Dead Days (Book 1): Mike Read Online Free

little relieved.  I was half worried that he wasn’t dead after all, that he’d be up and about, ready for round two.
          I gingerly step past his corpse and into the kitchen. I see his van keys on a hook on the wall and put them in my pocket.  I take his first aid kit into the sitting room and dig out some antiseptic cream and a fresh bandage.  I go to take the cap off the tube of cream but I stop myself.  There is a splotch of Alan’s infected blood on it.  I throw it away instinctively.  I run across the hall into the bathroom to wash my hands and catch sight of myself in the mirror. 
     
    I start laughing, I can’t help it.  The entire left side of my face is covered in Alan’s blood.  I hadn’t remembered to wipe it off. 
     
    And I was scared of getting it on my fingers.  Ha!
     
    I try to remember if I’ve licked my lips since killing Alan and find I can’t remember.  I don’t think I’ve swallowed any blood but who knows?  I use one of Alan’s towels to wipe most of it off, then wash off the rest in the sink. There’s a bit in my hair but I get it out as best I can, the hairs near my temple are left with a reddish brown tint.
          I go back to the living room and finish bandaging my injury, sans antiseptic, and flick on Alan’s TV.  A news reporter, a middle-aged guy in shirt and tie is talking frantically into the camera.
    “-barely containing the situation, we’re hearing reports that people are being killed in the hundreds, that some of them are being partially-… partially eaten.  The police are trying to contain the situation as best they can but I don’t know how much longer they can hold out.  We saw an army helicopter overhead about twenty minutes ago but whether the military can be deployed in time to stop this- this virus is anyone’s guess.  I don’t know how long we can stay here but-  What?”
    The camera man is yelling and points out of shot.
    “Oh my God-”  The reporter falls backward as a larger man, mouth dripping blood barrels into him.  He sinks his teeth into the guys face and rips a chunk of flesh away as the reporter screams.  It’s so loud and high-pitched that it sounds almost feminine.  As he pulls frantically away, his face is caught in shot, and I can see his teeth and tongue through the hole in his torn cheek.  Then the camera falls and all I can see is the reporters legs drumming against the tarmac as the creature attacking him bowls him over.  The feed abruptly cuts back to the studio.
    The anchorwoman is close to tears, her hands are shaking as she tries to sort through papers.
    “We ah…seem to be experiencing technical difficulties… we are- are trying to find the locations of the aid stations being set up in the city centre….The underground is now closed and public transport is heavily disrupted so those of you trying to get home should…er…should go to…. I’m sorry I don’t…er…”  She touches her ear piece.  “We are now going live to a statement from the secretary for health, Peter Henshaw.”
     
    The screen cuts to a press conference and a small man with grey curly hair and an ill-fitting suit is gripping the lectern in front of him so hard he looks like he might snap it in two.  As he talks he sips frequently from a water glass beside him.
    “At present it appears that London and surrounding areas are in the grip of some kind of new and previously unheard of disease.  We believe it to be a new strain of rabies virus, that induces extreme and…homicidal aggression in those infected.”
    A storm of questions from the assembled press greets this statement;
    “Is it airborne-?”
    “Is it true that people are being eaten alive-?”
    “How are the government containing this-?”
    “Can they stop it-?”
    “Is there a cure-?”
    The secretary holds up his hands for silence.  The room quiets down until only the clicking of cameras can be heard.  “We believe that the virus is not air or