Blood Type Infected (Book 2): Fallen To The Flame by Marchon Matthew

Author:Marchon, Matthew [Marchon, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Published: 2018-09-28T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

“Noah, there’s more coming. What do we do?”

What does she mean ‘what do we do’? Why is she speaking? She’s dead, isn’t she? Her voice is muffled but I’m positive, that was her.

I squint between a flutter of rapid blinks. The blurred images around me are starting to make sense again. That shiny glare on her neck wasn’t her necklace, it was the chainmail that covers her body, head to wrists. He did bite her on the neck, he just didn’t get skin. All he got was a mouthful of metal.

“Caylee, my god.”

I pull her towards me and her body falls into mine. I press my lips against hers. After a second or two of shock and confusion, she kisses back. I thought I lost her too. I thought she was gone.

It all disappears. I don’t notice the war going on around me, the fire that’s destroying Main Street, the horde of undead warriors that are quickly approaching. For those few seconds, all that matters is that Caylee Martinez’s lips are touching mine.

My eyes slowly open and I see hers doing the same, peering back at me. We pull away. Inch by inch, her angelic face comes into view. She’s still alive. We’re still in this.

“Noah, I stepped down on one of them. My ankle. It’s sprained or broken. I can’t stand on it. I can’t walk.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I’ll get you out of this.”

“Just help me up,” she whimpers. “I can still fight. We are not dying here. Not now, not like this.”

I wrap my arms around her and bring her to her feet. Who knew she’d be such a badass? In all the months that I wanted to talk to her but was too scared, I never in a million years dreamed this is who she’d be when faced with adversity.

I turn around to face the footsteps drawing closer and take my first swing. I aim for head level and watch the spiked balls slash through a couple throats. It sends them falling backwards into those coming in behind them. I jump up to kick another one in the chest and send her falling back as well.

They’re not taking me down without a fight. I swing again when the three of them come back for seconds. Blood cascades down their tailored suits in what seems to be an endless supply from their mangled throats. The spikes tear through them again, finishing the job. Three headless zombies fall to the ground before me. Their heads roll off somewhere in the shuffle, bodies twitching, jaws straining, still trying to feed for those final seconds before they go still.

Tyrone appears out of thin air with a flaming board from the dilapidated building behind us and torches the bodies. They go up in flames, forming a burning barrier in front of us.

It doesn’t work. The next batch step over them, catching on fire in the process. I hold my breath, wondering why I haven’t yet built up an immunity to the smell of burning flesh.

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