In The End Box Set by Stevens, GJ (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📗

the magazine and carefully pushed it home just in time to hear movement; a rustle of the bushes at our back.

I felt Andrew's surprise as keen as mine. The noise was behind us, not on the road.

No words came, but I could swear the stench of rotten flesh grew stronger.

Andrew rested his palm on my chest, a signal to stay still, to make no noise. It was a signal I didn't need.

The rustle grew louder and I swore I heard voices. I turned towards Andrew, but I couldn't see his response. The noise was growing.

We had choices to make. Shoot first, or run. I pulled back the slide.

The motion from the bush reacted, gaining ground as the mechanism clicked the bullet into place. I pushed the weapon out towards the building commotion and rested my finger on the trigger, only stopping as I heard footsteps scuffing along the road at our backs as well.

19

With adrenaline coursing, fear pulled me in both directions, torn to which needed my reaction. Was it the feet scuffing along the tarmac, a beat skipped with each chaotic misstep? Was it the shudder of the undergrowth so close and with a speed I knew I couldn't match?

I had no time to think. Still, I didn't move. What if on the road travelled an injured friend, running lame from a danger I already knew too well?

What had Andrew seen for us to dive into this hiding place?

We were blind to all around, only with our ears to lead us in the right direction. Was it an animal gaining in the bushes, a stray dog not fed for over twenty-four hours?

How long would it take for a pet to reverse hundreds of generations of breeding? I'd rather tackle a hungry animal than something which would kill me and make me live again.

What if it were one of our friends? We'd separated and I had no chance to question what had happened. Alive or dead? I needed to know.

Zoe's face came to mind, even Naomi's slid past in the gallery of images. Toby was gone, or soon to be.

Matt. I didn't know how he'd fared. Lily. She was past the point of no return for sure. Was it a blessing they'd gone together? How long would it be before they turned into those things?

Toby wouldn't be dead yet. Lily either. Unless they'd bled out, but not by now? Or had I missed time? Moments unnoticed whilst I'd lain overwhelmed.

I thought of Cassidy. Her blonde striking hair and blue eyes. Then Ellie, her shorter mirror image. Her fear pointed in my direction.

I thought of Leo, Daniel and Max. A sudden hope sparking they may have made it. They'd left earlier than the rest of us; perhaps there was a chance for them.

I thought of the old man's head crashing so hard against the windscreen; the splintered glass was something I would have to live with for as long as I survived.

Realisation sparked. Was he was one of them when he'd died? Is that why he was in the road? But there hadn't been that smell, the odour of decay.

No. I couldn’t let the thought temper the guilt. He was alive before, but what was he now? What were any of them now? Was it one or all of them, dead, hunting for their next feed? Were all of them out there in the bushes or on the road? No distinction between the two. A pincer movement with no right way to turn.

Or was it our friends, searching in the dark? Scared, like us. Like me.

Andrew was no help. I couldn't see past the leaves at my face, my ears full of the rustle of life, the scrape of soles against the road.

Andrew knew why we'd dived into the bush. He'd said there were more, but not how many. The roadblock was not so far away. I had no real idea of how far, how fast I'd driven in my race to get away from where Chloe was first attacked. From the place when this became all too real.

Now I'd wasted too much time. They were on us, so close. Somehow they knew, must have known where we were.

Finding Andrew's wrist in the dark, I gripped, tensing twice. He reflexed in response.

I tapped left, trying to indicate towards the noise in the bushes, but he twisted right; my right, showing the opposite direction.

Did he mean it was not the way to go? I indicated left once more, moving his hand with a jerk.

His arm was limp. The noise too much, the scrape of the feet too close; the rattle of the leaves like drums in my ears.

I took Andrew's lead, or what I thought he'd meant and leapt right, the breath of cold air feeling great on my face. The pistol in my hand pushed out.

I'd made the right and wrong choice, depending on how you felt about what I stood in front of.

My feet were on the hard surface of the road, my vision clear, the first rays of sun climbing the horizon.

I hoped the gun worked this time.

20

In front of me stood not one of my friends, not a companion who'd died and come back as something else. Not someone I'd seen before.

Still, my finger wouldn't commit on the trigger. I'd made too many recent mistakes in this life already.

She was mid-twenties with brunette hair tied high in a casual bun, the right of her face reflected perfection in the first light of the day. A thin, straight eyebrow ran to a point after hours of preening. She wore an Aran jumper. To the left was a black hole hovering over her breast where dark, dried liquid radiated out. Somehow, I knew it would look a different colour in the sun.

Underneath