Positive by David Wellington Read Free Book Online Page B

two good handfuls of soft, greasy fur, and then pulled downward as hard as I could, dragging her face toward mine, pulling her upper body into the space between the two cars. She shrieked in rage and surprise, but I was already moving, sliding myself under the second car, my heels digging into the broken asphalt to pull me along. The knife spun in the air as she dropped it. It landed on my chest, the eye of the engraved eagle staring me in the face.
    She reached down one hand like a claw to grab the knife. At the time I just wanted to keep the knife away from her, to make sure she couldn’t grab it and stab me with it. I had no intention of hurting her. But as I grabbed the knife before she could reach it, the blade slid along her wrist, cutting a deep gouge in her skin and making her shout with pain. She yanked her arm back and stared at the blood dripping from her wrist. Then she turned to look at me again. Her face was still only inches from mine, and I half expected her to start biting at me. So I shoved the knife down into my belt and then slid entirely under the second car.
    I got out from under that car in half a second and then I twisted around and got to my feet. Behind me she was still struggling to climb out of the gap between the cars. I took one glance around and saw a line of buildings before me, low stores and offices facing the turnpike. It was the best cover I could hope for, so I dashed for it, expecting at any moment to hear a shot ring out, expecting to be gunned down. The attack could come from any direction. I knew she had at least one partner out there somewhere.
    I was certain she would try to kill me.
    Instead I heard her laugh, behind me. She thought this was funny.
    â€œYou fucking cut me! Pretty good, kid. Run away, little boy!” she called after me. “Run and go play with the zombies! They get real playful at night!”

 
    CHAPTER 12
    I didn’t believe she wouldn’t follow me. I knew almost nothing of the world outside New York City, and so I ran, my breath sawing in and out of my chest, desperate to just get away, to escape whatever she had planned for me. The buildings flashed by on either side, stores and restaurants giving way to parking lots and lawns choked with overgrown trees. It was already starting to get dark, and I thought I should try to get inside one of the buildings. But every doorway I passed was either boarded up or padlocked. I didn’t have time to break into a building—­I was convinced that the looters were still after me. I wanted to put as much distance and as many walls between them and me as possible.
    I ran across another street, jumping over potholes and broken pavement, and on the far side was a wide patch of grass that hadn’t completely been overtaken by trees. At its edge stood a two-­story building with intact windows and a door that wasn’t boarded up. It would have to do. As I got closer I saw it was the Fort Lee Public Library. That at least seemed like the kind of place looters wouldn’t bother with.
    The door creaked a little as I yanked it open, but it shut behind me automatically as I dashed inside into the dark. The last of the daylight was streaming in through the windows and I could just make out a big desk and then row after row of shelves full of books.
    Dust covered the top of the desk and made me think nobody had been inside this building since the crisis. That was good, but I was more interested in the sign that pointed me to the restrooms. Inside the men’s room, and then the women’s room, I tried every one of the sink taps, because I was desperate for water and didn’t care if it was toxic or not. One of the taps made a low groaning sound when I yanked on its handle, but that was all. Desperate, I turned toward the toilets. One look at them and I knew it was pointless. The bowls were dry and cracked, and the tanks were full of nothing but a furry brown growth of fungus.
    I dropped