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

else in the room, which meant he was now the guinea pig in this macabre dance of insanity.
    He'd rather die in a steaming pit of lava fueled misery than become one of the mindless herd outside.
    "They're going to eat us." The words, spoken by Rochelle, echoed his thoughts. Although he was growing increasingly concerned that he may be the one that ate them if it was the rain that was causing those people to act like this. He'd never craved a shower so badly in his life, but he was convinced that somehow the rain had already polluted the water system and that these drones would hear the shower running.
    The plants with their heads tilted back began to move forward again, and he found himself extremely grateful that they hadn't opened their mouths and started drinking the water as the last ones ambled out of view. The street became silent again, but John couldn't bring himself to pull his eye away from the door. He was half convinced that those people already knew they were here and were going to appear right in front of the door.
    He could already feel the scream building in his throat for when that first eyeball appeared before him. He was going to lose his mind; he was going to go absolutely crazy before this was all over. For the first time he faced the fact that he may be one of the first ones to be taken down by a group of rabies/zombie infected humans that walked mindlessly through charcoal encrusted rain, and he didn't like it one damn bit.
    It was the shaking in his legs that finally made him drop back down. He pressed his forehead against the door as he inhaled a shaky breath and tried not to think about the possible toxins seeping into his system.
    "What's wrong with them?" Rochelle asked.
    John kept his forehead against the door as he turned his head to look at them, but no one spoke. Carl's hands fumbled for his cigarettes, he cast a look at Rochelle and shoved them back into his pocket. There was a look in his eyes that frightened John almost as much as the syphilis/mad cow shuffling humans that had been on the street. Before this day they had been friendly, today John had come to consider Carl more than just a friend but almost a brother, a rock to rely on when he'd been on the verge of losing it. Now he couldn't tell if Carl was going to start screaming or sit down on the bed and go catatonic on him.
    Instead Carl turned away from the window, climbed over the bed, and snagged hold of the keys Riley had stolen from the office. "What are you doing?" Riley hissed.
    "I need a freaking cigarette," Carl muttered as he filled a cup of water and hurried to the door in between the two rooms. "There has to be a master key in this mess."
    He tossed some of the water on the handle and then tapped it with his hand. John remained mute as Carl went through the keys, and tossed the ones that didn't fit onto the bed. The pile in Carl's hand was growing smaller. John was beginning to think he'd have to open the front door again before Carl threw a nic fit and lost his mind, when a key finally slid in and turned the lock. Carl's shoulders slumped; he pulled the door open and tossed the rest of the water on the other door. John held his breath as Carl unlocked the door and poked his head inside the other room.
    He disappeared and a few seconds later John heard the flick of a lighter and Carl's deep inhale. John turned around and leaned against the door before sliding to the floor. "What was wrong with them?" Rochelle asked again.
    "I don't know," Riley answered as she dug into one of the bags and pulled out two flashlights and some batteries. "Maybe nothing, they may have just been going home."
    It was a lie; they all knew it, but none of them argued with her. "Was that the whole town?" Carl asked from the other room.
    "No," Lee answered. "Franklin's about twice the size of Foxboro and that wasn't even close to the population of Foxboro."
    "How many of them do you think there were?" Rochelle asked.
    "Couple hundred," John