Better Lucky than Good (Records of the Resistance) Read Online Free Page B

whom had been the first to permanently fall, was partially obscured from view by the tall vegetation growing in the ditch. Only her legs were exposed in plain sight, which were now protruding out onto the road. The second to fall was the man laying face down at Clay's feet, who now laid in a pool of his own blood where the gravel met the grass. The third man who was also face down, lay at Melanie's feet with a tomahawk protruding from the top of his head. His arm still curled around Melanie's leg in a way that a passerby might mistake him as having begged for mercy in the moment before his death. Everything was quiet and still; at least for a moment. A moment which was short lived, as Melanie tore her leg from the grasp of the dead man and began to resume her attack. Her renewed rage was being further exacerbated by her emotions. The man's limp body jolted with the impact of every kick and strike from the gun stock. Clay slowly began his approach towards Melanie and as he did so, her anger began shifting toward tears. Clay placed his hand over the trigger guard of the shotgun while Melanie was in mid stroke. She tried to jerk the shotgun back from Clay's grasp but her arms no longer possessed the strength. The spent energy of her failed attempt at escaping the city, coupled with her adrenaline dump, had sapped away all of her energy.

    "The gun has a rubber recoil pad... It doesn't make for much of a skull cracker." Clay gently explained.

    Melanie finally released her grasp on the shotgun and slumped down onto the road, sobbing with her knees pulled into her chest.  

    "I knew him. He worked at the grocery store." she cried.

    "He was a nice man... Those fucking assholes..." she continued to speak while trying to regain her composure.

    Clay was taken aback by her statement.

    "Those fucking assholes? Who?" he inquired.

    "The ones who..." Melanie began to explain, but was interrupted by the echo of a gunshot in the distance. Then another, and another. The night which only a moment ago was entirely silent, began to light up with life in the form of a hail of gunfire.  

    "That sounds like it's coming from the farmhouse! Come on!" Melanie said, as she jumped to her feet and took off down the road as fast as her flip-flop adorned feet could carry her.

    "Oh fuck... Melanie, WAIT!" Clay shouted, knowing full well that his request would go unheeded.

    He picked up his dry bag and threw it over his shoulder. After jerking his tomahawk free from the dead man's skull and slipping it into its leather loop, he took off after Melanie. Although unable to overtake her, he was able to match her pace, even while loaded down as he was by the weight of his equipment. Melanie continued down the road until reaching a break in the cornfield to her right. There, was a long dirt road leading up a hill, which she struggled to negotiate in footwear more suited for the beach than for uneven terrain. Melanie continued determinedly up the hill until finally reaching its crest. The moment that she looked down onto the farm house, she was instantly reminded of the day the infected had started to turn, all over again. She could hear screams and gunfire. More gunfire and yelling. She could hear David's voice as he was desperately attempting to coordinate a defence. She was only a hundred yards away from the house, but she may as well have been in the midst of the battle. By the time that Clay had caught up to her, he was severely winded. However, even though catching his breath, he could still comprehend what was unfolding before his eyes. Clay straightened himself up and put a hand on Melanie's shoulder, whose own were covering her gaping mouth. Her breath quivered as she exhaled, while she struggled to stifle the urge to either scream in heart-broken agony or call out to her companions.  

    The side of the house to the left of the front door was burning on the second floor. Clay could see the reflection of the fire's light in the tears running down