Undead Rain (Book 2): Storm Read Online Free

there. The streets of the city were deadly.
    But I couldn’t stay here and wait to be discovered by the soldiers who had invaded the beach. Besides, the tide was coming in and I was already wet and cold.  
    I walked over the steps but hesitated. The fog had disappeared. Any advantage it might have given me was gone. It was a sunny morning, which meant the zombies would be roaming the streets. I hadn’t wanted this.   Why hadn’t I listened to Lucy and stayed aboard The Big Easy ?
    Wondering how many more dumb decisions I was going to make and if any of them were going to cost me my life, I put my boot on the first step and wrapped my fingers around the cold metal handrail.  
    As slow as a man walking to the gas chamber, I went up to the city.

five
    By the time I got to the top of the steps, the sky had cleared and the sun was beating down, making steam rise from my wet clothes. I cast a nervous glance around. An overgrown grassy area in front of me led to a coastal road that wound around the cliff tops. Across the road, a row of three-storey houses, some of which had been made into inns, looked empty.  
    I crawled into the grass, my head turning left and right as I tried to take in all of my surroundings. The noises from the soldiers at the marina were faint now. I could hear far away shambling sounds, which I was sure must be zombies coming out of hiding but I couldn’t tell how many there were or their location.  
    I felt exposed out here in the grass, vulnerable. Across the road, a number of cars were parked outside the houses. If I could get a vehicle, I would feel safer. I could leave the city, drive somewhere remote and decide what to do next. I couldn’t make any decisions while I was in danger of being killed by a herd of nasties or thrown into a Survivors Camp by the army. I couldn’t think of anything except my immediate self-preservation.
    I ran across the road, keeping low, and rested between two parked cars. Logic told me that if the cars were parked here outside their owners’ homes, the car keys were somewhere in the houses.  
    Along with the owners. Alive or dead. Either way, they were a danger to me.
    The house closest to me had a wooden porch painted in flaking eggshell blue paint. The sun and salty air had taken their toll on the house’s exterior, eating at the wooden window frames and fading the paint until it looked like a sun-bleached skull covered in flaking pieces of bone.
    I broke cover and went up the steps to the porch. It creaked beneath my boots. The front door was made of wood painted in the same pale blue and had two panels of frosted glass running down each side. I put my hand on the rusted metal handle and tried the door.
    Locked.
    Using the tip of the baseball bat, I broke the pane of glass nearest the handle and reached inside, hoping the key was in the lock. If not, I would have to try another house.  
    My searching fingers found a bunch of keys hanging from the lock. I felt for the key that was in the door, found it and turned it. The lock clicked and the door opened.
    I stepped inside, glad to be off the street. But the stench that hit me made me wonder if I was safer outside.  
    The smell of rancid meat hung in the air.  
    Trying not to puke, I readied the bat and made a quick assessment of the place. The hallway and stairs were covered in thick grass-green carpet. The wallpaper was pale lime. Someone sure liked green.
    Was that someone still here?
    To my left, an open doorway revealed a living room. There was a TV and leather furniture in there but no movement. Ahead of me, a doorway led to the kitchen. I could see a small white microwave sitting on the counter but the rest of the room was out of sight. I could hear the high-pitched buzzing of a swarm of flies in there.  
    I crept forward slowly, the plush carpet muffling my footsteps.
    I peered around the edge of the doorway. There was nothing in there except an oven, dishwasher and a sink full of dirty dishes. The