Infected Bodies: Zombie Armageddon 3 by Woodhead Ian

Author:Woodhead, Ian [Woodhead, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-03-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Only two composers sprang to mind, then again, considering he only knew of two, Craig didn’t consider it all that surprising. So, was it Mozart or Beethoven? Then again, he didn’t care which dead guy had composed that song. He just wished Laurence would turn that blinking computer off.

The big goon had ordered him to stay by the door and keep watch as he explored the apartment. Ha! As if, he could stop a horde of dead people from stumbling in to get the goon. The first sight of one of those things and Craig was going to run in the other direction. He peeked through the door, the PC was right there, in front of him, just three paces away. The classical piece had re-started. Craig had to question the wisdom of why anyone would wish to hear this song on a loop.

He guessed the person who’d pressed the repeat button on the mp3 player would have been able to give him a valid reason. Craig would have asked him if he’d have been able to reply. The fellow was right there, sat in front of the computer. He turned back and closed his eyes, trying to force down the bile that threatened to fly out of Craig’s mouth.

The guy’s head wasn’t on his shoulders. Someone or something had ripped it off. The perpetrator and the head weren’t in the apartment. At least, that’s what Laurence had said, the last time he’d poked his head out. He groaned and hoped the goon would hurry up, Craig hated being alone. What was taking him so long? Craig still didn’t have a clue why he had gone in there; when he’d had asked that question, the goon had just laughed and shook his head.

The song started to play again.

There were two bloodied hand prints on the door opposite him, he’d seen a lot of blood on their way through the mill but those prints were right at the bottom of the door, he couldn’t see how they could have got there. Christ on a bike! He wished this fucking annoying music would stop.

He jumped at the sound of scratching wood; Craig slowly turned his head and saw the lifeless face of one of the dead things gazing through the window of the fire door. He gulped back a sob; he turned to see if Laurence was coming, when he looked again, the face had gone.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he murmured. Craig ran into the room. The headless man’s hand was still around the mouse. He grabbed the wire and pulled the mouse off the hand. The man’s arm fell off the table, almost toppling the corpse onto Craig. He jumped out of the way and used the mouse to mute that horrible music.

“Thank fuck for that,” he muttered.

Craig then discovered that the music had been camouflaging another noise. The sound of something wet being consumed. He spun around and saw one of the dead things crouched in the corner of the room.

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