Into the Badlands by Brian J. Jarrett Read Free Book Online

muscles. In the background she heard Trey still screaming in pain. She picked the knife up, then crawled back toward the screaming man on the floor. The door didn't open and no one rushed in; they were still alone.
    As she reached Trey she raised the knife above her head, preparing to drive it into his chest, but his fist connected with the side of her head before she could deliver the blow. He was weak from pain and it had little force, but it caught cleanly enough to knock her off balance and onto the floor. She retrained her grip on the knife, despite the fall.
    Trey then rolled to his stomach, attempting to get up, his pants still around his ankles. Blood dripped to the floor from his lacerated penis. Trish recovered, then jumped on his back, forcing him to the ground. She drove the knife into his back as hard as she could, twisting it as she did. Blood began to pour from the wound, soaking his clothing and running onto the floor. Trey screamed again, louder than ever.
    Trish pulled the knife out, then drove it into his back again. Then again, and again. She cried as she stabbed. She lost count of how many times she stabbed him before he stopped screaming. He made sticky drowning sounds as the blood poured into his punctured lungs then pooled on the floor around his body.
    Eventually she stopped stabbing. Then she stopped crying. She looked down at her captor then pulled the knife out. The blade made a slurpy, sucking sound as she removed it from his soggy back. Then she stabbed him one more time for good measure.
    She'd done it. The bastard was dead.
    Now it was time to get out of there.
    She picked herself up and her head swam. She fell down, dizzy, then got back up again. Pain roared through her head from a combination of dehydration and the impact of the knife blade. She had to move quickly if she wanted to get out alive. Blood continued to run down her face from the blunt force wound on her head. She once again wiped it from her eyes.
    She took the knife she used to kill Trey, then used it to cut through the bindings around her wrists. Once free, she grabbed some pants, socks, and boots, putting them on her naked body as quickly as possible. It was difficult just bending over. She was unable to locate a backpack or bag, but she found a pillowcase that would suffice. She filled it with as many canned goods as she thought she could carry. She then filled two canteens from the shelf with water, slinging the straps over her shoulders, and pulled on a coat from a hanger on the wall.
    Along with Tim's ring they also took her gun. It was nowhere to be found so she rushed to Trey's body, searching for a replacement. Apparently he couldn't be trusted by the others to carry one, or she just couldn't locate it. Either way she came up empty.
    The door remained closed. She hurried as quickly as she could, but she felt as if she was moving in slow motion. She was so weak and malnourished that everything was an incredible effort. She grabbed the pillowcase and attempted to lift it; it was too heavy. She pulled out some cans in order to make the bag transportable
    She then slung the pillowcase over her bony shoulder and looked down at the corpse on the floor. She spat a mixture of saliva and blood on it. “Fuck you, Trey,” she said, picking up the knife. She turned toward the door to leave.
    Then, from the other side of the door, she heard the sound of another door opening, followed by footsteps.

CHAPTER 5

    As the hatchet struck the carrier's good leg, Dave turned his head to avoid contact with any blood spatter. The blade connected solidly above the thing's exposed ankle, separating the skin and stopping when it hit bone. The carrier shrieked with terrible ferocity as the hatchet sliced the skin and muscle. With both legs now unable to support its weight it tumbled headfirst to the bottom of the steps, striking the concrete floor squarely with its shoulder. Dave heard a loud crunch as the thing's collarbone snapped upon