Free Green Fields (Book 2): Outbreak by Adrienne Lecter Page A

follow the others. After hours spent with my heart racing, one might have thought that I was slowly getting used to it, but—if anything—that just made it worse as we crept across the field, pausing briefly before traversing a small, unpaved road and continuing on across unmowed, high grass. I told myself to relax when nothing jumped us right away, but that was impossible to accomplish.
    Then the grass evened out into a lawn, and I realized that we must now be in someone’s backyard. Up ahead I could see several dark shapes looming—houses and a barn, if I wasn’t completely wrong. Judging from the smell, there should have been horses somewhere around, but I didn’t hear a single neigh or snort.  
    Guess juicy human wasn’t the only thing on the menu.
    My fingers were itching to get one of my bats ready, but when I moved as if to take off my pack, Andrej was right there. “You run. We fight.” I opened my mouth to protest—although, really? Considering they all had rifles and handguns while I carried two freaking baseball bats made me kind of happy that no one expected me to join the fray—but Andrej whispered right over my protest. “We’ll be faster knowing that you take care of yourself and won’t lag behind. If we run into an obstacle, you take off ahead, and we’ll follow. You only fight if you can’t run anymore.” That reminded me awfully much of the guy we’d lost while crossing the bridge, but I did my best to disband that mental image.  
    We remained hunkered down at the edge of the lawn for maybe five minutes before the guy taking point sprinted across the open space until he disappeared into the shadows by the barn. Nate waited maybe ten more seconds before he took off, and the same pattern repeated itself with the other guy. Then it was my turn. Vaulting away from the ground, I forced my legs to run at full speed, even if it felt like barely more than a lumbering walk to me, my pack bouncing on my back. As I drew closer to the barn, I could see the others crouching low toward the front edge, looking out over the next open space to the main house. Panting heavily with my pulse beating a deafening staccato in my ears, I sank down next to Nate, my entire body shaking with tension.
    Why had I ever thought it was a good idea not to run ten miles every morning, just in case I’d ever need to run for my life?
    Andrej had barely crouched down behind me when guy number one took off again, slinking across the yard until he hunkered down near the front corner of the house. He looked around briefly, then waved, and Nate followed him. Again we went through the same spiel, and this time I didn’t need Andrej’s signal to know when to start.
    After the corner of the house came an abandoned tractor, followed by a rickety carport. Beyond, I could already see the main road at the end of a snaking driveway. It was dark enough that everything beyond our short sprint distances was hard to make out, even in the silvery moonlight, but I didn’t need to see well.
    Because now I could hear them.
    Feet—too many to count—shuffling along. The irregular scratching of clothing against clothing. The occasional moan or grunt, interspersed by huffing chuffs, and as I listened on, a howl followed by more agitated sounds before they died down again. While it didn’t sound like quite so many as we’d seen before from above, there were still plenty of them out and about—but then a single one would have been one too many.
    I expected some kind of weighing of options now, but as soon as Andrej got here, the first guy took off again. He started down the driveway, but then suddenly stopped, hunkering down in the grass beside the road. Endless seconds ticked by before he continued, slower now, making sure to remain on the grass. When Nate finally followed, he avoided the road altogether, and I realized that the crunching of the gravel must have alerted the zombies.
    And then it was my turn. Unlike before, I didn’t dash