When the Dead Rise (Book 1): The Beginning Read Online Free Page A

they scrambled for cars and SUV's while others stood on top of the vehicles shooting into the horde.
    Cliff watched as one of his fellow zombies took a bullet in the chest, stagger one step back from the force of the gunshot, before regaining his balance and pressing forward once again. A second shot rang out and the zombie who'd taken the chest shot crumpled to the ground. Cliff couldn't help but stare at the gaping hole where his eye should have been. He shuddered. Would his life end in a similar fashion? He prayed that if it did, he wouldn't see the bullet coming.
    By the time Cliff reached the small grouping of vehicles, those who'd lived only minutes before had already joined the undead. Hunger gnawed in his gut and the craving for the warmth of living flesh overwhelmed Cliff as he stumbled forward. He thought back to the man in the lab - the first person he'd killed. He remembered the numbness he'd felt when first waking, the feeling of the flesh as he chewed it between his teeth, and the satisfying warmth as it filled his belly.
    A small whisper of sound reached Cliff's ears and he spun, trying to find the source of it. The horde continued to move forward, bumping and jostling Cliff as he searched, unwilling to alert the others of the living flesh nearby. He caught sight of movement between the homes, the milkyness of his vision blotting out all color. Excitement filled him and he couldn't control his shuffling feet as he moved silently between the buildings.
    Cliff stood scanning the yards, patiently waiting for whatever he'd seen to move again but saw nothing. He was about to return to the zombie parade when the shifting of gravel caught his attention. The building beside him had a large wooden structure protruding from its rear - Cliff couldn't remember what he would have called it when he'd still been alive; he thought hard for a moment but the word escaped him. The noise came again; just a small shift in the stones from beneath the wooden thing. Cliff made his way around, clumsily avoiding the corner, until he spotted a portion of the crisscrossing cover moved aside.
    He dropped to his knees, trying to see into the darkness with little luck. He slithered into the dark space knowing he'd eventually find what he was seeking. Then he heard it, the muffled panting of one of the living. He struggled over the hard little things beneath him, no longer concerned with the loss of the word he'd understood moments before - he wanted flesh, he needed flesh; warm flesh that would give him life.
    He scrabbled forward, searching for his prey in the darkness until his hand closed around a foot and the person shrieked, kicking him squarely in his face. He heard a crunch of ... but he couldn't remember what the solid structure beneath the skin on his face was called - he didn't care because he finally had his hand around the warmth he'd become desperate for. The foot he held tried to shake free, but he wasn't going to let go so easily. This is what he'd been searching for; this is what he'd needed. There was a crack of the barrier behind the living, followed by a flood of light and the living scrambled out of the new hole, dragging him behind, still attached to the thing that kicked him.
    This was his! Excitement grew into frenzy as he clawed at the living, pulling it closer.
    It almost shook him free as it struggled to stand upright, but he wasn't going to let it go so quickly. He grabbed the other thing as it tried to kick out, once again towards his head - where he lived. It stumbled and fell. Already, that feeling of being alive began to fill him as he dragged the squirming thing towards him. He bit into the warm flesh just above where he gripped it. A leg maybe? But he no longer cared what the name for the flesh was - it was warm and that's what mattered. There was a howl of pain; a concept he no longer cared about -something which had been from another life he no longer remembered. He bit in again savouring the snap as the