Sometimes We Ran (Book 3): Rescue Read Free Page A

out of my hand. It disappeared under the dining room table. I watched from the ground as Elizabeth retreated from the doorway, fumbling with her rifle. She hesitated as the zombie got near her, and she never raised her rifle or fired a shot. The zombie grabbed onto her jacket, and they both tumbled into through the dining room..
    Elizabeth waited too long. It may have killed us both.
    I watched as Elizabeth, with Zombie-Boy attached, struggled and fell into the living room. It was a miracle, but Elizabeth managed to not get bitten. She crawled under a glass table to fend off the zombie's attack. Zombie-Boy hopped on the table and continued the battle. He slammed his head into the cheap glass to get to Elizabeth, who was now calling for help. It was only a matter of time before the young Red-Eye figured out how to get to her. As quick as I could, I got to my feet and drew my secondary weapon: a knife I kept on my belt. I hurried into the living room, and tried to lure the walking corpse off the table.
    The zombie saw me enter the room and turned his laser red eyes on me. Elizabeth was forgotten as he leaped off the table. When he got near enough, I blocked his outstretched hands, and jammed the knife in his throat. Zombie-Boy went to his knees as blood spilled out of the gaping wound. He gathered himself and made one last attempt to make a meal out of me. As he closed in, I plunged the knife into one of his eye sockets, turning it quickly to scramble his brains. After emitting a few low moans, it fell to the floor, dead. I watched for a minute as it twitched at my feet. Soon, the eyes turned pink, and Zombie-Boy went silent. His hand opened, and a small, blue object fell out. The zombie had been clutching it the whole time. Zombies sometimes held on to objects from their past life for a while after being turned.
    In this case, it was a die-cast model car. This zombie had been holding on to a favorite toy.
    Elizabeth had already crawled out from under the table. She took a seat in a nearby chair. Even in the murky light of the house, I saw that Elizabeth couldn't stop shaking.
    I walked over and placed my hand on her head. “Are you okay? Did it bite you?” I asked, checking her neck for the telltale marks of a zombie bite.
    Elizabeth didn't answer at first. She placed her head between her knees. “No bites. Just feel like I'm going to pass out or throw up.” She paused to take a few breaths. “Maybe both.”
    “You're bleeding,” I said. A few drops of dark, red blood were coming from a slight gash in Elizabeth's scalp. It dripped onto her jacket and stained her long blonde hair. I took a decorative napkin from the dining room and held it to her head. Elizabeth winced a bit, and began to cry.
    “I'm sorry, John. I almost got us both killed,” she said between sobs. She was trying not to cry, which made her sob even harder.
    Patting her shoulder, I said, “It's okay. We'll talk about it later. You want to help me get our deadhead trespasser out of here? Then, we can go find a warm place to rest up a bit.”
    Elizabeth nodded, and took my hand so I could help her up. “Okay.”
    I found a sheet and wrapped the zombie up. We dragged it to the front door, and then went back to cleaning up the scene so as not to attract any of the zombie's dead friends. Elizabeth took care of the blood, while I picked up the floor a little. After wiping off the gore, the Red-Eye's toy car went into my pocket. I also retrieved my gun from under the dining room table.
    Elizabeth and I stepped to the front door and prepared to leave. Elizabeth's wound was still seeping a little blood. “Better let Doctor Connelly take a look at your head.”
    “Right,” she replied. Elizabeth took one last look around. “Can't wait to get outside. Stinks in here.”
    I hadn't noticed the smell until Elizabeth mentioned it. It was a heavy dead animal smell mixed with the mustiness of an empty house. “Yeah...you got that right.”
    I opened the door, and