Transmission: Voodoo Plague Book 5 by Dirk Patton Read Free Book Online Page A

should
detonate a couple of feet above the ground.  Optimal placement for a
fragmentation grenade.  Unless you’re standing within the damage radius of the
metal fragments that would be propelled outward faster than the speed of sound
when it detonated.
    Dropping to the ground a fraction of a second before the
grenade exploded, I successfully avoided the jagged metal that whizzed overhead,
but was still pummeled with the concussion of the blast.  And deafened. 
Popping up I snapped the rifle on target.  One of the razorbacks that had been
standing to their rear had taken the worst of the damage and lay on the road
dead.  The grenade had apparently gone off just a few feet in front of its
face, destroying the animal’s head. 
    The second hog from the rear writhed on the ground,
squealing in pain.  I couldn’t see the extent of his wounds from where I lay,
but he was down and no longer a threat.  The largest one, the one who had been
foaming at the mouth, had damaged hips and rear legs, but was dragging his
badly bleeding body in my direction with his front legs.  I pulled the trigger
and pumped three rounds directly into his face.  He spasmed once before collapsing
to the ground, dead. 
    One of the lessons I’d had beaten into me in training was to
not relax just because the enemy in front of you is neutralized.  That lesson
had been reinforced a few times in combat over the years.  Now it was
automatic, and I quickly got on my knee and scanned behind me.  Finding
nothing, I stood and walked slowly to where the last razorback was sprawled
across the asphalt, writhing and squealing.  I stopped a few feet away and
looked at him.
    Fragments of the grenade’s casing had apparently severed his
spine and also torn open his body on the side facing the blast.  As he thrashed
about, blood and body fluids gushed out of the rent in his abdomen.  He saw me
standing there looking at him and began trying to drag his shattered body across
the pavement to attack me.  As he moved, his head turned and the sun shone
brightly on his face and for the first time I got a good look at his eyes. 
Blood red.  Just like an infected human.
    I was stunned.  Rooted to the spot in horror at the thought
of the infection spreading to animals.  I had idly wondered earlier about the
possibility of birds being infected, but hadn’t thought about pigs.  I should
have.  The swine flu has been a problem for as long as humans have been keeping
and raising the animals.  Now a virus has jumped the other way?  That’s just
marvelous.
    Firing a single round into the animal’s head, I moved to
check the other two.  I was dismayed when I pulled back each of their eyelids
and saw the same red eyes.  What the hell did that mean?  Were they going to
hunt us the same way infected humans did?  I still didn’t know if this whole
encounter was because we had stumbled into their territory, or if they had been
stalking us. 
    I didn’t think an animal like this would stalk.  They weren’t
predators the way a wolf, a big cat or a bear are, and stalking wasn’t part of
their nature.  But was it now?  And were these male or female?  I stepped to
the back of the biggest razorback, and using the toe of my boot raised one of
its rear legs. It, he, had an enviously huge set of balls. A quick check of the
other two revealed they were both female.  I guess slow and stupid was
exclusive to males of the human race.
    Reminding myself to not get caught up in over analyzing
things, I stood and checked the area around me.  Still clear.  For the moment
at least.  Were there more of these waiting for me?  Putting those thoughts
aside I resumed walking toward the truck stop.  I was on high alert, moving
slowly with my rifle ready to go, but I made it to the far end of the field
without encountering any more of Miss Piggy’s cousins.
    I was downwind from the truck stop and could smell the
bodies well before I got there.  I reminded myself to not