The Survivor Chronicles (Book 2): The Divide by Erica Stevens Page A

was getting slippery, and it had nothing to do with the water still dripping off of him and onto the worn commercial carpet. There was a puddle forming beneath him, a dark stain that he didn't notice over the hush that had descended on the room. If it hadn't been for the powerful beat of the rain, he knew he would have heard a pin drop, even on the carpet.
    He didn't know people could be so still, he hadn't known that he could be so still as he kept his eye pressed to the hole in the door. His hands, resting against the door, were helping him to keep his balance on his tiptoes, but he didn't feel any strain in his calves, and his feet didn't ache from the pressure he was putting on them.
    No, he didn't notice anything over the crowd moving steadily forward, seemingly oblivious to the rain as they trudged onward in an endless wave. Zombies, zombies, zombies , the word was an endless chant in his head that caused his stomach to twist and a lump to form in his throat.
    He'd watched countless zombie movies and TV shows, wondered about the zombie apocalypse, played the video games, and had even jokingly made plans with his friends about how they would kick undead ass and pound zombies back into the grave. Secretly, he'd always thought he'd be one of the first ones to be eaten, and what a hideously awful way to go. He couldn't imagine anything worse than having other humans literally eat him to an agonizing death.
    He couldn't imagine it, but he was convinced he may end up witnessing it by the time all was said and done.
    The word zombies continued to scream through his head, but there was something about these people. Something so different and strange that though he would like to believe they were dead, and would actually accept that fact after the events of this day, he knew that he was wrong. They were not zombies. They seemed oblivious to their surroundings, but he was fairly certain they were still alive.
    They didn't mindlessly shuffle about and they didn't appear to be rotting. Though some of them were burned, bloody, bruised and looked more than worse for the wear as they trudged onward. They didn't acknowledge the fact that they were getting soaked, but a few of them would lift their heads to the sky and stare at it as they blinked against the black washing over them. Though they would stand there, seeming to take in the rain like he used to on a hot summer day, they didn't seem bothered by the fact that it was black.
    Curse's surged up his throat, he fought the urge to kick the door and slam his hands against it as he screamed. He remained immobile as sweat and water trickled down the back of his neck and his hold on the gun became increasingly harder to maintain.
    The others moved around the one's that stopped in the middle of the road. They didn't bump into them, didn't urge them to move on, but simply flowed around them like a school of mackerel around a rock. John was tempted to pinch himself in order to see if he was awake, but he knew he was, and he couldn't bring himself to move, not even one centimeter.
    He was terrified they would somehow see his movement and come charging up here to eat his brains, or his flesh, or whatever it was that these people craved. For though he felt that they were still alive, he knew that something wasn't right with them, something not entirely human, not anymore.
    No normal human would stand out there with their heads tilted back to that rain, soaking it in like they were flowers in need of hydration.
    A shudder tore through him. He bit his lip as he waited for the flowers to somehow have seen his movement and come charging up the drive screaming, 'feed me' at the top of their plantlike lungs. They didn't come though and John relaxed a little, but it was impossible to relax completely as he was growing increasingly convinced that whatever was wrong with these people was because of the rain. The rain that he had spent far too much time in as far as he was concerned. More than anyone