Hunger Chronicles (Book 1): Life Bites by Hilaire Tes

Author:Hilaire, Tes [Hilaire, Tes]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: vampires, dystopian, zombie, werewolves, post apocalypse, Military, Urban Fantasy
Published: 2013-06-16T04:00:00+00:00

21.

The heartbeat I hear is not John. It’s just the first of many heartbeats. I will not think about what this really means. Because John is not dead. He probably went the desert route, or these zombies did and he’s currently on one of those levels down below, working his way up on the backend of the beast.

Regardless, I have other things to worry about than John’s state of health, like, oh, how to keep my team alive. And they are my team, whether they like it or not.

I stack another crate against the side door, grab and pull another into place behind it and then work on a third level of barriers. I’m using the heaviest crates I can move. Hopefully that will be enough. The zombies are already throwing themselves at the door. Stupid, but human in their makeup, they’ll try to get through here first.

“How many are out there?” Brian demands as he pulls back on belt after belt of ammo and grenades that he’d taken off while resting.

I shake my head. “You don’t want to know.”

He eyes me balefully.

“Let’s just say that we’re thoroughly surrounded and leave it at that.”

As if he couldn’t tell that by the rattling sheet metal and the general symphony of moans. Matt and Rodriguez are already having a blast blowing away anything that sticks their nose in the slit between the sliding doors. We’re going to have quite a pile-up to drive over when Herbie gets that truck up and running. If Herbie gets that truck up and running.

Convict must be thinking the same thing because he asks, “How much longer there, Herbie?”

“Goddamn. I don’t know.” Herbie takes a two second break to pant and pull at his hair with his grease-stained hands. “Ten, fifteen minutes?”

Convict grunts and turns away so he doesn’t hear the muttered “if this works” that Herbie tacks on. Probably good no one but me heard that. It’s always better to have hope.

“Roy, Blaine, you help Eva push those crates against the walls. The more that’s between us and them the better.”

And so we start stacking the remaining crates along the walls. Convict helps too, and Brian joins us as soon as he’s got his last armament strapped on.

The entire building is rattling by the time we’re finished. Not from the wind, though that is a factor, but by the sheer pressure of zombies throwing themselves against the sheet metal. Convict was smart to suggest the crates. I don’t think the walls would be holding without the support.

“Things are getting a bit hairy up here.” Rodriguez calls from the front door. “Bullets are getting low. Zombies keep coming.”

I look down to see him slash his knife through the door, a spray of blood erupting over his head as it sinks into a zombie’s eye socket. Matt’s gun clicks and he reaches for his own knife.

Holy hell.

I race across the warehouse, yanking out my knife. “Back up! Wash that blood off. Now!”

One fuck up. One swipe across the

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