Transmission: Voodoo Plague Book 5 Read Online Free Page B

fitting way to go out.
    She didn’t know how long she stood in the water in the bed
of the truck after firing her pistol and ending his life.  It was a long time,
based on how high the sun had gotten in the sky.  Slowly coming out of her
shock, she looked around.  It was a beautiful day after the storm.  The air had
been scrubbed clean, the temperature down after all the rain.   It was deathly
quiet, the violent winds having denuded the countryside of all life. 
    Dog sat at the lip of the ditch, looking off into the
distance, watching over her as he patiently waited.  She forgot she’d left the
Bronco running, and it idled away, waiting as patiently as Dog.  Forcing
herself to move, Rachel stepped over the tailgate and started wading through
the water toward the earthen ramp.  She had only covered a few feet when she
stopped and turned to look back.
    Her rifle and pack were in the cab, next to Jackson’s body. 
The last thing in the world she wanted to do was go back down into the ditch
and climb into that cab, but the weapon and supplies meant a chance at
survival.  She knew she was extremely lucky to have survived this long, and
didn’t want to go on with only a pistol and the clothes on her back.
    Heaving a sigh, she holstered the pistol and trudged back
through the water, climbing over the tailgate again.  Reaching the back of the
cab, Rachel bent and looked through the window she had broken out.  Jackson sat
lifelessly in the driver’s seat, seat belt holding his corpse upright.  Her
pack was next to him, sitting in close to a foot of water.  Cautiously, she
reached into the cab.
     Rachel’s skin broke out in goose bumps as she extended her
arms into the space next to her dead friend.  She imagined him suddenly
reaching out and grabbing her in his iron grip.  Pulling her all the way into
the cab before tearing into her throat with his teeth.  Heart pounding, she forced
her body forward, grabbed the pack’s straps and yanked it through the opening. 
    Adrenaline gave her a boost of energy and the pack came
easily and quickly.  But, it was heavier than she remembered, and the fear-induced
adrenaline didn’t help her manage the weight when she straightened up and it
struck her in the stomach.  Rachel let out a whoosh of breath as she was
knocked onto her ass in the bed of the truck.  Sitting with the pack on her lap
she looked hard at the cab, but the body hadn’t moved.  It wasn’t coming after
her.
    “Stupid.”  She muttered to herself and spun up onto her
knees to see through the window.
    She couldn’t see her rifle, but knew it was in there.  It
must have slipped onto the floor and was under the muddy water.  The only way
she could retrieve it was to climb all the way into the cab and feel around in
the water.  Moving before her courage could falter, Rachel stood and slipped a
leg through the opening, gently placing her foot on the submerged seat. 
Quickly working her other leg through, she followed with her hips and splashed
onto the seat. 
    A quick check of Jackson, who thankfully still hadn’t moved,
and she started searching for the rifle.  It only took a moment to find, and
she was concerned when she lifted it and water started running out of every
opening.  Would it still fire?  Of course it would.  John had swum across a
lake with a rifle strapped to his body when he’d rescued Dog back in Georgia. 
But had he stopped to dry something out or clean something when he’d reached
the shore?  That she didn’t know.
    Steeling herself, Rachel squirmed through the window into
the open air.  With every movement, her skin crawled, expecting Jackson’s
corpse to suddenly reanimate and attack.  But it didn’t.  He was dead and
nothing was going to change that.  This wasn’t a cheesy TV show about zombies,
she reminded herself.  This was real, and nothing’s more real than death.
    Back at ground level, Rachel went to the rear of the Bronco
and lowered the gate.  As