LZR-1143: Infection Read Online Free

LZR-1143: Infection
Book: LZR-1143: Infection Read Online Free
Author: Bryan James
Tags: Zombies
Pages:
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pressing down on the still-twitching shoulders of A-team.
    “Fuck. That.”
    Conan looked up, dull glazed eyes searching slowly for the source of the distraction.
    Had I said that?
    Shit. That was genius. I ducked my head and cowered behind the nurse’s station, hoping that I had hidden myself quickly enough. Fearful and confused, I listened intently for the sounds of a shuffling approach.
    Then a moan and the sound of sniffling, like the thing had a cold. Then nothing. Could these things smell? Like a dog? For several long seconds I waited, holding my breath. I knew that if I moved, if I even twitched, I’d meet the same fate. My neck itched suddenly, anticipating dull incisors pressing into my arteries.
    Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I heard the horrific sound of Conan returning to his meal. Like a large dog gnawing blissfully on a bone, the gruesome sounds of flesh being sloppily pushed into an open mouth reached my ears clearly. The blood pooled across the floor, and I stared at its spreading stain as it intruded into my space, making its way toward me under the desk. There was so much blood.
    My head split in two, fire from inside cracking my skull like a hammer blow to the forehead. Pain ripped through my consciousness.
    Maria’s face was suddenly before me, her mouth and eyes bearing the vacuous look of that thing on the other side of the desk, as she leaned toward me in a crude semblance of a lover’s embrace. My hand was on something: a flashlight dropped under the desk. How did I miss that?
    I was on my feet, and in the distant clouded vision of my mind’s eye, I saw that I had been discovered. Maria’s ID badge, still fashioned to her lapel, flashed in front of my eyes. Her eyes, unblinking, stared at me with no light of recognition as she came for me. The flashlight came up. The face I no longer recognized disappeared in an explosion of color. It was suddenly dark, and I was alone.
    Again.

    Chapter 3

    The words on her badge were stenciled into my awareness as I struggled against the darkness. Starling Mountain. For the second time in the last two hours, I woke up. This time, I was sprawled in a pool of blackened, sticky blood, with the name of Maria’s employer barely and inexplicably beating out a crushing headache for dominance of my skull.
    I hadn’t been out long. Light still streamed across the floor, casting shadows against the far wall and highlighting my unique predicament.
    Conan lay atop my legs, his massive, crumpled torso trapping my feet, his head laying inert against the cool tile of the floor. A large flashlight was on the floor next to my hand, slick with blood and other matter.
    I gently probed my head, feeling through my overgrown hair for contusions or bumps that would explain my nap, but I discovered nothing. I looked back down at Conan, slowly and laboriously removed a foot from beneath his massive chest, and rolled his weight off of my legs.
    As the body flopped to the floor, the head pivoted to the side, allowing a glimpse of the trauma that had felled this tree of a man. He bore a massive head wound on the left side of the head.
    This was too much. I must have blacked out when he attacked me, either from fear or exhaustion, or both, but still managed to hit him hard enough to drop him. But why did I remember seeing Maria’s face? A voice that lived in a foggy corner of my mind was whispering to me, but I suppressed it.
    Even if the voice was right, and I was imagining everything, even if this wasn’t real, even if, as I lay here, feeling the pain, staring at the blood, I was in my cot, back in my room, doped up on meds, I lost nothing by surviving the hallucination. I lost everything if it was real, and I did nothing. I shook my head.
    Escape first, existentialism later.
    Rising slowly and shakily to my feet, I stuck the flashlight into the pocket of my standard-issue scrubs, and moved to the doors leading to the exit hallway. I was dizzier than a drunken sailor
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