Hive by Griffin Hayes

Hive by Griffin Hayes

Author:Griffin Hayes [Hayes, Griffin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: End of the World, zombie apocalypse, zombie, apocalypse, post-apocalyptic
Publisher: Trebor Books
Published: 2012-01-18T23:00:00+00:00


-19-

Oleg, Glave and Sneak run in and gather behind us. Bron’s holding one of the doors open. Jinx and Ret are hightailing it down the hallway. There’s a Zee reaching for Ret, barely an arm’s length behind him. Jinx is the first one in, followed by Ret. Bron slams the door shut, but that Zee is too fast, and the next thing we know he’s inside. Ret doesn’t have a chance to turn around when the Zee crashes into him, sending them both tumbling.

I know right then and there that if I’m not fast enough, Ret’s going to die. I leap over a row of seats and come down with the Katana. If I put too much into the swing, the blade will slice right through the Zee’s flesh and into Ret. I pull up at the last moment. The sword’s edge enters the back of the Zee’s brain box and kisses the front of his skull. A millisecond from closing down on the back of Ret’s neck, it dies with its jaws wrenched open.

That’s the second time in less than ten minutes he’s nearly become Zee-steak, and I almost thank one of Oleg’s gods that nothing but a set of old chairs was in my way. I don’t know what I’d do without him. Ret takes my hand and I help him up. He’s heavier than I am, and my leg starts burning like I’m being branded with a hot iron poker. I grit my teeth and try not to let on I’m having trouble.

“Thank you.” He smiles, and I feel my cheeks flush. I’d lie to myself and say it’s because I feel like crap, but I suck at lying and I know the truth anyway. And besides, I can’t help thinking about rule number two: Mercs don’t date Mercs. Especially when you’re a woman in charge of a bunch of reprobates.

I turn away and slide the Katana into the sheath on my back. “If the tables were turned, you’d do the same.”

He nods, and he quickly turns and shoves the tip of his boot into the Zee’s prone torso, and it goes skidding into darkness.

I finally get a good look around us and my jaw nearly drops. The room we’re in is impressive. Rectangular. Hundred-foot ceiling. Rows of seats facing a screen that I’m willing to bet was once white, but is now torn and coated with grime. The seats are plush, and far more inviting than anything in my dump back in Sotercity.

Bron’s still holding the set of double doors closed. “Ret, you ungrateful bastard,” he says. “Pennies would have eaten you for dinner if Bron hadn’t saved your scrawny ass.”

Oh boy. Bron’s talking in the third person again. He needs a lot of reassurance, and maybe under different circumstances I’d be happy to give it to him. But now is not the time.

Outside, the Zees are kicking up a racket throwing themselves against the doors. We’re lucky those doors open outward, or we’d have a hell of a time keeping them shut.



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