Read The Dead Series (Book 3): Dead Line for Free Online Page B

for expired souls to go. If Heaven was more than just some fucking idiot's idea of a practical joke. How all of those ghost pictures and Youtube videos could possibly be fake or just trickery of the light.
    There had to be some truth to it all. Shane had heard once that all myths stem from somewhere, that mermaids , and Bigfoot, and El-Chupacabra had to, in some form, have existed. People didn't just sit down, draw a few pictures and start a rumour – at least not before the age of the internet. Those ancient mythologies were based on something, and ghosts, spirits, the afterlife and Heaven, in all its glory, were as real as those bastard dead things howling up at the moon right now.
    'I'm going to get some rest upstairs,' Shane said, tossing his water-bottle into the air and catching it. 'See how many are out there.'
    It didn't matter, really. The ones that were out there now would have moved on by morning, and there could be a helluva lot less or a shit-load more by first light.
    'See you in the morning.' Terry gave Shane a three-finger salute that would have been comical under other circumstances.
    Shane headed up, hoping that sleep would grab him and pull him down into its welcome embrace.
    He could only hope.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SIX
     
     
     
     
    The stench of putrefaction lingering in the air didn't bother the lurkers shambling about out front. It was a fetor that belonged to them, a result of their rotting flesh and gaping wounds. Several of them were gathered around the half-devoured corpse of an unfortunate white-tailed deer. It had stumbled into the horde at just after midnight, and by one it had been reduced to a hollowed-out shape that would have been indeterminable if it wasn't for the unmistakeable architecture of its antlers up near the faceless remains. One of the lurkers had been stupid enough to impale its face upon the jagged horns, but not enough to kill it. It had spent the majority of the morning flailing around, trying to unhook its eye-socket from the right antler and now, with one false move, it accidentally slipped and fell forward onto the horn, which penetrated right through to the calamitous lurker's brain and put an end to its misery.
    The lurkers eating from the deer's wide-open belly didn't even flinch; they were too busy feasting on strings of intestines that had been pulled out. Everything else was gone, but the intestine took a lot longer to get through.
    The sun was above the trees now and by the end of the day it would melt the remaining slush and ice from the previous week's blizzard. It was cold, but nowhere near as inclement as it had been. Trees dripped as the thaw continued; occasionally, an icicle would drop from the edge of the museum-roof and shatter on the path below. Lurkers would turn in hungry anticipation, then return to whatever aimless business they were embroiled in, disappointed that the promise of fresh flesh had been so short-lived.
    Birds chirruped up in their nests; it was almost as if they were aware of their own private sanctuary amongst the branches. Lurkers couldn't climb trees, and even if they were able to, birds simply wouldn't cut it as a satisfactory meal. Sure, if one was injured or fell out of its nest, a creature would waste no time at all in chawing through its tiny broken form, but they wouldn't actively pursue a bird for its flesh.
    Bigger animals, like the white-tailed deer strewn out on the museum lawn, were a different story altogether. Lurker numbers were integral to the hunt, and ten or a dozen of them was more than enough to corner and mortally wound a large beast.
    And once they had it down, it was pretty much all over.
    The horde didn't see the attack coming; the ones that were eating were way too busy to notice the four people emerging from the double-doors at the front of the museum.
    River, who had been psyching herself up all morning for the battle, came charging out