Read Online Crisis Event: Black Feast by Greg Shows, Zachary Womack - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Greg Shows, Zachary Womack
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in front of them. So they’d smashed everything they didn’t recognize as immediately useful.
For fun.
She hoped in a moment of spite that they had gone on to starve to death.
“Maybe we really are too stupid to live,” she said, echoing her ex-boyfriend’s most prevalent sentiment. Then she saw the empty plastic bottle with the words “Sodium Acetate” on it. She could see the powder on the floor, trampled and mixed with dirt and other powdered chemicals.
“Damn,” she said. She would love a bottle of it right about now, since she could mix water with it to make a reusable hand warmer.
Sadie travelled up and down the room several times, her flashlight illuminating it one section at a time. She checked and re-checked each cabinet and pantry, looking for anything useful the idiot raiders had missed in their rampage.
Beneath a floor cabinet she found a one-foot length of iron rod. In the back corner of one cabinet she found a broken glass bottle of manganese oxide that looked like it hadn’t mixed with anything.
Everything else had been destroyed or scattered or contaminated or carried away.
She had to fight to keep from crying.
She wondered if maybe she shouldn’t crawl into one of the roomy cabinets beneath one of the counters and try to sleep for awhile, but the thought of the dead girl on the table downstairs creeped her out too much. She was already steeling herself for the trip out of the building and down the creek to her bike when she found the door.
It had been there the whole time, at the far end from where she’d entered. She’d missed it because of the stainless steel lab table someone had pushed up against it, and the giant plastic poster of the periodic table they’d hung above the table.
The table was six feet wide and waist high, and its edge blocked off access to one of the chemistry labs she’d searched earlier. You could open the lab door to the lab, but you couldn’t walk through. That part didn’t make a lot of sense to Sadie, so she shined her light over the periodic table.
“Why would anyone hang a periodic table this back here?” she whispered to the silent room.
The answer came when she trained her flashlight onto the poster and looked closely enough to see the outline of the door frame behind it.
Sadie’s heart began to pound, and her stomach fluttered. She climbed up onto the table, which was also covered in spilled powders and dried liquids, and pulled down the poster. The top half of the door and the two inch gap between the back of the table and the solid wooden door were revealed.
Sadie folded the poster and reached behind the table and turned the knob. The door swung open.
“Nice,” Sadie said, and shined her flashlight into the room.
Quiet and undisturbed, glittering with promise, was a room full of shelving that held intact jars of dry powdered chemicals, unbroken brown bottles of various liquids, miles of surgical tubing, and hundreds of pieces of intact glassware, pipettes, metal stands with adjustable clamps and support rings and wire mesh gauze.
Next to the shelving were wooden lockers like the one she’d seen downstairs in the slaughter room. A tall metal locker was against the wall. A big steel Master Lock held it closed.
Sadie climbed over the table and stepped down inside the tidy room. She spun slowly, shining her flashlight over everything, getting more and more excited as she realized she’d found things to make her trip here worth it.
But she was running out of time.
Even now her legs were quivering and she was starting to feel a little faint. She needed to eat. And to rest. To lie around while her abused muscles and joints healed.
Sadie pulled off her pack and unzipped the main pocket. She had only two or three inches of open space at the top of the pack, and could maybe fit some other items down into the lower pockets. So what should she take?
She went through the entire inventory of chemicals twice before selecting anything. Even then
For fun.
She hoped in a moment of spite that they had gone on to starve to death.
“Maybe we really are too stupid to live,” she said, echoing her ex-boyfriend’s most prevalent sentiment. Then she saw the empty plastic bottle with the words “Sodium Acetate” on it. She could see the powder on the floor, trampled and mixed with dirt and other powdered chemicals.
“Damn,” she said. She would love a bottle of it right about now, since she could mix water with it to make a reusable hand warmer.
Sadie travelled up and down the room several times, her flashlight illuminating it one section at a time. She checked and re-checked each cabinet and pantry, looking for anything useful the idiot raiders had missed in their rampage.
Beneath a floor cabinet she found a one-foot length of iron rod. In the back corner of one cabinet she found a broken glass bottle of manganese oxide that looked like it hadn’t mixed with anything.
Everything else had been destroyed or scattered or contaminated or carried away.
She had to fight to keep from crying.
She wondered if maybe she shouldn’t crawl into one of the roomy cabinets beneath one of the counters and try to sleep for awhile, but the thought of the dead girl on the table downstairs creeped her out too much. She was already steeling herself for the trip out of the building and down the creek to her bike when she found the door.
It had been there the whole time, at the far end from where she’d entered. She’d missed it because of the stainless steel lab table someone had pushed up against it, and the giant plastic poster of the periodic table they’d hung above the table.
The table was six feet wide and waist high, and its edge blocked off access to one of the chemistry labs she’d searched earlier. You could open the lab door to the lab, but you couldn’t walk through. That part didn’t make a lot of sense to Sadie, so she shined her light over the periodic table.
“Why would anyone hang a periodic table this back here?” she whispered to the silent room.
The answer came when she trained her flashlight onto the poster and looked closely enough to see the outline of the door frame behind it.
Sadie’s heart began to pound, and her stomach fluttered. She climbed up onto the table, which was also covered in spilled powders and dried liquids, and pulled down the poster. The top half of the door and the two inch gap between the back of the table and the solid wooden door were revealed.
Sadie folded the poster and reached behind the table and turned the knob. The door swung open.
“Nice,” Sadie said, and shined her flashlight into the room.
Quiet and undisturbed, glittering with promise, was a room full of shelving that held intact jars of dry powdered chemicals, unbroken brown bottles of various liquids, miles of surgical tubing, and hundreds of pieces of intact glassware, pipettes, metal stands with adjustable clamps and support rings and wire mesh gauze.
Next to the shelving were wooden lockers like the one she’d seen downstairs in the slaughter room. A tall metal locker was against the wall. A big steel Master Lock held it closed.
Sadie climbed over the table and stepped down inside the tidy room. She spun slowly, shining her flashlight over everything, getting more and more excited as she realized she’d found things to make her trip here worth it.
But she was running out of time.
Even now her legs were quivering and she was starting to feel a little faint. She needed to eat. And to rest. To lie around while her abused muscles and joints healed.
Sadie pulled off her pack and unzipped the main pocket. She had only two or three inches of open space at the top of the pack, and could maybe fit some other items down into the lower pockets. So what should she take?
She went through the entire inventory of chemicals twice before selecting anything. Even then
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