The Hunger (Book 2): Consumed Read Free Page A

I’ll draw them to the front while you slip out the back door!”
    Cass nodded and ran up the handful of steps to the entrance.  Trying the knob, she found it locked.  She freed her axe from its casing and plunged it into the wood, just above the handle.  Putting her foot to the door, she yanked the blade free and swung again, splintering the barrier.
    The infected by the tree line reacted to the sound, angling toward the cottage.  Their siren songs filled the air, assaulting Lance’s ears.  He shouted at them, trying to refocus their attention.  His throat burned as he screamed, but he couldn’t get them to veer off course.
    He reached into the front seat and pressed the horn again, honking in a rhythm.  The lead creature paused, its head cocking at an angle.
    “That’s it!  Over here, you dumb bastards!”  He kept on the horn until they shifted in his direction again.
    Cass disappeared through the door of the cottage with Doc Brown close behind.  Their faces appeared in a side window a moment later, peering out at Lance.  Cass waved for him to follow.
    He stood by the car and continued honking, waiting for the infected to clear the tree line.  They would need every second they could get in case Eifort didn’t have the drawbridge lowered by the time they got there.
    The crowd behind him closed in.  He stared at the sightless face of death, reflecting, at the most inopportune time, about the unimaginable state of the human race.  They’d devolved, mutating into mindless monsters.  Only weeks ago, they built skyscrapers and traveled to space.  Now they attacked anything with flesh, driven by the never-ending desire to consume.
    No matter what, he refused to allow himself to become one of them.
    He snapped out of it and bolted for the cottage, the fishing rods clanging against his legs with each stride.  A desperate screech came from only a few feet behind him, urging him on, his quads burning as he stretched them to their limits.  Almost every day he cursed himself for being so out of shape.
    Lance cleared the front steps with a single leap and plunged into the semi-darkness of the cottage.
    His hip bounced off a bench by the front door, a twinge of pain running through his leg.
    “Great plan, dumbass.  I really liked the part where you drew a bunch of attention to yourself and then couldn’t get the car to move.”  Cass hid by a window, crouched down so only her head poked above the sill.
    “Kiss my ass.”  Lance ran past her, moving through a short hallway and dingy kitchen.  Pots and pans littered a peeling linoleum floor.
    He maneuvered his way through the cottage as quickly as the dim light would allow.  A dining room came after the kitchen, the smell of decay filling the air.  Lance paused as he spotted the source of the foul odor.
    A body leaned back in a chair at the end of a long dining table, its head rolled back as far as the neck would allow.  Dried blood dotted teal wallpaper behind it.  A gun rested in the lap of the body, index finger still caressing the trigger.
    Cass ran into his back, almost knocking him over.
    “Don’t stop!”  She shoved him hard as she eyed the body.  “If we don’t get to the boat, you’re going to wish you’d shot yourself too.”
    They moved to the rear of the house, finding a screened-in back porch.  Lance kicked a door open with his foot and ran down the three steps leading into the small backyard.
    Daywalkers staggered by the edge of the lawn, mewling sounds coming from their mouths as they worked in anticipation.
    Through a row of trees lining the bank at the end of the cottage’s property, Lance could see the Duchess floating.  The drawbridge wasn’t lowered.
    They hustled across the overgrown lawn, long grass flapping against their shins.  Dew soaked their shoes.
    A shriek came from their left, echoing off the trees before them.
    Lance caught a glimpse of a naked woman pointing at them, her head tipped back, elongated fangs