Book of the Dead by John Skipp, Craig Spector (Ed.) Read Free Book Online Page B

with the missing fingers. Teeth snapped at her, scraping the skin above her right knee. Jean jerked her leg back and shot it forward. The girl’s teeth crashed shut. Then Jean was off her, rising on the crutch of the broken limb.
    She stood up straight, hugging the upright limb, lifting its broken end off the ground and staggering forward a few steps to get herself out of the girl’s reach.
    And saw the others coming. All but the rotted skeletal girl who had no arms and still lay sprawled between the Reaper’s legs.
    “No!” Jean shouted. “Leave me alone!”
    They lurched toward her.
    The charred one held the Reaper’s severed arm like a club. The breastless girl with runny skin wore both his boots. Her arms were raised, already reaching for Jean though she was still a few yards away. The rock thrower had found a rock. The skinned girl aswarm with maggots picked at herself with the pliers as she shambled closer.
    “NO!” Jean yelled again.
    She ducked, grabbed the limb low, hugged it to her side and whirled as the branchy top of it swept down in front of her. It dropped from its height slashing sideways, its bony fingers of wood clattering and bursting into twigs as it crashed through the cadavers. Three of them were knocked off their feet. A fourth, the charred one, lurched backward to escape the blow, stepped into the Reaper’s torso, and stumbled. Jean didn’t see whether she went down, because the weight of the limb was hurling her around in a full circle. A branch struck the face of the scalped girl crawling toward her, popped, and flew off. Then the crawling girl was behind Jean again and the others were still down. All except the rock thrower. She’d been missed, first time around. Out of range. Now her arm was cocked back, ready to hurl a small block of stone.
    Jean, spinning, released the limb.
    Its barkless wood scraped her side and belly.
    It flew from her like a mammoth, tined lance.
    Free of its pull, Jean twirled. The rock flicked her ear. She fell to her knees. Facing the crawler. Who scurried toward her moaning as if she already knew she had lost.
    Driving both fists against the ground, Jean pushed herself up. She took two quick steps toward the crawler and kicked her in the face. Then she staggered backward. Whirled around.
    The rock thrower was down, arms batting through the maze of dead branches above her.
    The others were starting to get up.
    Jean ran through them, cuffed hands high, twisting and dodging as they scurried for her, lurched at her, grabbed.
    Then they were behind her. All but the Reaper and the armless thing sprawled between his legs, chewing on him. Gotta get the handcuff key , she thought.
    Charging toward them, she realized the cuffs didn’t matter. They couldn’t stop her from driving. The car key was in the ignition.
    She leaped the Reaper.
    And staggered to a stop on the other side of his body.
    Gasping, she bent over and lifted a rock from the ring around the fire. Though its heat scorched her hands, she raised it overhead. She turned around.
    The corpses were coming, crawling and limping closer.
    But they weren’t that close.
    “HERE’S ONE FOR NUMBER EIGHT!” she shouted, and smashed the rock down onto the remains of the Reaper’s face. It struck with a wet, crunching sound. It didn’t roll off. It stayed on his face as if it had made a nest for itself.
    Jean stomped on it once, pounding it in farther.
    Then she swung around. She leaped the fire and dashed through the clearing toward the waiting car.
     
     

BY RAMSEY CAMPBELL
     
    They could be on their summer holidays. If they were better able to afford one than he was, Bright wished them luck. Now that it was daylight, he could see into all the lowest rooms of the high rise opposite, but there was no sign of life on the first two floors. Perhaps all the tenants were singing the hymns he could hear somewhere in the suburb. He took his time about making himself presentable, and then he went downstairs.
    The