Defensive Instinct (Survival Instinct Book 4) Read Online Free

if need be, and then taking them out with long, pointed objects. Sometimes it would take a few days, but other times the herd was small enough to take out in a couple of hours.
    Misha turned away from the yard. He picked up Barrel again and climbed down with him. Bullet immediately gave them a sniff check.
    “Looks like we have some time off,” Misha told the dogs. “Who wants to throw a ball?”
    He was answered by a trio of wagging tails.

2
Wycheck’s In Pain
     
    “Just a little farther. Just a little farther,” Wycheck kept whispering to himself, half the time so quietly that nothing came out. He dragged his right leg painfully behind him. He had escaped the zombies, but at what cost? His weapons were gone, his supplies were gone, his ribs were in all probability broken, and his leg definitely was. Every step was agony, but to stay still was to die. He knew there were living people around here somewhere. Not only had he seen evidence of it, but the soft white smoke of a cook fire drifted lazily up in the distance. Someone had to be there; he just had to reach it.
    It had been a stupid idea to come out here by himself, but he just had to get away on his own.  Jasmine had been harassing him again, insisting that they were meant for one another. Wycheck knew differently, seeing as how he couldn’t stand to be near her for more than a few minutes at a time. He hadn’t even told Evans where he was going, or even that he was going. Evans would have sent out a search party, or maybe he had the whole group looking. Wycheck just had to survive until they found him. Could be that the smoke was theirs. It wasn’t impossible.
    “Just a little farther. Just a little farther.”
    It felt like the smoke wasn’t getting any closer. Hauling his broken body forward a few inches at a time was getting him nowhere. There was no other option. He couldn’t call out for help: the zombies could be close. There was nothing he could see that could assist in transporting him, nothing with wheels that he could move on his own. Stumble-step, drag. Stumble-step, drag. It was the only way forward.
    Sweat poured off his body, soaking his already blood-soaked clothing. He fought and struggled for every motion, every forward movement. He was going to survive this. After everything he had been through, all the death and pain, all the suffering, he was going to survive. Nothing was going to break him.
    Wycheck didn’t get to hear the crack of the rifle or feel the sting of the bullet before it shut him down forever.

3
Abby’s Tired
     
    “Come on, Abby, it’s time to get up.”
    Abby groaned and rolled over, burying herself deeper beneath the warm blankets of her bed.
    “Up!”
    The blankets were ripped away, leaving Abby exposed to a cool draft. She gasped, her eyes cracking open while her body reflexively curled tighter. Lauren stood at the end of the bed, a cheeky smile on her face as she held the bundle of blankets.
    “Can’t I take the day off?” Abby sighed as she sat up.
    “No can do, Poker-roo.” Lauren dropped the bedding and proceeded to pick out clothes for Abby to wear.
    “You’re very chipper this morning.” Abby slid off the bed and began her morning stretching routine on the floor.
    “Not all of us can wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I’ll start breakfast.” Lauren disappeared from the room.
    Abby’s bladder became insistent before she was done with her workout. Taking a break, she gathered up her clothes and left their bedroom. After relieving herself and brushing her teeth, Abby finished her routine on the tiles, skipping only one exercise that required more space than the bathroom allowed. She then showered, towel dried her thin, sandy hair, and quickly got dressed.
    “Claire and Peter already up?” Abby commented on their open doors as she carried her pyjamas back to her bedroom.
    “I think Claire ended up spending the night with the farmers top side; her bed doesn’t look like it’s been slept