as it fired once, twice. Miller brought her fist down on the back of his neck. She felt Rat jump on Psycho as well. The two women pummeled his head and Miller yanked the weapon away. Someone else landed on Psycho, perhaps Lovell. Psycho began to fold at the knees then went flat. They all clubbed him into submission. Everything went silent.
"Anybody hit?" asked Miller anxiously.
"No," came from all around.
"I thought he was supposed to get scorched," Rat called. "You didn't tell us that the lights would go off, Mr. Electrician."
Scratch said nothing. They waited in darkness.
"Is he out?" asked Miller.
"Yeah, he's out," said Rat.
Lovell pulled out his flashlight. He shined it on Psycho. The big man's eyes were closed, and a bit of blood dribbled from his flattened nose. His right hand was red and blistered and had clamped into a claw. He was still breathing.
With Lovell holding the light, Rat collected Psycho's rifle, pistol, and reloads. She flipped him over and pulled out his spare pair of handcuffs. She snapped them around his wrists. "Let's go."
"What about him?" asked Sheppard.
"Motherfucker was going to leave us all here die or become zombie bait," said Lovell, bitterly. "Only reason he came in was because you two offered to let him fuck you to death. So I say fuck him ."
"We can't just leave him here," said Sheppard. "That makes us no better than those assholes. We have to take him with us."
"You got to be kidding me," said Lovell. "Seriously, Captain America?"
"Actually, I'm with Sheppard," said Terrill Lee. "Just maybe for a different reason. If it gets rough out there with the zombies we may need an extra gun."
"Not me," Scratch said. "I say waste his sorry ass."
Miller and Rat said nothing. Lovell shined his light on Rat. She looked washed out and homely in the bright, pale glare, which made Miller feel all warm and happy inside, then silly and cheap.
"What's it going to be, Rat?" Lovell sounded confused and pissed off.
Before she could say anything, Miller said, "Nobody dies. We all go home."
For a long time, Rat said nothing back.
"Lovell," Rat said, finally. "I hear you but they're right. We'll need every man we can get to make it out of here. Help me get him up."
Sheppard stepped forward. "I got it." He expertly checked Psycho over, and after determining that he was still alive, pulled something out of his pocket. He opened it up, and a sharp, ammonia smell filled the room. Sheppard held it under Psycho's nose. The huge man immediately snorted blood and stirred.
"Jeez!"
"Get up," said Rat. She held the rifle pointed at him.
"What da fuck?" Psycho sounded like a man with a stifling head cold.
Rat nodded in the dim light. Sheppard and Lovell grabbed him under the armpits and hauled him to his feet.
"Shit. Ripper's gonna really be pissed," mumbled Psycho.
Lovell responded. "You know what, you dumb bastard? Fuck Ripper."
"If you two lovebirds are done making out," said Miller, "I think it's time to go. They might figure out how to get the lights back on soon."
"Let's rock," Scratch said.
Rat handed
Similar Books
