Blood Moon by Gwendolyn Harper (best sales books of all time .TXT) 📗

Caitlin slowed, motioning to Sarah. “Are you hurt?” She whispered.

The little girl shook her head. Just as she was about to speak, the door pushed open again and the Geek shoved even harder, forcing its arm all the way to the elbow through the gap.

This time it didn’t let the door close. Just continued to lean in, growling and snapping it’s jaws.

The clock was ticking.

Looking to Nicole, Caitlin slid the revolver back into her waistband and said, “I need your knife.”

“It’s just a pocketknife,” Nicole countered, but she was already pulling it from her sock.

“It’ll do,” Caitlin said, taking it from her. “On my count, you grab Sarah and run upstairs. Don’t wait for me.”

“Caitlin—”

“Ready?” She cut in, refusing to debate.

She watched the gap in the door, measured the way the arm twisted and grabbed at nothing, finding where the head was.

Inhaling, she adjusted her grip on the handle and squared her shoulders.

“One… Two…” Caitlin waited for Nicole to be as close to Sarah as possible. “Three.”

Leaping forward, Caitlin grabbed the decaying forearm and yanked with all her strength, slamming the Geek against the door with enough force to stun it. With its face pressed into the gap, she didn’t hesitate to bring her knife down, straight into the eye socket.

A disgusting squelch was followed by a muted groan as the thing fell dead. Again.

Nicole and Sarah were already to the bottom of the stairs, and Caitlin hurried to kick the body away enough to shut the door and latch the deadbolt.

As she turned, following the others, something knocked behind her and she stalled.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

More and more, all coming from the same place—behind the door she’d just closed.

“Shit,” she hissed. “Nicole get her upstairs.”

Nearly carrying Sarah to the landing, Nicole said, “Go find Debbie. Run, Sarah, now.”

“We have to block the door,” Caitlin told her, searching the dark room for something heavy.

Nicole ran behind her. “The filing cabinet.”

Following, Caitlin squatted down to grab the sides. The two women hoisted the piece up, struggling not to drop it on their feet as they carried it over.

“Jam it under the handle,” Caitlin said, sliding the edge against the wall.

Hungry Geeks pounded on the building, trying to reach the warm bodies they could hear moving.

If they didn’t find a way to quiet them, the entire herd would be at that door, and a stupid filing cabinet and some chains wouldn’t be enough to keep them out.

“Cae?” Booker called down, taking the stairs two at a time. “Nicole?”

“We’re alright,” she told him. “But we’ve got a problem.”

Halting in the middle of the room, he stared at barely functioning barricade and cursed under his breath.

“A’ight, c’mon, we gotta tell the others,” he said, waving them back.

The atmosphere of the church buzzed as children and elderly alike became aware of the danger they were in.

Surrounded by her friends, Sarah quietly cried, overwhelmed by her own close call.

It didn’t take long to give Jorge and Debbie the rundown.

“We have to find a way to get those Geeks away from the door,” Caitlin said. “If too many of them pile up, they’ll break through.”

Debbie scowled. “If we make too much noise, they’ll all come straight for the church. We don’t have enough manpower or weapons to fight off a hundred biters.”

“We need a distraction to get them away from the building,” Jorge said, pulling anxiously at his beard.

Booker planted his hands on his hips. “Could make a run for the Jeep,” he said. “Start driving and lure ‘em down the road.”

Gripping his wrist tight, Caitlin shook her head. “No way in hell.”

“Well, what other idea—”

“Fire,” Travis piped up, looking around the group. “They’re attracted to fire and heat. Last week I saw a bunch of them stumble into a barn that got hit by lightning.”

Booker smirked. “Y’got a flame thrower in the back I don’t know about?”

Jorge’s head jerked up. “There’s cleaning supplies and rags in the fellowship hall,” he told them. “I think we have enough to make a Molotov cocktail.”

A surprised chuckle escaped Booker’s throat as he clapped Jorge on the shoulder.

“Alright, Bill Nye, lead the way.”

It was sloppy work and they didn’t have time to measure things properly, but with Jorge’s expertise, they soon had four homemade incendiary devices fit for a riot.

“Is there access to the steeple from inside?” Booker asked.

“Yeah, there’s a pull-down ladder back this way,” Jorge said, walking towards the pulpit.

Hidden behind the organ, in the ceiling, was a hatch the size of a small person. As Jorge pulled the ladder down, Booker grunted.

“No way I’ll fit through there,” he said, arching his neck to get a better angle. “It’s gotta be one of y’all.” He looked to Caitlin and Nicole.

“No,” Travis said. “I should do it.”

Jorge shook his head. “Now’s not the time to play the hero, Trav.”

“I’m not,” he argued. “I played baseball. I have a good arm.” He took a step closer, imploring. “Please, I know I can do this. I have to.”

“And what about Kyle? If something happens to you—”

“I’m doing this for Kyle,” Travis told him. “I’m doing it for everyone.”

“I think I can fit through there,” Nicole said suddenly. “I can go with him.”

 Caitlin started to reach for her. “Are you sure?”

“More sure of that than letting a fifteen year old handle this on his own.”

It was settled. Travis would go up first, then Nicole, and Caitlin would hand them each bottle.

“Hey, kid,” Booker called when Travis was nearly to the top. “Swing for the fences, alright?”

Travis grinned. “Yes, sir.”

“What if the fire gets out of hand?” Debbie asked, chewing her thumbnail.

“Rather have to fight a fire than a herd of groaners,”