Whatever It Takes by Mike Staton Read Free Book Online Page A

was on.
    “It turns on at least.” Percival picked another radio from the locker and clicked it on as well. He turned the second radio to the same channel as the first.
    “Just ‘cause they turn on don’t mean they work.”
    Percival held the first radio at arm’s length and depressed the call button on the second. “Testing.”
    “Testing.” His voice echoed half a second later out of the other radio.
    “Told you they worked.” Percival stuffed his crowbar back into his duffel bag and proceeded to do the same with the dozen radios after turning the initial two off once more. “We should head out the—“
    Something crashed to the floor behind them. Percival let the duffel bag swing on his arm as he swept his flashlight around the room. Evan was doing the same. Both of them were silent.
    Percival lifted his helmet’s visor and took a whiff from the air. It smelled like dust and motor oil. He didn’t smell the rank rotting of a zombie, but that didn’t necessarily mean one wasn’t out there in the darkness; or in another nearby room. He hadn’t been able to precisely pinpoint the source of the crash.
    He pushed his visor back down and zipped the duffel bag closed before drawing his pistol.
    “You see anything?” Evan asked.
    Percival was more than a little amazed at how calm the kid sounded. Percival certainly didn’t feel very calm. In the tight confines of the shelves of spare parts and oil, it would be difficult to fend off an attack.
    “Nothing. There’s a lot of shit to hide behind here.” Percival swept his flashlight along the shelves once more. “It’s bein’ quiet.”
    “It’s been quiet all day…“ Evan said, his voice trailing off.
    A growl erupted from the direction of the door they’d come through. It was low, threatening, and almost animalistic. It was distinctly disturbing to Percival. He immediately wanted out of the dark confines of the parts warehouse.
    “Ain’t there a back door around here?” he asked in a suddenly hushed tone.
    “How the hell should I know?” Evan spat back.
    Another growl rose, between them and the door. It sounded louder, and closer. Percival didn’t want to meet whatever was making the noise. He trained his flashlight in the direction he thought the noise had come from.
    “Loop to our right, head to the wall. Let’s get around this thing,” Percival said. His words were quiet and fast. “If we’re lucky, there’ll be a door leading to, like, a maintenance bay or something.”
    Evan didn’t speak, he just acted. He moved away from the lockers and in the direction Percival had indicated. Percival followed him as another growl echoed through the warehouse. The clack of nails or claws on the hard cement floor now followed them. The sound reminded Percival of a dog’s nails on a hard floor. The effect was to make him feel further hunted and he dropped his flashlight’s beam to the floor rather than keeping it at chest level.
    “I see light.” Evan was at the wall already.
    “Go toward it. I think we’ve got an infected dog or something here that we’ve stumbled into.” Percival continued to back away from the lockers.
    “Dogs don’t get infected, and that didn’t sound like no dog to me,” Evan said.
    A growl erupted from the direction of the doorway and was answered by a second growl from the lockers.
    Percival uttered a string of obscenities. He’d bumped into the wall and could see the vague outline of a door in the darkness. “There’s more than one.”
    “No shit, Sherlock,” Evan said. “You seen it yet?”
    “No.” Percival closed the gap between Evan and himself. He felt only slightly safer having the young man at his back.
    He watched his direction, listening to the slow methodical clack of claws on the cement. His heart pounded in his throat, and he let out a short scream as an arm sent parts boxes tumbling to the ground as it lashed out at him from the nearby shelves.
    The arm clocked his helmet and turned his head