Read The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End for Free Online

three blocks or more when I started it up; no v8 engine I ever heard ran quiet. Nothing for it, though. Once I was moving, I could just run down any of the bastards between here and I-70. Few things could stop an old-school Bronco once it was at speed, and the over-sized winter tires would keep the big vehicle on the road. And it was a hell of a lot better than walking.
     
    I was as ready as I would ever be.
     
    The first roar of the engine overwhelmed the noise of the big garage door going up, and I rocketed out, the tall radio mast barely clearing the door, even tied back as it was. I didn’t see the first zombie I hit, but bits and brains flew over the windshield as I smashed into it somewhere around the sidewalk and turned out into the street.
     
    I tried to remember the clearest path from my house to the Interstate, given all the abandoned cars and other obstructions on the roads. I’d almost made it to the intersection of Roland and Main, where I was tempted to turn, when I heard what could only be a helicopter overhead. What the hell is a helicopter doing in Fall Creek? I wondered as I slowed and checked for zombies, then stopped and stuck my head out the window.
     
    The moonlight glinted off the side of a Blackhawk helicopter as it banked low over the ten or fifteen old buildings the visitor’s bureau referred to as “Historic Downtown Fall Creek.” Army insignia were visible on the side of the craft as it headed in the general direction of the town hall, and I assumed it would be landing in the main square.
     
    That’s my ticket out , I thought as I rolled the window back up and began moving that way. Just like that, all my plans had changed. I just have to get there. Somehow. Through a hundred or more zombies that all want to have me for a late supper.
     
    I stopped about half a mile away from downtown, making sure the coast was clear before I parked next to an alley with a fire escape. I got out and grabbed the duffel with all my clothes, some food, and ammo. I wouldn’t need the camp stove or sleeping bag. If it turned out these guys were no good, I could always come back here and head back for the interstate. The duffel went on my back, along with the rifle. Pistol in its holster, I climbed onto the roof of the Bronco and grabbed the fire escape ladder just as I saw the first zombie come around the corner, drawn by the rumble of the big V8. Timing was everything, I guess.
     
    I moved across the roofs of the downtown shopping district quietly and quickly. Fortunately, there were only minor gaps between them, and I lucked out in finding a loose board from one of the signs that I could extend across the larger spaces. Taking it with me each time, I was able to make my way toward the main square.
     
    I dropped and crawled to the edge of the building near the main square, then slowly peeked over the edge. It seemed like a standard Army camp, at least from what I’d seen in movies. There were a couple temporary helipads chalked onto the asphalt, and some tents set up, their sides rolled up to provide ventilation to the scientists working beneath them. I could see a few random flashes of gunfire from the barricades they had set up; the zombies were being drawn by the noise of all the personnel, but were coming to the barricades in dribs and drabs, a few at a time.
     
     
    I was done with Fall Creek now. I’d seen and done things in the last few hours that I had never thought possible, and I moved back, taking the first fire escape down to the nearest alley, crouching around the corner in the few shadows that were left as the sun began to rise. I hoped that these Army guys would be able to get me out of here.
     
    Beyond the makeshift barricades — a few cars pushed together here and there, and a city bus blocking one street — there were at least two choppers, their blades turning as the Army personnel moved back and forth around their fortifications.
     
    The problem was that I had no idea what sort