I Am Alive (The Meteora Trilogy Book 2) by Evelyn Shepherd

Author:Evelyn Shepherd
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: LGBT, Futuristic, Zombie Apocalypse, Urban Fantasy
ISBN: 9781623008062
Publisher: Loose Id LLC
Published: 2014-04-27T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Dr. Wittenberg looked at me as I ran into the lab. His eyes were wild with panic as he white-knuckled the scalpel he held. He dropped it and took a step back from the thrashing Infected, who was strapped down to an operation table. The Infected’s ribs had been cracked open, revealing fetid organs. The other Infected was strapped to the table beside the first, struggling against its leather bindings.

“What are you doing?” I asked, for a moment forgetting the bedlam outside. I shook my head. It didn’t matter what he was doing. What mattered was getting Dr. Wittenberg to safety and finding General Faust. “We have to get out of here. Infected and Mutated have broken through the walls.”

“Impossible,” Dr. Wittenberg gasped, as if brick and metal could restrain hell.

“No, it’s very possible, and it’s happening right now. So move your ass,” I said as I grabbed his arm and hauled him toward the door. “Where is General Faust?”

“He heard commotion and went to check on it,” Dr. Wittenberg replied, for a moment letting me drag him, but then he gathered his senses and pulled his arm away. “What do you mean, Infected got in?”

“Exactly how it sounds,” I said as I exited the exam room and the hospital, Dr. Wittenberg following me. We left the Infected strapped to the tables. I tried not to think about how the Infected could never escape. They’d rot there until their bodies finally gave out.

I climbed into the Jeep. Why didn’t General Faust take this? He had grabbed one of the guns. Maybe he’d left the Jeep for Dr. Wittenberg. I snatched the shotgun he’d left behind and passed it to Dr. Wittenberg. “Can you shoot?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Don’t waste the bullets,” I said. I checked the gas tank and started the Jeep. The tarp was still in the rear. A few hours ago, we had collected Infected. Not even an hour ago, I had been making love to Sawyer. Now hell had risen.

We sped down the road. The Infected were spread over everything like locusts. They devoured whatever their deadly hands could get a hold of. I kept my focus on the road. We passed by men and women, by children running for their lives. My gut twisted. So many people needed help. I wasn’t Superman, though. I couldn’t save everyone. I could only save those I loved.

Did that make me a monster?

Was I as bad as the bogeyman who haunted us?

“Over there!” Dr. Wittenberg shouted.

I glanced to where he pointed. General Faust was caught in the fray, not too far from an abandoned car. He was outnumbered and armed with only a machete, but he wouldn’t bow. Not to them. Not ever.

“Hold on,” I warned before I set the Jeep careening toward General Faust.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins like a stampede of mustangs. When the horde of Infected was close, I yanked sharply on the wheel and pulled on the emergency brake. The tires squealed as they slid across the asphalt, and smoke rose in a thick cloud.

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