The Farm - 05 by Stephen Knight Read Free Book Online Page B

Army has a holding force there,” Biggs said. There was no reason to lie about it.
    “Where are your vehicles?”
    “Gone. Out of gas. We’re on foot.”
    “Tough break. But Indiantown Gap’s a long ways from here. You were maybe thinking of helping yourself to my vehicle?”
    “Negative—like I said, we don’t want any trouble. We just need a place to stay for the night.” Biggs’s arms were starting to get tired holding her rifle up over her head. “You mind if I lower my rifle, sir?”
    “This ain’t no hotel,” the voice said, ignoring her question. “There’s nothing for you here, Captain. Better keep moving.”
    “You prior service?” Biggs asked.
    “U.S. Marine Corps, up until last year. I eat lightfighters like you for breakfast.”
    “Sniper?”
    “Oorah. It’s what I do, Army.” The voice paused. “You’re pretty ballsy, for a girl. Saw you drop your gear up there. Afraid I was going to put the zap on you?”
    “The thought had crossed my mind.”
    “I don’t kill the living. Not anymore, not since there’s so many of the God damned dead. Hey, do me a favor, Army?”
    “What’s that?”
    “Move two steps to your right.”
    Biggs stood there, holding her rifle over her head, sweating, heart pounding, arms going slowly numb from reduced blood flow. She wondered what the hell was up, but after a long moment, she took one slow step to her right. Then another.
    CRACK! There was a muted flash from inside the window, and a bullet zipped past her head. Biggs flinched, lowering her rifle and pulling the stock tight against her shoulder. She heard something hit the ground behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder, just took one quick bite of a look to see what was happening. A zombie lay face down on the grass. Brackish slurry leaked from its shattered skull.
    “You got shit for situational awareness, Army. That zed was creeping up on you for almost two minutes.”
    “Thanks for taking it out,” Biggs said, feeling more than a little bit stupid.
    “How long’ve you guys been on the move?”
    “Six days. We left New York six days ago.”
    “Six days, and you’ve only made it here? Damn, girl. You guys might want to pick up the pace a bit.” The voice paused for a long moment. “You can’t come into the house, but you can use the barn. You need to leave at first light. And if you think about trying anything funny, I’ve got murder holes all over this place. Try and help yourself to what’s mine, and you’ll be as dead as that stench behind you. You read me, Army?”
    “Good copy, Marine.”
    “You should sleep in the hay loft. Barn ought to be empty, there’s nothing in there to attract the dead, but you never know. You have any field sanitation gear with you?”
    “We still have some, yeah.”
    “Then use it. You piss or shit in barn, it’ll attract the stenches. And if they attack you, they’re your problem—not mine.”
    Biggs looked up at the black maw that was the window and nodded. “Roger that.” She lowered her eyes after a moment, and looked back at the dead zombie that lay on the ground before the barricaded porch. The one that had been shot multiple times. She looked back up at the window suddenly. “Hey, you need anything from us?”
    “Negative. We’re good,” the voice said, for the first time indicating there were others in the house. Biggs figured it was a slip of the tongue. The sniper was probably tired from manning his weapon all day.
    “Anyone bitten in there?” she asked.
    “Like I said—we’re good,” the voice responded, but there was something false to it. Biggs squinted as she looked up at the open window.
    “Listen, if someone’s bitten, that’s real bad news. That’s how the virus spreads.”
    “Thanks for the hot tip. You’d better get a move on. The light’s fading.”
    Biggs shrugged and nodded. “I’ll call my men forward. That all right?”
    “I don’t see how they’re going to make it to the barn unless they, you