Life Among The Dead (Book 2): A Castle Made of Sand by Cotton Daniel

Author:Cotton, Daniel [Cotton, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: undead, epic, ghouls, series, survival, postapocalyptic, zombie, suspense, dark humor, living dead, walking dead, apocalypse, Horror, Thriller
Publisher: Permuted Press
Published: 2014-05-29T04:00:00+00:00

6

Dustin waited in solitude long after the gunfire and screaming had stopped and was replaced by moaning. He has no idea how many days he’s been locked within his fortress, but time is irrelevant. Subsisting on MREs for days, possibly weeks, a new sound draws him to the window he has been avoiding. A crash. Dustin hears the distinct noise of metal on metal and the roar of a large engine.

A cautious peek at the outside world he no longer feels apart of reveals a deuce and a half--a M35 6x6 as Deatherage had called it--careening out of the motor pool. The olive truck is heading towards the front gates and the dead are following. This could be my chance if I can grab my car and join them.

Dustin knows his car is behind the garage the survivors have just hastily exited. All civilian transports were put there for storage since the civies weren’t allowed to drive on post.

Armed with the whisper quiet revolver and an assault rifle, he tries to be brave, to boldly race across the asphalt plane, but he can’t do it. The folks making their escape aren’t so hesitant, and he can hear the reports of their guns.

It takes several moments before he feels courageous enough to make a run for it, though he has already missed his chance to join the others. He hasn’t seen a corpse since the ones that followed the fleeing folks. He wonders if they had all pursued the truck off base. Dustin sprints for the motor pool after several preparatory breaths. He aims to grab the Camaro and bring it back to the armory for supplies.

The rockstar purple car is a sight for sore eyes, and an even greater sight are the keys that are still in the ignition. He makes his way back to the armory unfettered, not a dead menace in sight.

As fast as he can, he loads his car with packages of food and rifles, and he tosses crates of grenades and claymores into his trunk. The curved explosive devices scare him upon inspection, and written on them in raised lettering are the words: FRONT TOWARD ENEMY.

Screaming and gunfire from the civilian sector draws his attention and tells him that not all the zombies have departed. Dustin can see folks running beyond the chain-link that divides the base; he can also see the mob of figures on their heels. From this distance they look small, like action figures. He tries to equate them as such as he slides behind the wheel; he has the means to save them, just not the fortitude. So he leaves them behind to fend for themselves, because there’s somewhere he wishes to be. Though his gig has come and gone months ago, he figures it can’t hurt to at least see the venue. What else do I have going on?

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