Read Online Zombie Battle (Books 1-3): Trinity by Jacqueline Druga - Free Book Online
Authors: Jacqueline Druga
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Ads: Link
that, really, there was no way it extended into the village. Another animal could have eaten that goat.
“Spread out, knock on doors,” The platoon sergeant ordered. “Try your best to convey that we are looking for people who are ill.”
Jack nodded his agreement; he was paired off with Spc. Carlson. The village houses lined a dirt road; he and Carlson were instructed to start at the last one.
They had just happened upon the home when the door opened and an old woman, maybe eighty emerged. She dropped her bucket when she saw Jack and Carlson, started rambling fast and insidiously in her native language as she ran to them, grabbing them.
Her face tear streaked her arms dirty.
As Jack tried to speak with her, he noticed her arms. Dirt? Blood. “Ma’am? Slow down. What is wrong?”
The door opened again and another woman emerged. High in the air she held sickle by its broken handle. Middle aged, thin. Her eyes widened, she lowered the sickle and she genuinely looked relieved to see them. She hurried to the old woman, pulling her from Jack.
“Come,” the woman beckoned. “Come.” She waved her arm and led Jack and Carlson around the small house.
The woman stopped and merely extended her arm to what looked like a small chicken shack. “Husband.”
Jack asked. “Your husband is in there?”
She nodded. “Husband” She pointed with the sickle.
Jack glanced at Carlson and both men took a step.
The younger of the women, reached out, stopping Jack.
“What?” Jack asked. “We’re going to go check.”
She pointed to his rifle and reached for it.
Jack moved it from her way.
The woman pointed to the rifle, shook her head, then mimicked raising the gun.
“Um, Sarge,” Carlson said. “I think she’s telling us to raise our weapons.”
“I think you’re right.” Jack lifted his and motioned his head. “Let’s go.”
The shack was only twenty feet away, but it seemed like a mile. Arriving at the door, Jack signaled Carlson to stand back and then Jack sprang open the door.
Nothing.
They looked at each other, then with weapons raised walked in.
It was quiet and dark. Another step then out from no where, with an inhuman growl, rushed a man.
His snarled and raged for Jack and Carlson, snapping to a stop inches before reaching them.
Jack stepped back. The man had been restrained by chains, but he fought and struggled to reach and bite him.
His face, his wounds, his coloring. All the same.
Jack didn’t need to be a doctor to know, this man, in this remote village, was infected.
PART TWO
INTEGRATION
CHAPTER ONE
May 7 th
Twenty Thousand Feet above Germany
The radio earpiece slipped from the Co-pilot’s fingers as he fumbled to get it in place. Fingers that trembled and were covered in blood. In fact, there wasn’t a part of Greg Harlow’s body that didn’t shake.
He had never been so scared in all of his life.
The plane was at twenty thousand feet. An altitude that would have to change, because soon he would need to prepare for his descent into Berlin.
But before Greg could land he had to radio in. And before he could do that, he had to get a grip.
Marion wasn’t helping. She was a veteran flight attendant who brought the situation to his and the pilot’s attention. Her hysterical screaming turned into continuous crying. What had happened? An out of the ordinary call from the tower sent Marion to the back of the plane in search of a high profile doctor who wasn’t supposed to be on board.
When she returned from her search, Marion was out of control.
Unable to decipher what had brought the usually calm woman to hysterics, the Captain went to investigate.
Greg didn’t have time to determine why Marion was bodily blocking the cockpit door or acting the way she did. He wanted to radio Berlin about the passenger, but a call from the Captain halted that.
“Greg, we have a situation. You need to . . .”
That was it. The only words the Captain spoke. The call from
“Spread out, knock on doors,” The platoon sergeant ordered. “Try your best to convey that we are looking for people who are ill.”
Jack nodded his agreement; he was paired off with Spc. Carlson. The village houses lined a dirt road; he and Carlson were instructed to start at the last one.
They had just happened upon the home when the door opened and an old woman, maybe eighty emerged. She dropped her bucket when she saw Jack and Carlson, started rambling fast and insidiously in her native language as she ran to them, grabbing them.
Her face tear streaked her arms dirty.
As Jack tried to speak with her, he noticed her arms. Dirt? Blood. “Ma’am? Slow down. What is wrong?”
The door opened again and another woman emerged. High in the air she held sickle by its broken handle. Middle aged, thin. Her eyes widened, she lowered the sickle and she genuinely looked relieved to see them. She hurried to the old woman, pulling her from Jack.
“Come,” the woman beckoned. “Come.” She waved her arm and led Jack and Carlson around the small house.
The woman stopped and merely extended her arm to what looked like a small chicken shack. “Husband.”
Jack asked. “Your husband is in there?”
She nodded. “Husband” She pointed with the sickle.
Jack glanced at Carlson and both men took a step.
The younger of the women, reached out, stopping Jack.
“What?” Jack asked. “We’re going to go check.”
She pointed to his rifle and reached for it.
Jack moved it from her way.
The woman pointed to the rifle, shook her head, then mimicked raising the gun.
“Um, Sarge,” Carlson said. “I think she’s telling us to raise our weapons.”
“I think you’re right.” Jack lifted his and motioned his head. “Let’s go.”
The shack was only twenty feet away, but it seemed like a mile. Arriving at the door, Jack signaled Carlson to stand back and then Jack sprang open the door.
Nothing.
They looked at each other, then with weapons raised walked in.
It was quiet and dark. Another step then out from no where, with an inhuman growl, rushed a man.
His snarled and raged for Jack and Carlson, snapping to a stop inches before reaching them.
Jack stepped back. The man had been restrained by chains, but he fought and struggled to reach and bite him.
His face, his wounds, his coloring. All the same.
Jack didn’t need to be a doctor to know, this man, in this remote village, was infected.
PART TWO
INTEGRATION
CHAPTER ONE
May 7 th
Twenty Thousand Feet above Germany
The radio earpiece slipped from the Co-pilot’s fingers as he fumbled to get it in place. Fingers that trembled and were covered in blood. In fact, there wasn’t a part of Greg Harlow’s body that didn’t shake.
He had never been so scared in all of his life.
The plane was at twenty thousand feet. An altitude that would have to change, because soon he would need to prepare for his descent into Berlin.
But before Greg could land he had to radio in. And before he could do that, he had to get a grip.
Marion wasn’t helping. She was a veteran flight attendant who brought the situation to his and the pilot’s attention. Her hysterical screaming turned into continuous crying. What had happened? An out of the ordinary call from the tower sent Marion to the back of the plane in search of a high profile doctor who wasn’t supposed to be on board.
When she returned from her search, Marion was out of control.
Unable to decipher what had brought the usually calm woman to hysterics, the Captain went to investigate.
Greg didn’t have time to determine why Marion was bodily blocking the cockpit door or acting the way she did. He wanted to radio Berlin about the passenger, but a call from the Captain halted that.
“Greg, we have a situation. You need to . . .”
That was it. The only words the Captain spoke. The call from
Similar Books
The Blue Sweater: Bridging the Gap Between Rich and Poor in an Interconnected World
Jacqueline Novogratz
