The Life Beyond by Susanne Winnacker Read Free Book Online Page B

been in the shade all the time. I unwrapped one. The chocolate had lost its shape in the heat and tasted stale and bitter. Not really tasty, but definitely better than nothing, in case we didn’t find anything else on our journey to the fence. Joshua grabbed one for himself and I stuffed a few more into my backback before we continued our search. The noise of our teeth working on the chewy mass accompanied us through the gloomy, silent halls.
    Soon we reached the electronics department. I felt my pulse race with excitement as I saw the shelves, stocked with cell phones, home security equipment and camcorders. Everything was still locked behind glass. Using the handle of my gun I shattered it and picked up the nearest camcorder. I tested it, but it didn’t work.
    “Check the batteries,” Joshua whispered.
    “I know.” I opened the latch at the back. “They’ve leaked.”
    “Here, try these,” he said, handing me a fresh pack from a nearby stand.
    After I’d fumbled the new batteries into the camcorder, I pressed the “on” button again. A red light flashed.
    “It works!”
    I swung out the display screen and it showed the blurry shape of Joshua. “It’s too dark to film.”
    “Maybe there’s a night vision mode,” Joshua said. He took another camera out of the glass case and tested it.
    I pressed several buttons and the picture on the screen lost its blurriness. I swiveled the camera around, my eyes focused on the display. The words “recording” flashed in its right upper corner. I turned around and filmed the dark aisle until Joshua came back into focus. He grinned as he pointed his own camera at me and filmed me in return. But there was something in the shelf behind his left shoulder. The white of someone’s eyes. It blinked and shifted. A Weeper.
    My hands began to shake. “Joshua,” I whispered.
    He lowered the camera. His smile disappeared.
    “There’s a Weeper behind you. It’s very close.”
    One clawed hand curled around the edge of the shelf. Joshua reached for his gun but it would take too long for him to turn.
    I edged my fingers toward my halter. The Weeper tensed. I ripped my gun out and at the same time the Weeper propelled itself out of the shelf. Cell phones crashed to the floor. I shot but the beast collided with Joshua’s side. A sickening crunch sounded at the impact of their bodies on the ground. I screamed and stumbled forward. I gripped the unmoving Weeper by the gruff of its stained shirt and pulled it off. The bullet hole oozed blood between its brows.
    I knelt beside Joshua who blinked at me, dazed.
    “Are you okay?” I said, as I helped him sit up.
    He rested his forehead against mine. “Thanks.” I leant against him, feeling the beat of his heart against my chest.
    “Come on, we should get going. They’ll be more where that came from,” whispered Joshua, his breath warm against my cheek. He kissed me softly, before struggling to his feet, gripping a shelf for balance. His camcorder lay shattered on the ground.
    I was still clutching mine in the hand that wasn’t holding the gun. Quickly, Joshua snatched two more cameras from the glass case, stuffed them into the bag and slung it over his shoulder.
    “Don’t forget your gun,” I said.
    A wry smile played across his lips. “Those are my words,” he said as he picked his weapon up from the ground.
    “You were a good teacher,” I said teasingly. “Give me the flashlight. I’ll lead the way.”
    He handed it to me without protest and with another look at the dead Weeper, we made our way quickly toward the entrance.
    I pointed my gun ahead and directed the beam of the flashlight at the ground as I listened for noises. As we neared the door, light streamed through the broken glass front. Something rushed past it. “Weepers!” I hissed.
    Staying low, Joshua and I hurried outside. Two creatures, their hair a matted mass atop their heads, staggered away from the mall and toward —
    “The gas station!” Joshua