Free The Fall of Society (The Fall of Society Series, Book 1) by Thonas Rand

but he
stopped when he saw a young woman running for her life from a group of undead
on the other side. He dropped the cart to help her. “Come on, girl, run!” he
shouted.
                Jeffrey
reached through the hole for her and she made it, he grabbed her hands and
pulled, but three corpses got a hold of her legs.
                “Please,
don’t let go!” she cried out to him.
                Jeffrey
pulled with all his might, but the dead stenches wouldn’t let her go, and then
they tore into her skin, tearing her flesh apart.
                “You
fucking bastards!” Jeffrey screamed but he wouldn’t let her go.
                The
dead tore at her waist, ripping off her pants, their discolored nails cracked
and some broke off as they dug into her buttocks, tearing the flesh down her
legs to the bone. Her screams were deafening, and she was beyond help, Jeffrey had
no choice but let go. Several of them brought her down and enveloped their
meal.
                Jeffrey
got the cart, plugged the hole and leaned against it. “You fucking bastards.”
He said in out of breath anger.
                People
manned all four of the barricades—they needed to physically hold the
carts and equipment from the undead that tried to force their way in—they
had some of the carts tied together, but they only had torn material from the
seats to use and no actual rope.
                Paul
spied some of the passengers, many had been bit or scratched and probably most
of them had no idea what that meant, and then they did as a loud screech pierced
their ranks; a teenage boy that had been bit on the shoulder was now sprinting
directly at Paul with the intent to kill him.
                No
one was close to help him with the mutant, so Paul readied the bloodied bottle
of champagne that he had, he raised it above his head and cocked his bicep
muscle to fire. The boy was almost in range, but it was just a boy , Paul thought, this was someone’s son.
His parents had to be somewhere onboard because he was too young to travel
alone and then Paul saw his mother—behind the running boy was a woman
sitting in a seat with her throat ripped open—the boy was almost right on
him, he waited too long to strike, the boy would have at him, but then it was
stopped cold by Jeffrey, he had grabbed the boy by the arm. The dead boy swung
around to attack him, but couldn’t when Richard got a hold of his other arm,
immobilizing him. “Go ahead, Paul, put the little bastard out of his misery.”
Richard told him.
                Paul
reluctantly stepped up to the child, who immediately lost interest in his
captors and focused on him. It wanted him badly. Its eyes were wide
searchlights that had him.
                They
had to have him…
                Paul
looked at it with compassion and then…
                “I’m
sorry,” he said. He brought down the bottle two-fisted and when it impacted
into the boy’s forehead. In Paul’s mind he saw its skin come loose from the
bone and ripple like a shockwave.
                Blood
and brain matter splattered over the three of them.
                “Nicely
done, proper,” Jeffrey said in a callous tone.
                They
dropped the limp corpse, and Jeffrey took the bottle from Paul. “Let us borrow
this for a minute,” he stated after the fact.
                Jeffrey
walked over to the boy’s mother, who was showing signs of undead life, and
bashed her skull in. He walked back to Paul and handed him the bottle. “Thanks,
mate.”
                Paul
looked at the bottle in his hand that dripped gobs of blood. Blood usually made
him nauseous, but he was way past that now, he wasn’t even numb. He was just there as if he were having an O.B.E.—out
of body experience—just watching the banality of the carnage that he
participated in. He