Read Survival Paranoia (Survival series) for Free Online

forward. But if wishes were horses… She shook her head and moved into the hallway. The rest of the expression didn’t matter. They may not have horses, but they had an old, ugly station wagon, and that would have to be good enough.
    Jeff wasn’t where she’d left him. Terror shook her to the core as she jumped over the gory remains without looking at them again, but she relaxed when she saw him curled up in the armchair in the corner, a pile of clothes at his feet. It was his go-to comfort place, the spot where he sat and did his homework, where he ate his meals. It was a place he’d sat countless times in her memories, and she wished they could take a piece of that comfort and security with them.
    “Come on, Jeff,” she said softly, not wanting to start le him. He looked up at her with dull, red-rimmed eyes. She steeled herself, knowing she couldn’t indulge in pity at the moment. Right now they needed to get moving before something else nasty wandered in to keep them company. Later they could grieve, but now it was a luxury and time was of the essence. “We have to get out of here,” she said, gently but without doubt.
    Jeff said nothing, merely stood stiffly and nodded. He picked up his clothing and put on his gear before walking to the front door, his movements robotic and slow. She knew he was hurting, but it would all be for nothing if they died here in his childhood Hell. He opened the door and stepped outside, shutting it behind him automatically. Lorna shook her head before following him. She stood with one hand on the knob, and then a thought occurred to her. Sighing heavily, she turned back to his favorite chair and drew her knife. Working quickly, she kneeled and slit a hole in the fabric, wincing at the loud sound of shredding material. She tore free a long strip and shoved it into her pocket before standing. Then she picked up the midnight blue decorative pillow from the chair and tucked it under one arm. It wouldn’t weigh them down for him to have a pillow from home… not while they had a vehicle, at least.
    This time Lorna opened the door and stepped into the bright light. She squinted an d walked to the end of the porch, wincing at the glare, coming to a jarring halt when she bumped into something. Fighting to open her eyes and see through the brightness, she took in the sight of Jeff’s back. She thought he was waiting for her before going to the station wagon, but then she followed his gaze and sighed. The beat-up station wagon was surrounded by Jeff’s neighbors… and the dead all appeared to be hungry.

NINE
    Their first night was spent in the back of the station wagon. They’d gotten a mere thirty miles away, nowhere near either of their homes, before pulling into a development. They’d scouted nearby homes and found one that had only one person in it… or rather, what used to be a person. Jeff took it out with a knife he’d snatched from the butcher block on the island in the kitchen of the house. Then they’d lifted the garage door manually, as it seemed the electricity was out here as well. Working together, they’d pushed the station wagon inside so the sound of the engine didn’t draw more attention. They didn’t speak that night, but had crawled between the seats and stretched out in the back. Lorna used her pile of clothes as a pillow, while Jeff laid his head on the pillow she’d snatched up on her way out of his trailer. He’d held it the whole ride like a talisman, the only comfort object he had to tether him to the world he’d once taken for granted.
    He fell asleep quickly as though to escape what the last few days had brought. Lorna, on the other hand, stared wide-eyed at the dull grey interior of the station wagon and burned with a low resentment. Things hadn’t been easy for her, either, but she wasn’t burying her head in the sand and hoping to forget. She didn’t want to carry him along. She wanted him to man up. Jeff had always been the one convinced the