Catching Red Read Free Page A

of the church. The clothes that fit her wouldn’t fit anyone else.
    She tied the drawstring under the hood of her sweatshirt in a belated attempt to salvage body heat. Her breath came out white. At this temperature, each movement consumed too much energy. Her wool gloves weren’t warm enough to keep her fingers from becoming sluggish. A storm was coming, and it was coming soon.
    Someone had cut a panel through the chain-link fence. Judging from the multitude of vines snaking through, the first break-in happened years before now. The foliage’s pattern of disturbance suggested many others had started their journey here.
    She pulled the rusted metal back and frowned. After fifty years of dereliction, the area was overgrown with trees, weeds, and vines. But there was a fresh path leading straight to the closest window.
    After maneuvering past the fence, she bent down to inspect the damaged plants. They had been hacked clean by a large blade, and there was no sign of regrowth. Whoever had come before her made the trip recently.
    A few undead roamed the fenced-in area. Since their movements were random and wouldn’t intersect her path, she left them alone. Most humans made the mistake of either fighting or fleeing from these creatures. Missing limbs and covered in gashes that oozed black, viscous blood, their appearance was the substance of nightmares. Coupled with a light gray pallor, clouded eyes, and worn yellow teeth, these monsters signaled imminent danger.
    But in the open they were less dangerous than a wild animal. Blind and slow, they could be heard from a distance and easily avoided. Confrontation risked injury, and blood was a surefire way to draw a swarm. In isolation, they could be disposed of. As a group, they were the predators that had almost wiped out the human race.
    She approached the broken window. Dust had settled over the sill. It bore two palm-shaped imprints. She paused and listened. The sounds of tearing flesh and frenzied undead would be hard to miss.
    She breathed a sigh of relief after hearing nothing but low growls and steady dragging footsteps. Whoever just came through must have died more than a few hours ago. She hoisted herself inside and immediately fell into a crouch. The undead were everywhere.
    No matter how many years passed, these walking corpses neither weakened nor decayed. Preserved in a state of perpetual low-energy motion, they moved forward until an obstacle altered their course. Only when something triggered the urge to feed would their movements become unpredictable.
    Blood riled them up even from a distance. Proximity to any human would yield the same response. Nomads covered up as much as possible and masked their scent with a mixture of herbs. Even then, no one could get within a few inches of an undead’s nose without being detected.
    Going into a building full of brain-eaters was suicide. Scarlet wasn’t strong or fast enough to fight more than a handful at once. Her scabbed-over wounds might reopen at any moment. A single drop of blood would draw dozens to her location within seconds.
    Her only chance at survival lay in patience and a level head. Even though the windows were covered in dust, light filtered in. She could see the monsters, but they couldn’t see her. As long as she stayed close to the ground, they wouldn’t smell her. If she was careful, they wouldn’t hear her. There was a slim possibility she could find what she needed and get out in one piece.
    She placed her gloved hands on the floor and crept forward. The cabinets in this room were open. Items were strewn everywhere. Whatever resources were once here were long gone.
    With growing trepidation, she roamed the first floor inch by torturous inch. She snaked her body to avoid falling feet and kept a wary distance from the few amputated undead crawling over the floor. It took an eternity to cover a distance she could walk in minutes. And her efforts didn’t yield a single bottle of medicine.
    She had