Lust Plague (Steamwork Chronicles) Read Free

one knew how it transmitted. And his squad was in there. The captain too. A lot of others who might need help. Maybe fighting off some of the more badass zombies.
    Keep going.
    “Pardon me.” He slipped his shotgun free, stepped over a limb sticking out from the pile, then adjusted his weapons, and his trousers, before moving on. The aura of lust was so thick in here his cock felt hard enough to dent steel.
    Walking slow and careful, he turned right toward the gym, where the squad should be. No signs of shooting yet.
    On the way, he directed two normal women toward the launch deck. If worst came to worst, they could evacuate on a gyro.
    With the gymnasium doors in sight, he found a young blonde-haired woman struggling in the corridor with four zombified men. Their slack faces, empty eyes, and devotion to lust gave them away. For a millisecond, sadness swamped him. None of them would ever be people again.
    The world would be so messed up if this thing took over. He let a hint of anger through.
    “This ain’t right.” He reached for one man, thumped his head, let him go, grabbed another’s arm. Shivered at the fury burning up his veins. Ice, man, ice . Killing might be expected, but he just plain couldn’t do it. Do not throw him toward the metal spigot . He could see the guy’s head caving in if he hit that.
    Aim corrected, Sten threw him at the wall, then stared at his hands, clenched them in tight. The pain steadied him.
    At least he got to do something. With his blood fizzing in his veins the way it was, hitting somebody felt good.
    Huh, she was kissing the last of ’em. What the…? Was she affected or not? He wrenched away the last man and clobbered him too. The woman flicked back her pigtails and looked at him wild-eyed, then leaned against the wall, panting, breasts heaving, hands at her mouth. Only her pale blue eyes showed.
    Ground-up zombie, saliva, semen—none of those had caused infection, and the scientists hadn’t pinned down how it was communicated. She seemed normal.
    “You okay?” He shoved one of the moaning unconscious men farther away with his boot—sending him sliding across the polished timber floor. “You like kissing zombies?”
    “Yes. Um. No, I don’t like that! Oh dear. I feel odd.” Looking bewildered, she took her hands away from her face and peered wistfully down at the man she’d been kissing. She shrugged. “The…the captain. She’s in there. I’m sure I heard her scream. Please, can you help her?”
    Me, the savior. Heh . He liked the notion of championing the underdog. Thing was—did the captain count as an underdog?
    Was it possible to be half infected? He checked the woman over. Her brain seemed to be mostly functioning.
    “I’ll try, miss. Head for the launch deck. I sent others there. Grab a pistol.” He gestured. The floor was strewn with abandoned weapon belts. “You can shoot?”
    “Yes. Thank you! I’m Emily,” she called as he shoved open the doors and looked in.
    “Sure. Nice to meet you, Emily,” he muttered, then blinked and took in the scene.
    Like some erotic spiderweb, the woman fastened to the rope wall sprouted wire. Each line from breast, groin, and skin, led to the hand of a zombie. Least they all had their pants on. Seemed like they’d strung her up but little else. But was she infected? If she was, he’d have to abandon her. God, that notion hurt.
    The tall GAM lieutenant had orange-fire eyes. Shiny eyes and one helluva evil grin . He rummaged through the facts about Zombie F again.
    This man was some special zombie, but what was the label? One thing the PME had taught him was to take out the officers first in a fight. A lieutenant with fire in his eyes had to trump a plain one.
    “Hi there, Mr. Lieutenant!” As he strolled closer, he sheathed the shotgun, draped his left hand on the pommel of his sword. Shoot in this crowd and the captain would likely get hurt.
    Kaysana’s eyes had rolled back in their sockets. She breathed in and out