Duality (The Hitchhiker Strain) Read Free Page A

delicious aroma of coffee could lead me by the nose to where I need to go. I’m about to stop and ask for directions when I catch the stilted sound of raised voices coming from a few rooms to my left.
    Usually, I might have slowed down as I walked by to catch as much information as I could without technically spying on anyone, but I recognize one of the voices. It’s Cole’s dad, Craig Silvers, and he sounds royally pissed off.
    I can ’t help myself; I move in a little closer. Technically I’m supposed to be getting him anyways, right? And I can always pretend not to have heard anything. I inch toward the room, casually pressing myself against the wall so as not to be seen through the slightly ajar door.
    Coffee will have to wait.

Chapter 3 - Chelsea
     
    I’m ambling down an abandoned suburban street—they’re all abandoned now—when the feeder comes out of nowhere, shoving my body to the ground in a frenzy of hunger and instinct. The corpse is half decayed, its clothes in tatters and with a few remaining clumps of stringy hair, but still strong. So strong. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t have enough sense left to tell the difference between me and a defenseless human.
    I ’m strong too.
    The same infection that gives the feeders their strength fuels me, supercharging my muscles and pushing my survival instincts to the forefront of m y mind. But there’s one crucial difference: I survived the infection. My body is intact, powerful, and equally as driven as the undead who attack without thought. They are the true zombies.
    I am a hunter .
    I ’m on my feet again before the fumbling corpse knows what’s happening. He lets out a disgruntled groan before lunging again, his one remaining eye constantly following my movements. His fingers latch on to my side, digging the stubs that were his fingers into my skin—the term death grip comes to mind—before attempting to fling me to the ground once more. Angling my body toward him, I kick out, loosening his hold slightly, but it’s enough to get free.
    There ’s a brief moment before he charges again. Like all the others who came before him, the attacks are as repetitive as clockwork, never taking time to formulate a strategy. But I don’t need a plan either. Not anymore. I could do this in my sleep. If it weren’t for the beast pushing at the back of my mind to end this quickly and move on to something edible, this might even be fun.
    I dodge out of the way at the last moment, leaving my right leg in his path, sending the gruesome being face first onto the sidewalk. With a satisfying squish, my boot sinks into skull, splintering weakened bone with a fatal blow to the brain. My opponent stops struggling immediately and the rush of victory courses through my every cell. I live for the kill now. This is my Christmas, my birthday, and my prom all wrapped up into one glorious moment.
    I take a mo ment to catch my breath, letting my heartbeat settle back to its normal rhythm. It’s a struggle to remember what it was I was trying to do before the attack. Where was I headed? I’m not especially hungry, but I don’t remember eating. Still, I could always eat again. Yes, ten minutes to recover and then I’ll hunt.
    Who says Christmas can ’t come twice in one day?
    It ’s when the adrenaline starts to leave my body that I notice the throbbing pain coming from one of my arms. Something isn’t right, but it takes me nearly a minute to fit all the pieces together. The bastard bit me! I’ve been steadily oozing blood for at least five minutes and didn’t even notice.
    How didn’t I notice this? How did I not feel his teeth tear into my skin?
    I am such an idiot . I had every advantage, and I still let him take out a chunk of my skin.
    Now that I ’ve noticed it, I have no trouble feeling it. My arm is screaming in agony from the bite.
    Could this kill me?
    No. I won’t let it. My head feels suddenly clear as I assess the injury. I need to think this through. Be