Читать книгу Respect the Dead - Shawn McLain - Страница 5

Glass sliced into Dan’s arms, ripped his hands as he clawed through the shattered window. The woman inside screamed running for the front door. Throwing it open, she ran straight into Lisa’s grabbing arms and hungry mouth. Blood flowed freely from the fresh wound torn in the woman’s neck. A gory chunk hit the floor with a splat wrenched free from Lisa’s open mouth. She lurched for more. The terrified woman struggled to free herself pushing against Lisa’s face with one hand while grabbing at the wound on her neck with the other. Blood coated her hand instantly. She stumbled back only to emit a gurgling scream as two fingers parted company from her hand remaining in Lisa’s chewing mouth. More pain burst through her body. Dan’s teeth sunk into the other side of her neck. Blood sprayed across a picture of a calm lake on the wall.

Grey faced, the woman was able to push free. Dizzy and weak she stumbled across the room. A weak cry sounded in her throat. She watched her severed fingers fell from Lisa’s mouth. Cold, the woman was getting cold. The horrid pair slouched ever closer. The woman leaned heavily against the wall, sliding down it. Her damaged hand fell to her side, even as she tried to stem the tide of blood from her throat, the woman’s heart stopped beating. A pool of blood grew around the body. Dan and Lisa stopped, Dan’s head cocked to one side as if asking Lisa a question. Her head bowed. She stared at the cooling thickening blood. Dan’s moan was answered by Lisa’s. They’re prey was gone, dead. They moaned again. As if in response the woman’s moan joined them from the floor. One hand still clutching at the wound on her neck, the other leaving a thick trail of red on the wall. The woman raised herself slowly. The three stared at each other with grey colored eyes. Their hunger burned. They needed to feed.

Blinded by fear, he ran, ran from the house, from his wife. "Those people…Those things attacked her, bit her." His mind screamed. He was crashing through the underbrush heading for the road. Somewhere nearby he heard a car skid to a halt. Someone was there. He could get help. Tree limbs smacked and slashed his face. His legs protested. His lungs seared. Years of heavy smoking, fatty foods and watching TV took their toll. Gasping he could see the taillights. His chest burned, he couldn’t breathe. Falling face first down the gully his heart gave out.

Back at the house three heads snapped up turning to the sound. The skid of tires on the road not far from away rang like a dinner bell. They only thing that separated them was the woods and the creek. These obstacles meant nothing they wouldn't get in the way of what they needed...

Warm, living, food.