Free Strain of Resistance (Book 1) by Michelle Bryan

snack. Both leech heads swivel in unison, following his descent. Before they can make a move on him though, shots from behind take them both down. Kingsley doesn't wait for any accolades. He and his men disappear into the alley, and I hear more shots as they find the latecomers to the party.
    I spin around quickly, blades ready for their next target, but nothing else seems to be standing other than us. Lowering my knives, I let my shoulders relax and even out my breathing. My eyes automatically search for Luke, checking if he’s okay. He leaps nimbly to his feet, sending a quick nod at my unspoken question. Mollified, I search for the rest of my crew. Badger and Cal are busy retrieving our backpacks from where we’d dropped them, but Gordon is running my way and grinning like an idiot. His classic double take when he sees me, hits me right in the funny bone.
    "Err, you’ve got a little something gross on your face there, Bix." He points weakly at his own cheek.
    I laugh and wipe absentmindedly at my face with my sleeve.
    "How many did you take down?" I question, knowing full well that’s the cause of his excitement.
    "Six," he answers cockily, looking down at the ground. "And you had what? Three? Really, Bix? That's pitiful."
    Cal and Badger join us. The new guy looks slightly shell-shocked and I kind of feel sorry for him. Besides his training, this is probably his first real encounter with a horde. Not something he will easily forget.
    "You did good," I say, as I slap him on the shoulder and relieve him of my pack. My next comment is aimed at Gordon.
    "You too, kid. But the night’s only young, so don't be cocky. Come on, let’s catch up with Kingsley. Can't let him have all the fun now, can we?"
    Cal appears a little taken aback at our nonchalant attitude, but I don’t take offense.  He’ll come to the realization soon enough. If you think about it too much, it’ll eat you alive. That’s if they don’t eat you first. So you don’t think about it- you just do it. We leave him staring after us, mouth agape as my fellow ginger and I hurry off, giggling like two giddy school girls.
    If I had any reservations left about Kingsley and his men joining us in the field, they're now laid to rest. We find them casually sitting on a crumbled stone wall, looking like they’ve nothing better to do than smoke Jonesy's crap ass cigs. Eight or more leech carcasses are piled up in the street.
    "About time you showed up," Kingsley says, flicking the lit ember away and jumping down off the wall.
    "Well, don't look like you needed our help," Luke drawls slowly as we look over the carnage.
    "No, didn't need your help, but do need your opinion on something. Take a look at those leeches ...what do you see?"
    The moon has finally won its battle with the clouds. After walking in darkness all night, this glow is almost as bright as early morning.
    "I see a bunch of dead fucks, is what I see," Dom says in his best bored voice and I turn on him with an irritated glare. He’d best not think I've forgotten his almost shooting me back there.
    Kingsley's response is a bit more civilized.
    "Look again," he says calmly enough, but I pick up on the strain in his voice. It worries me. So I look closer, as do the others. Luke is the first to notice.
    "Their clothing. It's not ripped apart and filthy like they’ve been wearing it for the past eight years. It's still in decent condition like..."
    "Like they've only recently been infected. Very recently. By the condition of their clothes, probably just days ago I'm guessing."
    I stare at Kingsley like I didn't quite hear right.
    "But... that's impossible. I mean, the infections all happened that very first day. I haven't seen or heard of anyone who survived the first day being taken over after. I figured—we all figured—if you weren't infected the first day, you were immune somehow."
    "That was the general consensus, yes. But something’s changed. There's no way this bunch have been playing host