900 Miles (Book 2): 900 Minutes by S. Johnathan Davis

Author:S. Johnathan Davis [Davis, S. Johnathan]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: zombies
Publisher: Severed Press
Published: 2014-10-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

NOTHING.

The heat from the fire radiated against my skin, and it felt like the body armor I was wearing was starting to melt. I wasn’t sure if it was burning, but I could almost taste the smell of melting plastic in the back of my throat.

For a moment, it felt as if the fire was alive, and moving in to cut off certain escape routes, blocking others with fallen debris. The bastard was daring us to try to make it, and putting up every defense it could throw at us.

At one point, an entire tree dropped down directly in our path. With the blaze to the right and left of the trail, we couldn’t simply go around the tree, and the flames shooting off the bark in front of us were too high to jump over. On the verge of turning back, we watched as the smaller of Gordon’s boys lifted his oversized weapon and started to fire. Screaming with delight, as the bullets tore through the burning tree, he blew a hole just large enough for us to squeeze through. It was us versus this most ancient of man’s foes, and none of us wanted to let the fire win.

A savagery pumped through my veins. The primal instinct to do whatever it would take to beat the flames. Another branch fell from above. Reaching up to shield my face, I knocked it away with my forearm. Feeling a burn across my chin, I realized my beard had caught fire. No stopping. No time to tend to the wound. It wasn’t the last one I’d get that day. We all kept pushing.

We just had to make it to the pass beyond the lake. When we were nearly at the tree line that would take us around where the fire had not yet reached the brittle forest, I took one last look over my shoulder. With the exception of some creatures dropping directly into the lake, most likely destined to live a waterlogged existence along with what was left of Rodgers, the mega-horde appeared to be splitting in two around the edges. I couldn’t be sure, but we appeared to be on the far left side of the horde’s path.

I could only hope that we’d be able to evade the bulk of the onslaught.

As we hurried around the tree line, a gust of wind pushed our mismatched group back. As the black, now melted body armor across my shoulders flapped from the force, I realized that the flames we’d made it past were literally trying to suck us back, soaking up all of the oxygen from the forest ahead.

Throwing caution to the wind, literally, we plowed through into the depths of the dark forest. With limited time to pass back between the fire and the horde that was quickly approaching, I went into a mental state that long distance runners often refer to as a runner’s high. I wasn’t even feeling my legs or my muscles, which I was sure

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