Devoured - - (list of e readers .TXT) 📗
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Don huffed behind him, swearing under his breath.
Soldier’s boots echoed through the hallways.
Rifles barked.
A stairwell sat at the end of the hall, unguarded.
Lance threw his shoulder into the door, popping it open. He stumbled forward, nearly falling down the stairs before he grabbed the handrail.
“This is complete madness!” Don rushed past him, taking the steps two at a time.
Liz cried as she ran, her back heaving with each sob. Lance grabbed her arm and helped her down the stairs. They only made it down one flight when they heard the door above them kick open and boots attack the steps. Lots of boots.
The stairwell rumbled like an entire platoon chased after them.
Lance eased the next door open, rushing Don and Liz through, praying the hinges wouldn’t squeak. He gently pulled it closed just as he saw the boots rounding the bend between flights.
Don didn’t wait to see if it worked—he took off down another corridor, his expensive shoes sliding on the polished floor. Liz leaned against a wall, shaking her head, tears flying from her cheeks.
“I can’t do this!”
Lance grabbed her face in his hands, and lifted her chin. “Yes, you can. You have to.”
“It’s too much. I can’t handle it!”
“If you could handle my bullshit for years, then you can make it until we get out of here.”
The corner of her mouth curled slightly. “You are a pain in the ass.”
“Come on.” He grabbed her arm at the elbow and gently pulled her along. “I think this floor has access to the parking garage.”
Don stopped at the end of the hall, staring down at a puddle on the floor.
They ran up beside him, looking at the same spot, tasting copper in the air.
Blood.
A crimson smear trailed away from the puddle, streaking down the hallway and into an open door. The light in the hallway above the smear was smashed in, as if something slammed into it with great force
Don whispered, “I don’t think we want to go that way.”
“No shit.”
Lance went the other direction, fighting the curiosity that urged him to see what was waiting in that room. He followed exit signs that led them down the next hallway.
He slid to a stop in another lobby, standing across from three soldiers posted in front of the crosswalk to the parking garage.
Their rifles were already pointed in his direction when he rounded the corner.
“Freeze!” one of them shouted.
Lance raised his hands as Don and Liz caught up. He looked back toward the hallway to his left, wondering if he could make it there before they shot him. He could still see the trail of blood, though it was fifty yards away.
“What are you doing out of your rooms?”
“Those things are escaping!” Lance considered making a break for it, but he feared Liz and Don wouldn’t be fast enough to follow. “We’re getting the hell out of here! I would suggest you do the same.”
“Shut up! You aren’t—”
One of the inhuman shrieks cut the soldier off.
Lance peered down the hall again.
An arm reached through the door of the room with the blood streaks, hidden in shadow from the broken light above it. The knuckles smacked against the floor, forearm muscles flaring.
Thunder pounded in Lance’s ears as his heart kicked into overdrive.
A head appeared, mostly bald and gray, eyes gone. The body followed, bent over at the waist. The creature walked on all fours, its musculature straining inside of thinned skin. Blood dripped from long, sharp teeth.
Lance realized that he thought of the sick person as an it instead of a man.
“Holy shit.” Lance watched as it lumbered forward, sniffing at the air.
“What?” Don craned his neck to see around Lance. “Fuck me!”
Liz screamed when she saw it and sprinted toward the soldiers. “One of them is right there!”
Lance flinched, waiting for a hail of bullets to turn him into Swiss cheese.
“Stop! Lady, stay right there!”
“Fuck you! There’s a goddamn monster chasing us!” Liz ran to the right of the shocked soldiers, crouching behind a beige couch. “Shoot it!”
Lance watched the deformed human in the hallway. He didn’t understand how a body could mutate so quickly. He was far removed from his college biology classes, but he knew that what stood before him should have been impossible.
The whole thing felt like a science fiction novel.
It sniffed the ground, breaths so forceful that the blood on the floor spread under the pressure. Its shoulders jerked up, head cocking to the side.
Its mouth distended as it shrieked again.
Pain stabbed at Lance’s ears and he had to cup them to block out the sound.
The creature sprang forward, its torso lifting as it ran on its hind legs, its knuckles a foot from the ground.
Orders from the soldiers were nothing more than background noise as Lance shoved Don into the lobby.
“Go!”
They ran to the couch, kneeling beside Liz, breaths ragged, panic interjecting into every thought.
Lance stared at the flimsy couch and prayed that the soldiers were good shots. Fabric and particleboard weren’t going to save them from the horror coming down the hallway.
It came for them.
A freight train of rage and hunger.
It burst into the lobby, too fast to make the turn, and skidded into the wall, its pursuit barely slowing.
The soldiers unloaded in its direction, fingers pumping the triggers of their rifles, spraying bullets in wild arcs. They cried out in panic, years of training forgotten in a flash of terror.
The mutated man jumped away from the wall, landing on all fours, and charged forward.
Bullets chipped the floor and walls, fragments of construction churning to dust in the air.
They hit everything but their intended target.
It lunged at them, maw distending.
The soldiers’ guns clicked empty.
The creature plowed into the first man, its meat hooks for hands snapping onto his shoulders. It tore at his uniform as they fell to the ground, the beast landing on top. Layers of camouflage and flesh shredded in a blur of green and crimson.
The man screamed as it bit down on his neck, tearing muscle and sinew. The second soldier, taller and thicker, reared back and swung the stock of his M16, connecting with the back of its head.
It fell sideways, landing on its hands and knees, head snapping around.
“No, wait!” The soldier took a half step back before it pounced on him. His body turned to an oozing, limp pile in seconds.
The third soldier jammed another magazine home, screaming wildly as he lifted the rifle to his shoulder.
He never got a shot off. It clawed at his legs, gouging wide canyons in his quads. He fell to the ground, his finger jerking the trigger in spasms, punching holes in the ceiling.
It bit into his neck as it had the first man, gnawing at and drinking from his carotid artery.
Lance stared into the dying man’s eyes from behind the couch. Don and Liz ducked behind the furniture, arms wrapped around their heads. Liz clapped a hand over her mouth as a loud sob escaped her.
It kept drinking, not hearing her cries.
Lance watched as it fed on the three men, moving back and forth between the bodies. It took a bite out of one before going to the next, as if it was trying to decide which to feast upon first.
The sight stretched Lance’s mind to its limit. People weren’t meant to see such things. His stomach twisted, wanting to spill its contents. He struggled to keep his emotions in check, knowing that his survival depended on staying as calm as possible.
Burnt gunpowder stung at Lance’s eyes as he slowly lowered himself behind the couch, kneeling in front of Liz. She looked at him from watery, red eyes. He pointed at his chest and then at the other side of the couch, needing her to understand what he was about to do.
They couldn’t get out of the lobby alive—not with that thing right there. It was fast and strong, taking out three armed soldiers at the same time. They had no hope of outrunning it.
Their only chance was the loaded M16 still clutched in the dead man’s hand. Lance hadn’t fired a gun since he was a teenager, and had never even held an
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