Life Among The Dead by Daniel Cotton Read Free Book Online Page A

against the door jam. It takes all of his might before the deceased woman loses leverage. The soldier has both hands on the window between the rooms, straining to get out of her grasp. She finally loses her grip.
    His newfound freedom sends Dan flying into the china cabinet. A cascade of porcelain falls with a crash to the hardwood flooring. The hutch itself rocks back and forth before toppling with a thud.
    Dan lies on his stomach next to the fallen cabinet. Fearfully, he looks towards the front door. Through the gap he can see the undead pedestrians have paused, now fixated on the house. Slowly they start to move towards it, drawn by the noise. He lets out a groan of despair as he pushes himself to his knees. The soldier’s leg is ensnared once again when the large woman wraps her hands around his boot.
    Dan turns in time to see she has engulfed the toe of his shoe in her mouth. He kicks and rolls but he can’t free himself from her gnawing teeth. The soldier shimmies to the wall and starts to batter her head against it with a series of savage kicks.
    “ Get off me you bitch!” He yells out of desperation. After a barrage of blows she finally falls limp. He wriggles his boot free; her mouth remains open in a silent scream. All of her teeth have been knocked back in excruciating angles.
    He hears the moaning getting closer and knows they are at the door without having to look. He runs into the kitchen, hopping over the portly corpse. He heads straight to the side door expecting to just fly out and jump the fence, but through the small window he can see the dead clog the alley.
    The zombies are in the house. The soldier catches sight of them through the opening between rooms. He can’t panic. The back door is open, he recalls, running to the swinging door. It doesn’t move. Dan’s face rebounds off of the wood. He shoves at the door, but it isn’t going anywhere. It’s her. He thinks. She is lying in front and it won’t swing out. At the bottom of the door Dan can see a roll of her fat is wedged in the space underneath.
    There is no handle to pull, only a flat brass plate to push against. He tries to use his fingernails to gain purchase around the metal, but they aren’t long enough. He had just trimmed them the night before.
    The dead pollute the living room. A few of them fall into Couch Canyon and are trying to scale the other side. There has to be something, he tells himself as his eyes dart around the kitchen. He has his M-16 in his hands but only one shot.
    He takes a look at the island and formulates a plan. Moving to the granite topped alter he slips in the occupants blood and almost ends up on the floor. He grabs the counter for balance. The soldier is behind the structure facing the dining room. He lowers his body placing his shoulder up against it. He shoves with all his might, his feet push against the cabinets behind him. It won’t budge. It’s just too heavy.
    Broken china crunches, and the moaning becomes louder and louder as they get closer, and more abundant. He attempts another shove but has to give it up; the strain makes his temples throb and his lips tingle. He can feel the blood rushing to his face from the exertion.
    Several bags of flour lay on top of the immovable mass of counter. He has one last ditch idea and it’s a long shot. The desperate man grabs a bag of flour and starts to throw around the white powder causing a dust cloud to hang thick in the air. He repeats this with the other bags using the combat knife from his belt to open the sealed sacks.
    The dead are pushing their way through the door. Some crawl in through the window. Dan hurls the final heavy bag of wheat at the closest corpse. The deceased, yet mobile gentleman’s head knocks backwards from the impact; a cloud takes its place for a few seconds.
    The air is full of billions of minute particles that make Dan want to cough. He hasn’t much faith in his own plan, but realizes one bullet won’t do much to save him. He