Resurrection: A Zombie Novel by - (ready player one ebook .TXT) 📕

Darkness filled the house so absolutely that Parker couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed except by feel. He groped his way out of the bathroom and into the hallway, poking Annie in the neck and elbowing Frank in the ear.

“Sorry,” he said.

Somebody banged into a wall.

Parker could navigate his own house well enough in the dark, “seeing” it in his memory. That, he figured, was how blind people got around, only they’d learned to “see” a much wider swath of the world than their own bedroom and hallway. But Parker did not know this house. Nor did he know the streets outside. He’d have to feel his way hundreds of feet to the water on a street full of predators. And if by God he made it that far, he’d have to “feel” his way to the boat.

Drowning or teeth? Which one was worse? Getting chewed up would hurt more, but sinking into a dark sea where his body would never be found, his lungs filling with burning saltwater, frightened him more than anything else in the world.

Maybe he should just run. Run like he’s on fire, throw himself into the water, and swim toward the boat so fast and so hard that nothing could possibly catch him. He might get lucky and bang into it. Then he could pull himself up the aluminum ladder. It could work. He had a very small chance of making it.

But only if he ran. Because otherwise he’d panic and freeze.

“Don’t run,” Hughes said when they got to the living room. “We’ll only make it if we go slowly.”

Every cell in Parker’s body screamed bullshit. This was flight time. But on some level he knew Hughes was thinking more clearly. He probably did have a better chance of survival if he emptied his mind and did exactly what Hughes told him. Just surrender. Surrender to the plan and don’t think about it. Just do it.

He took a deep breath.

The rain sounded louder, clearer, and closer when Hughes opened the door. Parker could just make out a swath of dull gray light overhead. That was the sky. There were no stars, only clouds, and there was no ambient light from a city in any direction to light up the underside of the clouds.

Parker could not see the street. He could not see any houses. He could not see the porch he knew was in front of him. He could not see the steps he’d have to descend. He could not see the rain thundering down onto everything.

Nor could he see those things he knew still wandered around out there. He’d never make it all the way to the water without bumping into at least one of them. And then what?

He’d shit himself to death, that’s what.

“Take it slow,” Hughes said quietly. “And remember. No yelling until you get to the boat.”

When he crossed the porch, Parker saw the water. It looked like a faint gray splotch below the slightly lighter gray sky. He could make out no details, let alone the boat. He saw only the faintest possible shade of gray and exploding purple and black shapes on his retinas, the same dark kaleidoscope he saw while falling asleep.

When his feet found the first step leading down to the sidewalk, a torrent of rainwater lashed his face, chest, and arms, soaking and freezing him instantly as if he stood in a cold shower. Water even got in his nose.

And the noise was incredible, like a 100,000 hands slapping the ground. It came from every direction and made him dizzy. He struggled against the urge to sit on the steps.

Instead he reached out in front of him and found Hughes’ back. He grabbed onto the man’s shoulders, but Hughes turned and told him to let go.

“We’re more likely to bump into those things if we don’t split up,” Hughes said. Was that really true? “Just stay on the road and take it slow.”

Somebody shushed them. Parker thought it was Annie, but he couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t even certain he heard somebody shushing them, the rain was so loud. Maybe that’s all he heard.

Those things were out there. They could be three feet in front of him. One foot in front of him. Three inches in front of him. How would he know? It was like stepping out into a minefield. A living, breathing, moving minefield with fangs that would take him apart as thoroughly as a Claymore.

He almost fell forward when he reached the sidewalk and expected more stairs. Someone—or some thing—bumped into him from behind. “Just me,” Annie said and gently pushed him.

He was going to lose his mind before he got to the water. The infected were everywhere, swarming around in the dark. Maybe they could see better. Maybe they could hear better. Maybe they could smell better. They could certainly fight better against an unarmed man. All they had to do was bite Parker just once and he’d be finished.

Actually, if they bit him just once, he would join them. Good God. Talk about an advantage. If only that dynamic could be reversed. If healthy people could “tag” the infected and cure them, the human race could increase its numbers. And its advantage.

He’d rather drown or be eaten than get bitten and turn. That much he knew. But the water was still so far away. Hundreds of feet away. There could be twenty of those things between him and the shore.

Parker swallowed hard and froze. He couldn’t move in any direction. Annie bumped into him again, but this time he stepped out of her way and then stopped again. He blinked his eyes, squinted as hard