Free The Hunger (Book 1): Devoured by Jason Brant

“Don’t let me fall.”
    “I won’t.” He guided them around the deceased in a wide arc, avoiding congealing blood on the floor. The smell had worsened in the few minutes he was gone and the entire room reeked of spoiled meat.
    He angled her toward the doors, warning her not to turn around while he pried the exit open again. “Go through.”
    After she went by, Lance cast one last glimpse into the hospital, hoping he was making the right decision.
    Death held sway in the building—but what waited for them outside?

Chapter 7
    ––––––––
    T hey found Don and Liz hiding behind a large F150.
    Her head rested on his shoulder, their fingers interlocked. Slow, deep breaths came from them as they relaxed together, whispering quietly back and forth, eyes closed. The rifle sat on Don’s lap.
    Lance stared at them for several seconds, swallowing the ball of rage forming in his gut, before nudging Liz’s shoe with his foot.
    “Time to move.”
    She started, eyes popping open, free hand grabbing Don’s bicep. “What?”
    “We can’t stay here.” Lance nodded to their newest companions. “This is Ashlee and Teddy.”
    Don stood, stretching his arms, acting as if nothing had happened. “You brought a baby? How the hell are we going to get out of here with a baby?”
    Lance snapped his fingers. “You’re right, Don. I should have left the infant back there.”
    They locked eyes, neither turning away, before Ashlee spoke up. “We won’t be a burden, I promise. I can keep up.”
    “What do you think, Don? Should we just lay the baby on the concrete right here? Wish it good luck?” Lance kept picturing Don and Liz holding hands and felt his anger building. He had more important things to worry about, like staying alive, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been had somehow.
    “Fuck you, Lance.”
    Lance stepped forward, glaring up at Don, thinking about throwing a punch, when the glass doors separating the garage from the hospital shattered.
    “Get behind the truck!” Lance grabbed Ashlee by the arm and pulled her along. They ducked by the headlights, peering over the hood.
    A half dozen soldiers ran through the broken doors. They sprinted down the ramp, heading straight for the back of the F150. Two of them were covered in blood and gore, but they moved well, so Lance guessed it wasn’t theirs.
    Doctor Brown followed them, lagging behind with Eifort in tow. His white coat was maroon.
    Eifort’s gas mask was gone, exposing her soft features. She appeared younger than Lance had initially pegged her for—maybe thirty.
    The first group of soldiers banked right, following the exit signs that led to a stairwell.
    “Doc,” Lance whispered as Brown jogged by the truck. “Over here.”
    Eifort lifted her weapon, swinging it around until she locked on Lance’s face. “You!”
    “Come on! Hurry up!” Doctor Brown waved them out. He kept looking over his shoulder as he waited for them. “They might be following us.”
    Lance stepped on a sharp rock as he followed Ashlee and had to bite his lip to keep from shouting obscenities. He needed to find a pair of shoes.
    And some pants.
    “Where did you get those guns?” Eifort asked as she lowered her own.
    “From the soldiers just inside the door there. One of those... things killed them.”
    “We should talk about this outside where it’ll be safer,” Brown said.
    “Lead the way, Doc.” Lance gave Don one last glare before falling in line behind the doctor. He watched for rocks as they walked, his feet and shins sore.
    They approached the stairwell when one of the shrieks came from somewhere behind them. The echoes of the parking garage made it impossible to judge the distance it came from. Lance didn’t turn to look for it, running to the door instead, holding it open and waving everyone through. He slammed the door shut and followed behind, finger caressing the trigger of his rifle.
    “Hurry!”
    Ashlee took her hand from the baby’s