A Shrouded World by Mark Tufo

Author:Mark Tufo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: action adventure, zombie action, undead, zombie adventure, zombie survival, zombie horror story, zombie apocalyspe, zombie book series, action adventure bestsellers, action adventure apocalyptic
Publisher: DevilDogPress

Michael Talbot – Journal Entry 7

The next twenty-four hours for me involved a death and a rebirth of sorts. The last things I remember with any clarity are Jack’s and my hastily laid plan to escape the water tower. Kind of had to like the guy, he ‘winged’ things about as much as I did. We were on that infernal ladder heading down towards a multitude of gnashing mouths. I thankfully swung Trip’s nasty pre-Reagan era underwear as far away from me as was humanly possible. It was just bad luck there was a prevailing wind that let me get one final intake of his crotch area. My last few cognizant thoughts, and one of them was going to be this? How bad must I have been in a former life that this was partial payment?

The underwear arced out and then plummeted to the ground where I swear (maybe not on a stack of bibles) that I heard them splash wetly down onto dry ground. Let that visual sink in for a couple of seconds. Zombies and Jack’s night runners were heading straight for it like the heavily-stained cotton cloth was a human buffet and not the accumulated dingle-berries of a burn out. I was vigorously rubbing my free hand against my poncho in the hopes I would be able to wipe off what I undoubtedly ‘caught’ as Jack was tossing the C-4. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Trip stir. It...it just happened so fast I couldn’t react. Maybe I was thinking that it wasn’t possible or that even ‘he’ couldn’t be that close to insane. I was wrong on both counts…all counts really.

I heard Trip yell “Pull!” That stupid fucking slingshot came up, and a ball-bearing was heading for a target I intrinsically knew he was going to hit. I swear I could hear Jack’s expression drop. The C-4, which had been on a trajectory that would have been a safe enough distance away, now dropped faster than a nun’s knees at church. (Oh get your head out of the gutter, I’m talking about genuflecting in prayer!) I stuck my head through the safety bars that enshrouded the ladder to watch. I guess I was either hoping it would hit the ground and miraculously bounce away, or it was a twenty car pile-up happening in front of me and I had to see how it was going to end. The C-4 literally just splatted to the ground and stopped. Of course it didn’t help matters that it was leaning against one of the support legs for the tower.

“No fucking way.” I may or may not have said that out loud.

Maybe it was Jack, I don’t know, things started to get blurry, but he recommended we cover ourselves, and that sounded like a pretty damn good idea. The explosion was deafening and blinding; my senses were rocked. I gripped that ladder hard enough that a casual observer may have thought we were lovers of some metal-human fetish.

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