Dead Winter: A gripping crime thriller full of suspense

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Book: Read Dead Winter: A gripping crime thriller full of suspense for Free Online
Authors: Jack Parker
way; two more infected. A middle-aged woman wearing a pink, blood-stained skirt was hammering her fists against the wall, which was slippery with thick red blood. She let out cries of what seemed like pain as she coughed. Could she possibly be aware of what she had become?
     
    I flipped the knife over in my hand, waiting for an opportune moment. I approached the woman, dragging my arm through the air until the blade hit skin. A cut opened, spraying blood through the air in a fine mist. Spinning around to avoid the spray, I planted the knife into the back of her head.
     
    Wrong move.
     
    The other infected turned its head around and began to dash at me. Closing my eyes, my fears rose. I expected to feel pain at any second; but heard naught by the sound of something whistling through the air. A crunch, the sound of something heavy hitting the floor.
     
    I opened my eyes just in time to witness Dave standing over the twitching figure that lay on the ground. Letting out a deep breath, he proceeded to relentlessly swing the bat at the head of the infected until it was caved in. Dave slowly walked backwards, bat still raised.
     
    Was this Office Space?
     
    Silence hung in the air for a few moments before the sound of heavy breathing filled my ears. Walking past Dave, I heard his footsteps as he followed me.
     
    Approaching the staircase, an eerie sound filled my ears and made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Dull scraping sounds could be heard from the top of the stairs, from which a trickle of blood; almost like a minute waterfall, dripped from stair to stair. With a series of thuds, the infected fell down the staircase and moved slowly towards us.
     
    It was missing half of its leg and the other lay twisted and contorted. The stench of burnt flesh made my nostrils flare as the thing crawled across the ground towards us. How this thing wasn't dead already was beyond my comprehension.
     
    Picking up a plank of wood from the floor, I closed my eyes and swung down towards it until I could hear its shouts no more. The force of the impact sent shivers down my arm.
     
    After climbing the staircase and walking into the office room, I noticed a leather jacket hung over the back of a chair. I walked over to it, swinging it through the air. Sliding my arms in, I examined myself in a mirror. It was a bit big, but would do nicely as a protective shield against the harsh cold for now.
     
    "Heh.. that actually suits you, kid." Dave remarked as I turned around to face him. This whole time, I'd only been wearing a T-shirt and a thin hoodie, I felt warmer already.
     
    The room was devoid of life as we slowly walked through it, looking from side to side. We made our way over to the window where the truck lay outside. Stepping cautiously onto the makeshift bridge, we trekked across the truck before climbing down onto the other side of the road.
     
    It had taken us five minutes to move forwards a couple of metres, I grew weary of such a slow pace.
     
    Strange warmth.
     
    A sound blasted through my ears as I felt something pass my cheek, I saw a small spark jolt out of the side of the truck; a hole appearing in the hood.
     
    "What the.." Dave uttered, looking around to determine the source of the gunshot. Finding it, we looked forwards towards the source; a barrel, grasped metal and clammy hands. A shockingly familiar cackle met my ears and I knew what we had walked into. I nudged Dave's shoulder and he shot away to the right.
     
    Dashing quickly to the left, I saw his finger contract on the trigger once more, I barely dodged the bullet this time. It was the murderer from the police evacuation preparation.
     
    I threw the blood-stained plank at the man, shifting the knife over into my right hand before breaking into a sprint. To my relief, the plank knocked the gun out of his hands. He fumbled around in his pocket, pulling out a knife that most likely slit the throat of the first police-officer.
     
    I gripped the knife

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