Read Scavengers: July for Free Online

killing so many undead.
    “Well, I imagine it must be very tedious?” said Ira, with a trace of humor in his tone.
    “Y... yes,” James stuttered a bit, feeling the mockery in his voice, but going forward with his obvious, big, fat lie. It was strange how little it bothered him how much Ira saw, now that he knew anyway. “A man needs a lot of good morality in him, to deal with this kind of obscenity.”
    Ira sighed, lighting his pipe and breathing in the sweet smoke of tobacco. “True, true. One could hardly believe what some chaps daydream about when closing their mouths around the bit of a pipe.”
    At these words, James’ imagination ran wild, especially as he was kneeling in front of the man. “Yes...” he said finally, thinking of his own devious mind. “Men cannot be trusted.” He continued sorting through the drawings. It was hard to decide on some of them, but he knew the decision had to be swift. The ones he wanted, ended up in a sturdy suitcase with a lock.
    Ira let out a short laugh before gazing at a large window. The room’s walls were covered with bookshelves and thick wooden panels in the same color, making it seem smaller and cozier than it was. Some family portraits and a sculpture of Apollo on a small, round table in the corner were the primary decorations. Of course, the servants had probably taken some of James' possessions as he could not locate them.
    “That’s true,” said Ira, relaxing by the window. He took a few steps towards it, looking out and cursed quietly. “There are more of’em.”
    “Fuck,” said James bluntly and instantly felt guilty that changing the subject, even to one as horrible as the undead, relieved him. He locked the suitcase once he packed the drawings into it and adjusted a special strap, so that he could have it hanging across his body. He still felt a blush on his cheeks, but looked out the window to see what Ira was talking about. He was telling the truth. A group of zombies was moving through the overgrown lawn at the back of the mansion. If that were not worrisome enough, the main door to the room started squeaking loudly, as if pushed from the other side. They immediately looked back at it and saw the two doors repeatedly bending slightly in the middle. A faint sound of growling was audible behind them.
    Ira sighed, looking him straight in the eyes. “There was a ladder to the roof somewhere here on the blueprint,” he began thoughtfully. He must had been in such situations numerous times before to keep this kind of calm, “Was it in this room or the one with no door?” he asked, showing the no-longer-secret door with his pipe.
    James breathed heavily, trying to control his nervousness, but each violent sound ruined his composure. “It is this window actually” he said, moving to open it. Surprisingly, the glass was still intact. Ira shoved him aside, kneeling on the windowpane and looking outside, where the metal ladder was. Back in the day, it was used by chimney-sweepers, but now it could serve a much more important purpose. Ira leaned over, grabbing it and pulling vigorously, probably to test if the ladder was still reliable and solid enough to support a grown man. He turned to look at James. “You go first. I'll catch ya case somethin’ 'appens,” he promised, his dark eyes very serious.
    “Do you want me to go towards the barn?” James asked, slowly stepping out onto the ledge of the window. His legs felt weak as he looked down, registering both the height and the more dreadful consequence of a potential fall: the hungry undead. The barn was where his father hid a massive part of his mother's jewelry. It was the best they could think of in the havoc of everyone running for their lives.
    “Just wait for me in a safe spot,” answered Ira hurriedly, grabbing his wrist for support, “Don't fall.”
    James nodded and went for it. For a split second, he was sure the ladder would fall and bring him to his death. As nothing like this happened,