The Dead Saga (Book 3): Odium III by Riley Claire C

Author:Riley, Claire C. [Riley, Claire C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombies
Publisher: Breakwater Harbor Books
Published: 2015-03-21T04:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE.

We were back on the road again, the journey to the base seeming a long and futile one. The rain lashed down on the windows, making the roads muddy and the truck skid from side to side every now and then on rotten, sodden leaves. We drove slow, keeping the speed down, meaning we got to take more of the scenery in than we usually would.

Normally it was just a blur of trees and road, with broken vehicles and dead bodies littered across the blacktop. I avoided looking too closely; it was the same shit I had seen for the past couple of years, and I had no time for reliving that. But driving slowly, you got a true sense of not just the destruction, but the beauty hidden beneath. Below the devastation, nature was trying to flourish. It was a beautiful, heartbreaking thing, that even with all the death in this world, something was thriving. Something was thriving. I hated that it gave me hope for the future.

Would mankind ever rule this earth again? I doubted it. There would always be death, and I don’t mean your grandpa dying at the ripe old age of seventy-eight. I mean, there would always be a zombie somewhere. There would always be one hiding somewhere, and people would always die, their bodies reanimating into a walking nightmare. I had heard enough about fake cures, and had given up on all that shit a long time ago. As long as people walked the earth, so would zombies. But to see nature still growing, still surviving, that definitely made me reconsider if there was hope for any of us. Because if Mother Nature could thrive after everything that had happened, then maybe we could to.

“You ready?” Michael asked, his voice thick with irritation.

“Always,” I replied, winding my window down and holding my gun out of it ready to shoot any crazies that jumped out at us.

We were at the worst part of the journey: “the road of the damned,” as Michael had named it. Anything could and likely would happen there, apparently, and Michael and Melanie had filled me in on enough horror stories of some of the shit these people had pulled to last me a lifetime. Apparently they would do anything to get a passing vehicle to stop, including throwing women and children into the road and to their deaths, or like what happened on our way to the mall—barraging us with rocks from above. The windshield had a large crack in it just to prove it. That was just another reason I didn’t want to continue making the journey anymore: those people were crazy, and so far, their level of crazy hadn’t paid off, but sooner or later it would. Sooner or later they would get lucky, and us not so much. Or sooner or later we would have to do something about them. Neither option rested easily on me.

Michael stepped on the gas, making the truck lurch forward and simultaneously slide to the side.

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