Infection Z (Book 4) Read Free Page A

the house, the little boy was gone.
    There was no blood on the window.

Chapter Three
    H ayden kept as quiet as he could as he approached the churchyard.
    It was a nice spot just outside a small town. One of those proper traditional churches—all grey brick and moss. The graveyard wasn’t bustling, either, but there was a sense that the headstones were gradually filling the land. Hayden thought about the concerns they must’ve had at the church. The worries about what to do when it just got too full.
    At least they didn’t have to worry about that anymore.
    He twirled a daisy between his fingers as he perched outside the churchyard. He waited for a sound. Or a smell. Or sight of someone. He’d seen a couple of people around this spot a few days back. They had guns, and one of them fired at a headstone. He didn’t want to mix with people like that. They were the last kind he wanted to deal with.
    Not that he wanted to deal with anyone at all.
    Better to just stay alone.
    That way, he couldn’t let anyone down.
    He started to stand. The rain had eased, but the clouds were still thick. Soon, night would fall. Not as soon as it did in winter. Hayden thought he was looking forward to the longer days. Increased visibility, less time to worry about what he couldn’t see. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Spend long enough in the darkness and it becomes your friend. Your greatest ally.
    He saw the sun slowly setting and prayed for dark.
    When darkness finally did arrive and still no sign of anybody—or anything—around the churchyard, he stepped inside. He ignored the silhouettes he thought he saw in the corners of his eyes. Had to adjust. Had to accept them for what they were—tricks, nothing more. The fantasies of a lonely mind. The projections of a messed up imagination.
    He ignored them. Because there was no smell. There were no flies.
    He was alone.
    He had to be alone.
    He walked over to the unmarked headstone right at the back of the graveyard. Somewhere above, an owl hooted, like the most stereotypical graveyard movie scene imaginable. The moon was bright behind the clouds. A little too bright for comfort.
    But he was okay. He was okay because he was alone.
    Alone with her.
    Alone with Sarah.
    He put the daisy by the side of the headstone. “Hello, Sarah.” He wasn’t sure why exactly he used this place as Sarah’s grave. But since she’d fallen to her death over the Holyhead cliffside, after having no opportunity to stick around and commemorate her after the cliffside became infested by undead, he’d taken comfort in having somewhere to visit her. Just some place where he could stop by. Show he cared.
    He was a long way from home. A long way from anyone.
    But having Sarah here—having something to remember Sarah by—that made a difference.
    It made him feel like he had someone to care for.
    It made him feel less alone.
    Slightly.
    “Saw him again today,” Hayden muttered. He looked around at the thick trees surrounding the graveyard. He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about what he’d seen. The boy in the window. Wasn’t sure he wanted to let it all out. Not again.
    But somehow, he found himself shaking.
    Found the words spilling out.
    “It’s… it’s like he’s punishing me.” He smiled. Shook his head. “What am I saying? Not ‘him’ exactly. But my mind. It’s like my mind’s punishing me. For what I did.”
    He stroked the top of the headstone. Felt his arms tingling as the memory replayed in his mind, over and over and over.
    The house.
    The scream.
    The look on the boy’s face as Hayden ran from the window…
    No.
    No more.
    Forget.
    “It’s… it’s like no matter what I do, no matter where I go, I’ll always remember. And maybe that’s right. Maybe it’s the way it should be. Because I know what I did. I—I have to live with what I did. I just can’t…”
    He refocused on the headstone. Perfect silence in the graveyard. The headstone saying nothing.
    He smiled again. “What am I