This Dying World: The End Begins by James Dean Read Free Book Online

that shed is really unfit to be read by child and adult alike.  I can be sure that somewhere a priest’s ears caught fire, two angels lost their wings, and even the devil scratched my name off his list saying something about how that kind of language wouldn’t be allowed down there.  Somewhere in the Pacific, a sailor for reasons unknown to him made the sign of the Holy Trinity.
    Climbing out through the hole I made was out of the question.  My shoulder had moved from irritating ache to searing pain.  Kicking the door was out.  My knee had been through enough abuse already.  I looked at the rake, and checked it off my list.  Prying open the door with that rake would only make a bent rake.  I opened the tool box, praying for just one stroke of good luck to befall me.
    That prayer was answered.
    Glaring back at me from inside its metal tomb was the most beautiful bright orange extended handle three pound dead blow hammer I had ever seen.  If you don’t know what a dead blow hammer is, let me explain.  Think of a small plastic sledge hammer.  Hollow it out and fill it with heavy beads or sand.  Instead of the usual recoil you would get with a traditional hammer bouncing after impact, the material inside allows for the full force of your swing to make impact without the bounce.
    What does that mean against a zombie skull?  Instead of just cracking bone, this little gem will carry the impact well into the brain.  All the impact, half the work.
    Sometimes physics can be fun.
    A few whacks with the hammer, and the door was reduced to splinters.  If I were being tested on stealth, I would rate somewhere between bull in a china shop and sonic boom.  Tip toeing through the undead tulips didn’t seem to be working out for me.  Every time I tried to be ninja Dan, I fell off, on, or into things.  I wanted to be with my family in a warm car speeding away from there.
    I almost jumped out of my skin when the pounding started behind me.  They had broken through my fence, and were making short work of the one separating us.  The wood buckled, swaying under the pressure of the hungry throng.  The wood started to split, hands reaching for me though small openings forming between the pickets.  White eyes peered at me through the small openings, sending them into a frenzy.  Their sounds became an unearthly mix of hisses and deep guttural moans.
    I made for the gate.  I had to chance it, regardless of whatever I met once it was opened.  If I didn’t leave fast, I wouldn’t be leaving at all.  I was thankful my old friends were not the beings I saw after throwing the gate open.  That was the only thing I was thankful for, though.
    As soon as I stepped into the commons area I saw a mass of the dead making their way toward me.  Their arms shot up when they saw me, graying hands clawing fistfuls of air as they closed.  Blood stained their mouths, trailing down their chins mixing with strings of frothing drool spewing from their lips.  A zombie that had once knocked on my door to spread the word of the Jehovah’s Witnesses was now taking bites out of his housecat.
    They all suffered injuries to some degree.  Most of the throng wore bed clothes, everything from night gowns to sweats, and even a few who apparently slept in the nude.  One of the things had every bit of flesh torn from its face above the nose.  Lidless eyes darted back and forth like a macabre ventriloquist’s doll.
    I turned to run, and was almost knocked backwards by woman in a blue flight attendant’s uniform.  Her milky eyes stared back into mine, and my knees went weak with fear.  She looked young, maybe mid to late twenties.  The once blonde hair on her right side had been burnt off, blackening the entire side of her head.  The taut skin crackled as it worked its jaw muscles, sending burnt flakes of skin falling to the ground.
    She hissed in my face, and my eyes instantly watered.  If smell was a color, my face would have turned