First Wave (The Travis Combs Post-Apocalypse Thrillers) by JT Sawyer Read Free Book Online

spare clothes and stowing them in the middle
of his pack. He could hear the approaching shuffle of creatures by the house. He
grabbed his pack and then stowed the crate under his arm. Once outside, he placed
it alongside the propane tank beside the house. Then he sprinted to the cement
mound as Katy was climbing down.
    Travis paused at the top with Katy a few feet below
him. “What are you doing? We have to go,” she said.
    “Buying us some time. I’m not about to have those
things joining us below. Get moving and give me a holler when you are down all
the way.” Travis rested his arms on the rim of the cement foundation then
pulled out the Glock and settled the night sights on the underside of the cylindrical
propane tank next to the dynamite. He strained his ears towards the barn, then
heard the abrasive sound of footsteps scraping the ground and crashing through
the bushes. The mass of undead figures began filtering into his peripheral
vision as he eased his finger on the trigger. The wretched creatures were
stammering through the house and along the porch, while others entered the barn.
    “Travis, we’re all good down here,” said Katy. He
pulled one hand off the pistol and wrapped it around the first step of the
ladder by his chest. Then he focused the sight on the propane tank as forty rotting
corpses swarmed around the back of the barn towards him. His finger pressed
back fully on the trigger. The propane tank ignited and then the dynamite,
rocking Travis back as he ducked into the shaft, gripping the wrought-iron step.
An orange mushroom cloud of heat swept over the entrance while dust, metal, body
parts, and wood shrapnel flew through the air. When it was past, and the orange
glow diminished slightly, he tucked the Glock in his belt and clambered down
the steps.   

Chapter 7
     
    Travis followed behind Katy as they pushed through
the sinuous passage in a partial squat, continually ducking under low, hanging
rock protrusions. They could see the faint glow of headlamps ahead where the
rest of the group was huddled in a small chamber.
    As the two of them rejoined the group, Travis
turned, raised the Winchester rifle and peered back, scanning the tunnel
entrance where a faint orange light, from the fire above, was emanating. Except
for the sound of muffled exhalations, the group was silent and stared intently beyond
Travis’s form, down the earthen passage.
    After listening intently for any sound coming from the
tunnel entrance, Travis pivoted back towards the group, his boots grinding on the
fine grit of the rock surface. The look on everyone’s face was one of
exhaustion coupled with terror. Evelyn was planted on the ground resting
against the chamber wall panting. LB had his hand on the .45 pistol tucked in
his belt, while casting a penetrating gaze into the dark tunnel beyond Travis. Pete
was sitting cross-legged adjusting his headlamp. Katy paused long enough
between breaths to take a sip of water, and then splashed some on her face, the
drops prancing off the hard ground. Jim was sitting beside Becka who was
scrunched against the lime colored rock wall with her arms around her legs. Jim
kept casting a sideways glance at the young girl and then fiddling with the
zippers on his pack.
    Travis knelt down and eased the grip off the weapon.
Retrieving a water bottle from his pack, he swigged down some cool liquid and
screwed the cap back on with fingers encrusted with dirt. He shuffled up to the
center of the chamber closer to the group and turned so he could see the
entrance from whence he came.
    “Look, we’ve have had a helluva reentry into
civilization and are all frazzled,” he paused, scanning back down the entrance,
then taking a moment to look each person in the eye before beginning again. “These
tunnels are our best option at present. We’ll rest for a few minutes and then
keep moving. I know this isn’t the kinda day you had in mind but I’ve seen your
toughness on the river and I know if