Free Chloe Zombie Apocalypse series (Book 3): Chloe (A New World) by Ryan Casey

what they’d come for in this building right ahead.
    Kyle took a deep breath. Nodded. He followed Laura inside the nursery. Beside the door, a man crouched with his guts in his arms. Garth, he was called. He looked like he’d been shot leaving this place, walking away from it. Rest in peace, Garth. Thanks for fighting for the good cause.
    Kyle kept on following Laura inside the nursery. And as he moved into it, he wondered if perhaps he could get away with squinting. With narrowing his eyes so he wouldn’t see as much in front of him. He’d done it before. Done it when he was a kid and his parents died in the fire. Done it when beating up Kimmy Harper back in high school, his friends all egging him on to do it, but him not really wanting to.
    But not being able to stop the violence inside him.
    Not being able to stop himself from ramming that fake Rockport boot into her chest.
    Again.
    Again.
    Again.
    He’d spent a whole lifetime of squinting when there was something ahead of him he knew he wouldn’t really like to see.
    He knew that now was the time to stop squinting.
    The tiled floor of the nursery was covered in blood. Dark blood. Thick blood. Again, not like the kind you see in the films. Not that thin stuff that trickles out your nose when your allergies kick in. Not like any of those at all.
    This was proper blood.
    As Kyle looked around the room, he realised where the bulk of the blood came from. It made the taste of vomit intensify in his mouth, not helped by the faint smell of metallic blood filling the air.
    This nursery. This nursery was so quiet. Too quiet for a nursery.
    When he looked at the cots, he saw exactly why.
    He couldn’t help himself any longer. He leaned forward. Puked up his guts—the little that was inside them—all over the floor. Strong, acidic stomach acid burned his throat. A cheesy taste from breakfast he’d had just this morning covered his lips, made him want to vomit even more.
    “Jesus Christ,” Laura said. “You really want to get that queasy shit sorted out, brother.”
    Kyle wiped his lips. “Dead kids. And you’re walking around here like it’s just normal. I’d say it’s you that needs to get something sorting out.”
    “Don’t pretend for one minute you’re innocent in this.”
    “I don’t. And neither should you.”
    Laura turned. Smiled at Kyle. “I never do.”
    The smile on her face—a smile he’d seen on his sister’s face throughout their lives—made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Kyle had always had worries about his sister. Concerns about her. It started with the bedwetting. Some rumour he heard from a friend about psychos wetting the bed. Serial killers.
    Kyle never really thought much of it until he found his sister snipping the feet off her pet hamsters.
    “The girl,” Kyle said, changing the subject. “Is she there?”
    Laura walked to the foot of a cot. Stopped opposite it. Stared inside. “What do you think?”
    Kyle shook his head. “Fuck.”
    “Just keep your shit together. She’s a baby. Not many people knew about her. She can’t have gone far.”
    “We’re fucked. Without her, we’re fucked—”
    “I told you to keep your shit together, okay?”
    Kyle felt his teeth chattering. He squinted, so he wouldn’t have to look at the blood coating this room. “Those poor kids. Why did they have to die?”
    Laura shrugged, like the pair of them were doing nothing more than hypothesising about a television show. “There had to be a reason.”
    “And you think there’s a reason? A reason to… to justify this?”
    Laura walked over to Kyle. Put a hand on his shoulder. “There’s always a reason, brother. There’s always a…”
    Her eyes darted behind Kyle.
    He saw the momentary glint of anger in them.
    Then, he saw them light up.
    “I think I know who’ll be able to help us.”
    Laura stepped around Kyle. She walked towards the other side of the room.
    Kyle wasn’t sure what to expect. Wasn’t sure who he’d