The Virophage Chronicles (Book 1): Dead Hemisphere by Landeck R.B

Author:Landeck, R.B. [Landeck, R.B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombies | Infected
Published: 2020-01-20T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

At first, he barely heard the thunderous thwacks that erupted from just ahead. His mind had turned inward and gone to a place where the world outside no longer mattered. But now, like hammers against the outside of a vault, the noise became louder and louder with each round that exploded near him. Through half-open eyes, he could see a fountainous display of dead flesh and limbs, of coagulated blood, brains, and guts, erupting into the air as bodies disintegrated into black mist.

The grappling hands he had felt on his body went limp or disappeared altogether along with their dead owners. A jolt of energy shot through him, and like waking from a falling dream, he sat up with eyes wide. He gasped. In front of him, the injured woman, the old man, and his grandson were all covering their faces, rolling on the hood to escape the carnage that had suddenly engulfed their drowning island of safety.

Through the mist of body fluids, Amadou could only just make out Tom’s silhouette atop the APC, a mere few yards across from their refuge of metal and grime. He was barely controlling the .50cal pointed squarely in their direction and pumping out round after heavy round in mechanical thunder, each projectile smashing into and through whatever it hit, blasting anything and everything into the past, to hell, or wherever.

Tom grinned and roared as his eyes met Amadou’s with all the assurance of a madman caught in a last stand. After an eternity of gun-powered violence, Tom suddenly dropped the handles, and the weapon slumped forward, a long white plume of smoke emanating from its barrel. He briefly inspected his handiwork and watched as the survivors carefully lifted their heads and looked incredulously at what had become of the immediate vicinity.

A cordon of at least ten yards had been cleared around the front of the truck, which now sagged forward, neither its tires nor its suspension having escaped the .50cal’s onslaught. As if a giant bucket of human remains had been dropped from great height, the truck’s front and every inch of surface around them was covered, splattered with bits and pieces of dozens of bodies. Some cut in half, other limbless, a few remaining carcasses still snapped at thing air, pulling themselves through the slime and over the chunks of what moments ago had still been their shambling comrades.

Wiping their eyes clean from the dark blood, the survivors looked ghostlike as they stared back at Tom. He jumped down and, nearly slipping in the human slush below, staggered back to the truck and reached up to them. Time was of the essence.

“You better get moving. This may have bought us a few seconds, but they’re already on the move again.”

Amadou could see he was right. No sooner had the weapon fallen silent and the air cleared, did the mass of dead, now additionally motivated by the commotion, robotically resume their unrelenting assault and this time in even greater numbers. Helping the

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