Stranded Series (Book 5): Into The Gulf by Gray W.S

Author:Gray, W.S. [Gray, W.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Publisher: William Gray Entertainment Media
Published: 2020-02-15T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

He woke up.

Something had startled Trey awake.

Blinking, he slid back the green fabric cover the acted as his barrier to the outside world. Trey yawned. He glanced around, squinting, trying to see through the poor light cast by the little lamps set into the metal walls.

Trey jumped when he heard a loud BANG! from somewhere nearby. His heart skipping a beat, he glanced around, trying to determine where the noise had come from. When he noticed a skinny, shirtless man with a crude tattoo of an anchor in faint blue ink on one bony shoulder standing in front of one of the white lockers nearby, Trey smiled and began sliding back his cover. He wanted to return to his slumber. It’d been a while since he’d gotten any sleep, and Trey didn’t want to let anything ruin the opportunity any more than he had to.

However, as he closed his eyes, something clicked. That’s my locker, Trey thought. He jumped down from his bunk, cursing as he hit his head on the low, metal top of the bed. Landing on the floor awkwardly with a loud thud, he held up one hand to gingerly touch the painful bump on his noggin while he tried to re-orient himself. What was I doing…

Seeing the emaciated figure turn around, Trey recalled in an instant why he’d decided to so abruptly hop down from the relative comfort of his small bunk. “That’s my locker,” he said. Then Trey shook his head. Of course, this motherfucker doesn’t understand me, he thought. “Dad?” Trey called out, trying to conceal the panic in his tone. He didn’t want to give the guy anything.

However, the man advanced. His rigid body posture and the menacing glint in his tired green eyes communicated clearly his intent. One didn’t need to translate malice. It poured out of every pore in the creature’s body. He exuded the foul, inimical emotion. With his clenched fists and tightened jaws, his thin, angry frown slicing across his stern face, the scoundrel-soldier appeared more than ready for a fight.

“Dad!” Trey said again, adding some urgency to his tone.

Not wanting to waste time or divert his attention by lifting his thin bed and rifling through the compartments underneath, Trey scoured the room for any sign of a possible weapon. As he did so, he became aware of the collective stare of the small area. Trey ignored that. If he got his ass kicked, it didn’t much matter if it were in secret or witnessed by a crowd.

As the man lunged forward, Trey took a step back. He delivered a swift upper-cut to the guy’s face. It hurt his hand. He felt the impact of the blow as it was absorbed through his wrist and arm. Trey didn’t wait to see what effect his strike had on the aggressor, however.

He needed to seize the initiative.

Taking the attacker’s head with both hands, Trey kept his eyes out for the guy’s hands. He maneuvered the figure backward a bit as he tried to think of what he should do.

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