The Hungry (Book 2): The Wrath of God by Steven Booth, Harry Shannon Page A

of tires on the gravel, and the steady electric whine of the pallet truck's feisty motor. Miller kept her eyes moving to the shadows on either side of the entrance as they got farther and farther from the external lights.
    The darkness felt threatening. Miller was pissed about not having a weapon of any kind. Hell, an eight-cell flashlight would have at least given her something to entertain a zombie with before it put out her lights permanently. She wondered if Hanratty would show enough courtesy to shoot her in the head if she turned zombie. She doubted it. Maybe Sheppard or Scratch would. Miller decided to ask for that particular mercy at the next opportunity. She didn't want to end up as Dale had.
    She stopped dead in her tracks.
    Sheppard said, "Crap."
    Miller said, "Uh oh."
    The main doors to the base were closed—really closed. In the fading light, Miller could see a jagged mess of crude weld marks. Someone had barricaded the doors. And someone had also spray painted words on those doors. Miller squinted to make them out.
    The WrATh of GoD!
    "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" asked Rat.
    No one spoke. Miller looked at Scratch and Terrill Lee. "Boys, were the doors this way when you came to get Sheppard and me?" Terrill Lee and Scratch had mounted a daring rescue, invaded the top-secret base—then showed up too late to do a damned bit of good. They should have been the last humans both in and out. Clearly, they weren't.
    Scratch and Terrill Lee shook their heads. Terrill Lee said, "No idea where that came from. We entered through that door over there."
    Miller studied the words. The WrATh of GoD! "Well, we're not getting through that any time soon."
    All eyes fell on a second, smaller entrance perhaps twenty yards away. Miller flinched at the sight. She registered more hulking shadows that just oozed evil. She saw way too many hiding places for the enemy to lie in wait. Fortunately, the mercenary soldiers also had flashlights mounted on their rifles. They brought them up as one to point at the second door. The open doorway seemed to soak up the light, a black hole in space.
    Ripper broke the silence. "You reckon I can get through that opening with our payload?"
    Instead of responding, Sheppard headed for the door with no escort. Brubeck and Psycho paused for a moment, wondering what the damned fool had in mind. They remembered they were on point and jogged to overtake Sheppard. Miller and the others followed. Miller sought a comfortable position, but felt exposed everywhere. She needed something in her hands. A board, a stick, a shovel, anything at all would be better than nothing. She kept looking around. And she kept moving.
    Psycho got to the entrance first. He came up to the edge, and quickly peeked inside. From her point of view, Miller saw faint but flickering redness—probably the emergency lighting—coming through the dark beyond the door. Evidently there were no bad guys on the other side of the door, because Psycho waived Brubeck in. The two soldiers shined their lights inside. Nothing glared back. They relaxed.
    "All clear, Rat."
    "Yes, I think you can get through there," said Sheppard, though it was clear that Ripper could see for himself.
    They stood back, the dark night surrounding them seeming to salivate with anticipation. The electric engine whined. Ripper shook his head and gnawed his lower lip as he maneuvered the pallet truck in line with the doorway. Brubeck and Psycho entered, weapons raised but not really pointing at anything, and then Ripper followed with the truck. Everyone moved efficiently and smoothly but you could have cut the tension with a blade.
    Miller put her hand on Sheppard's shoulder. She whispered in his ear. "You feel it?"
    Sheppard just nodded.
    "This is not a good idea, Karl."
    "Hold that thought, Penny," he whispered back. "I've got something important to tell you once we're inside."
    "What, damn it?" But Sheppard had already gone.
    Miller stared at the door for