Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 5): Wrath Read Online Free

I’m not. I’m also a little surprised we haven’t heard any radio traffic from the safe house walkie. I had hoped that we would’ve gotten word from someone, but alas, silence.
    After dinner I got up and turned off the music. We’ve all gotten into the ritual of listening to cd’s and itunes or whatever while we eat. We try to keep the music low key, and relaxing. It’s weird I know, but it works for us.
    Me turning off the music was enough of a sign that something was up that I didn’t need to quiet everyone. It just so happened that everyone was at the table in Hall E tonight too, which made it easier. Gilbert was just wrapping up eating his last few bites of the quiche thing we had when I sat back down to speak my peace.
    I told them I needed them to do something for me, and that I needed them to trust me. Everyone nodded, and I remember now that Abby reached across the table and took Gavin’s hand. She knew what I was about to say already, and I think she wanted some grounding in Gavin. He looked at her and smiled.  
    I told them about my dream of Doug. I told them all about his family, and where he said they went, and I plainly told them I thought it was real. After the dream I had about Cassie, and the weirdness of how we only seem to be dreaming of the dead, everyone seemed to understand where I was coming from. I didn’t have to fight hard to convince them.  
    From there I asked them if they could check on them tomorrow, and see if I was crazy. The house is a little off the beaten track from where we’ve been thus far, but it should be fairly good. If they announce themselves, and tell them our story, I think we’ll be okay.
    We agreed that first thing tomorrow, Abby, Patty, Gilbert and Gavin would visit the Manning family at 114 Park Street. No one put up a fight about it. After that, we all did what we normally do after dinner, which ranges from go to bed, to watch a movie, to write on our laptops talking to a fictional person.
    Gilbert hooked my arm just I as I was about to retire up here to write this. He looked me straight in the eye, and said this to me, “Adrian, I don’t doubt for a second that we’ll find that wife and those two girls tomorrow at that house. I have a feeling you’re seeing a truth that the rest of us aren’t meant to. But son, what’re we gonna do if they’re there like your dream friend said? That’s three more mouths to feed. And two that can’t work? Shit son, you just shot their father. How do you think they’re gonna receive us? Right now we look a lot less like help, and a lot more like we’re coming back to finish the job.”
    He shook his head, let go of my arm, and walked away.
    He’s right of course. Once again I could be sending my friends to their death tomorrow by asking them to do this.  

    But really Mr. Journal, how will that be any different than any other day around here?

    -Adrian

Providence

    Tap tap tap.
    With her eyes fused shut Michelle flinched from the gentle finger tapping at her bare shoulder. She knew who it was, and she knew what it meant. Every day for Michelle began the same way. Even if she swore to the ends of the Earth when she lay her head down that she would wake up earlier to avoid his touch, he always woke her up a moment before she would’ve herself. It was uncanny.
    A bloody dead boy was her alarm clock now, and the toll of his dawn bell was three gentle taps. Every day it took her several seconds to build up the courage in the chill of the morning to open her eyes and look his dead face. Despite being stone cold dead and having his left arm torn completely off at the shoulder, he always smiled at her, especially when he woke her. He’d only been ten years old at most when he died. His yellow teeth bared in an awkward rictus, she fought every day to smile back. It was hard to dredge up anything other than revulsion when she saw his pale white eyes set in sunken sockets.
    It was often cold in Africa at dawn. People who had