Read State of Decay (Omnibus (Parts 1-4)) for Free Online Page B

quickly, until he was right on top of me. I lashed out and drove my blade right into his forehead. I whimpered as he jerked and then stilled, his body dropping to the ground.
    “Sorry, Mr. Howe,” I whispered. I glanced around hastily and then ran to the front door of my house. The door had been kicked in. I swallowed back my anger and entered the front room with my gun drawn. I made my way from room to room and quickly realized they had only been after food and supplies.
    Even knowing the house was clear, I knew I couldn’t dawdle too long. I needed to get what I came for and then leave. I headed back to my dad’s room and sat down tiredly on his bed. I picked up his pillow and held it to my nose and inhaled the scent that clung to his pillowcase. I closed my eyes and hugged the pillow to me like a lifeline. After I sat there for much too long, I stood up and began gathering the things I’d come for. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a large, black garbage bag and began in my father’s room. I added my dad’s pillow and a sturdy sheet and blanket to the bag first, followed by the last five MRE’s that were left in a box under his bed. I took out all the ammunition that was left in a storage bin under the bed and added it to the bag as well. I was relieved to find more ammo for the rifle.
    Next, I went into my room and glanced around. This was going to be the last time I would be back here for a long time—maybe ever. I grabbed my ipod out of my desk drawer and shoved it into the bag. I knew it was fully charged … so I still had a little playtime left on it. I swung open my closet and thanked the heavens above I had never been a girly-girl. I’d insisted, even when my dad protested, that my clothes and shoes be practical and even border on boyish. Since I was about to turn eighteen, he’d given up on trying to get me to wear any pink. I think he had finally realized what a waste of time it was. I grabbed a week’s worth of undergarments, socks, and one set of flannel pajamas to the bag. Next I added every single tank top I owned and then half a dozen tee shirts, two pairs of jeans, two pairs of dark cargo pants, and three long-sleeved thermal shirts and leggings. The small, compact bundle would’ve made my dad proud.
    I grabbed my dad’s dog tags and my mom’s locket off of my dresser and hung them around my neck, glad to have my most prized possessions with me again. I glanced around my room once again as I was walking out. I snagged a picture of my dad and me off of my desk and one of my mom and threw them in as well. Nothing else meant anything to me, and anything else would have been a burden to carry.
    When I went into the bathroom I just raked everything I thought might be useful into the bag … Tylenol, cold medicine, rubbing alcohol, more first aid supplies, toothpaste, lotion lip glosses, two towels and wash cloths. In the kitchen I grabbed ziplock bags and two empty water jugs. By the time I was done, my bag was bulging. But I had two more items I needed. I headed to the garage and found what I was looking for.
    When I left the house I had to move as quickly as possible, even with everything I was carrying with me. Three zombies were heading for me as soon as I came around the corner and reached the SUV. I threw my huge sack into the back and then quickly jumped into the driver’s seat before the zombies made it to me.
    I started the car, threw the Justin Bieber CD out of the window, shoved my own Flyleaf CD into the player, rolled down my window and waited for the zombies to get in range and then—just as the words “fully alive” blasted through my speakers—I put the three zombies down before I drove out of my old neighborhood, determined to make it back to the cover of the woods before it got dark.
     
     
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    W hen I pulled the SUV off the road, I was dreading getting out of it. My heart began pounding and I was sweating before I stepped out of the vehicle. I walked to the back and