Affliction Z (Book 3): Descended in Blood by Ryan L.T

Author:Ryan, L.T. [Ryan, L.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombies
Published: 2014-10-21T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

The pickup trucks rumbled forward along the deserted asphalt. Large tires sounded as though they crunched the road beneath them. Skeletal remains of wrecked and abandoned vehicles appeared every so often, but for the most part, the back roads were empty.

The sun came and went behind the thickening clouds. Warm air fragranced with pine blew in through the opened windows.

Twice the convoy had gone off road where pileups blocked the way. Each time, they had sent a scout ahead to verify no one lay in wait, ready to ambush the group.

Three crew cab trucks carried eighteen men. Four seated inside each vehicle, and two in each truck bed, armed with assault rifles and enough ammunition to take on a militia. If someone or something tried to stop them, they’d be mowed down in a hail of lead.

Phil recalled the scene at the house on the hill. The names of the folks who had lived there escaped him now. They didn’t matter. Wasn’t their bodies strewn about the property. Murdered. Butchered. All while trying to investigate a potential threat to their camp.

The work of Sean Ryder, Phil had told Barton and the others. Without a doubt. And when he had produced the linked GPS unit and showed them Ryder’s location, each man nodded in turn and said something along the lines of how they would avenge their fallen brethren. There had been some debate over what to do with Ryder once they found him. Phil had stepped in at that point and assumed control. Ryder, Phil had assured them, was no ordinary survivalist. He had training and skills that would make it difficult to apprehend him. He might not go quietly. They had to be prepared to coerce him, or straight up execute him on sight.

Nothing would please Phil more than apprehending Ryder and feeding him to the afflicted.

Alive.

Like those he had sworn to protect at his camp.

Phil rode in the front passenger seat with Barton driving. Behind him sat Justin and Ralph. They had remained silent since crossing the border into North Carolina. Finally, Barton cleared his throat and spoke.

“How are we looking?”

Phil looked down at the GPS. The linked unit had been motionless every time he checked during the previous fifteen minutes. “Still at the south end of Chapel Hill. We’re close, maybe three miles away.”

A few weeks ago, that would have meant there were minutes left in the journey. Not anymore. They were transitioning from country to the suburbs. Cars lined the road shoulder in greater numbers. People fleeing attack, or out of gas. Or taking their last breaths as the sickness overcame them and pushed them into the next life. For some that meant death.

For the others, damnation.

Phil glanced out and saw a group of afflicted. His breath caught in his throat and he jutted his finger at the seven figures who stood in a ditch. Their expressions blank. Gazes turned toward the sky. Were they sleeping? Were their minds so far gone that without prey to hunt they just gazed upward, doing nothing?

Behind him, Ralph breathed rapidly and heavily.

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