The Infected (Book 3): Nightfall by Joseph Zuko Page A

constantly
asking questions, but other than that it would be just like a date.
    Nice.
     
    Troy reentered the kitchen,
one hand rubbed his belly the other was rubbing his forehead, “I think I broke
the toilet. It won’t flush. I keep hitting the lever and nothing happens. I
need to sit back down I’m getting dizzy.” Troy left the kitchen in a hurry and
headed for the couch in the living room.
    Valerie smiled at her
sister, “Uncle Troy broke the toilet.”
    “Uncle Troy broke the
toilet?” Robin repeated it and was also asking a question at the same
time. 
    Great, the toilet is
broken! Karen rolled her eyes. It
wasn’t like she could run down to the plumbing store and get a new lever. Then
the thought hit her.
    What are we going to do
about bathroom breaks if the water gets cut off and we can’t go outside?
    She closed her eyes and
gritted her teeth. One problem at a time. They needed to get this place locked
down and secure first. Then she would worry about where the hell everyone was
going to take their shits.

Chapter 8
     
    Jim felt his face go flush
and sweat instantly soaked his brow. He was frozen. Fear had taken complete
control. An asshole with a shotgun had got the drop on him.
    How many of them were
hiding in the dark corners of this store?
    Could Frank finish this
jerk off before the asshole squeezed the trigger on the shotgun?
    Is Frank willing to
kill a human to save me?
    “I said drop the spear!”
the voice called from the shadows.
    Sara and Frank snapped to.
Frank had his rifle up and ready, but not sure where to aim yet. He stepped
close to Jim’s shoulder. Sara had her bat in the air, itching for a fight, but
it was not going to help much unless she could hit a fastball pitched by a
twelve gauge.
    “Please, we don’t want any
problems. We thought the store was abandoned,” Jim pleaded.
    The shotgun cocked. They
flinched and Jim raised his hands into the air.
    “We’re low on ammo!” Frank
growled.
    The man behind the gun
said nothing. Seconds felt like minutes to Jim.
    Frank’s eyes adjusted to
the dark and he could make out the barrel waving in the air.
    “No one has to get hurt
here!” Sara shouted into the darkness.
    “Drop the weapons, or I will
open fire!” the voice sounded desperate.
    Jim thought maybe he could
reason with this person.
    “Look, my name is Jim
Blackmore, we have an injured man back at our place that needs the medical
supplies we picked up at RS Medical. Please let us go so we can save his life!”
    BOOM!
    The Stranger fired the
shotgun into the floor directly in front of Jim’s crew. The buckshot ripped
into the cheap carpet and then he cocked it again. Jim didn’t know what scared
him more, the pellets that landed at his feet or the sound that shotgun made
when it was cocked.
    Jim dropped his spear
right away and Sara let go of her bat a second later. The weapons crashed to
the floor at their feet. Frank released his SKS and the gun swung by its
shoulder strap and ended under his armpit. They held their hands high in the
air.
    “What do you want?!” Jim
screeched at the Stranger.
    “Kick them over here and
drop that rifle.” The Stranger barked his orders. “On your knees, hands behind
your head!”
    “Motherfucker!” Sara spit
the word out at him.
    Frank unslung the shoulder
strap and laid his gun on the floor. They kicked their weapons across the floor
into the darkness. 
    Jim gritted his teeth and
grunted as he dropped to his knees. Sara and Frank joined him on their knees.
What choice did they have? They weren’t trained negotiators, they weren’t
military, and there was no back up coming to save them. Jim’s hands slid down
the back of his head and stopped at the base of his skull.
    They were fucked.
    How many times was Jim
going to have a gun shoved in his face today? If they somehow got out of this,
Jim swore to himself that in the future they would be better prepared before
entering any building. He was not sure how he was going to be