Those Who Remain (Book 2) (29 page)

I give him the gun and take his hand.

He lifts me up easily, then stares at the gun for a second. “Nice gun. SIG Sauer, 9mm. Solid, light. Where did you get it?”

Heart accelerating, I shrug and try to sound calm. “I found it. Someone just left it behind. I didn’t steal it.”

He plays it with, feeling its weight and aiming it. For a moment, I think he’s going to betray me and shoot me, but then he smiles. “What’s your name?”

“Laurie. What yours?”

“Call me Jacob.”

PREVIEW FOR ACT III

The Doctor XI

Weeks later.

His footsteps are uneven, slow and uncoordinated. I tried my best to fix his broken left foot, but the infection that saved his life now impedes his tendons to mend. His teeth are black now. Lumps cover his once youthful face and not a single hair remains on his head.

I’m Doctor Frankenstein and he’s my monster.

We need to do frequent stops in order to avoid further injuries on his fragile body. Lily’s fast pace had him missing his footing numerous times, culminating his now broken left foot. Now we move slowly, aware of him and his companion. Herded together by strong ropes, Danny and the other infected walk in line with hands tied and mouths covered by duct tape.

During the night, I can hear his gnarls and snarls, struggling to get himself free. During the day, I’m in charge of feeding him and taking care of his injuries.

I do this not because I’m a doctor. I do this because his friends can’t look at him anymore—with his disfigured features and black nails and fingers. I do this because I let the girl free, and suggested infecting him. He’s my responsibility now and I won’t let him die.

Lily’s narrowed gaze follows me everywhere. She can’t look at him, but freely stares at me with a mixture of resentment and pain. They are all afraid of me being wrong. This is no longer about a hope for a cure. This is about their friend’s life, and if I’m wrong….

If I can’t cure him, everything will crumble away.

The Rotting Zombie I

I want to eat. Feed me. I want to bite. I want to eat. They are walking around me, laughing. I’m so hungry. I want to kill them all.

Stop. Stop. Stop!

Let me eat. Let me sink my teeth into meat. I want it. I want it!

They poke me. They blind me. I want out. I want to run. I want to eat.

Meat. I want meat. Its smell is everything. I can see it. They dangle it in front of me. Raw and red. Juicy and bloody. It’s mine. Give it to me. Let me sink my teeth into it.

Why? Stop it. Stop it!

I sleep with my eyes open. I dream of an old lady with a hole in her face.

A face comes closer. I want to rip it open, destroy it into pieces. Dark lumps deform it. In the place of a nose, a mass of tumors. Small eyes barely appear below the swollen forehead. There’s no lips, only black teeth. A bald, disfigured monster stares back at me. He disappears.

Instead, a masked man greets me with a muffled voice. “Hello, Danny. How are you feeling?”

OTHER BOOKS BY PRISCILA SANTA ROSA

Those Who Remain - Book 1

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