Ex-Purgatory, Peter Clines [top ten books of all time .txt] 📗

halt as a wave of dust and decay washed across the street. Cars lost tires and windshields. Buildings lost windows and signs and one even lost a wall. Half the pedestrians vanished and the city went silent.

St. George opened his mouth to yell and took two steps forward, but Stealth was already whirling. The ex behind her caught a strike in the throat and one in each knee. She ducked, grabbed its calves, and flipped the dead man over backward. It struck the pavement head-first and went still. She lashed up with the heel of her hand and caught the second ex under the jaw, spraying its teeth into the air. They clicked and pattered on the pavement while she drove three more hammer blows into the sides of the creature’s skull, each one cracking bone. The ex wobbled and then slumped to the ground.

A dead woman with stringy hair grabbed Danielle by the arm. Its fingers had been worn down to bony tips. She shrieked and yanked her arm away, but its claws caught at her sleeve.

Freedom shifted Barry in his arms and slammed his boot into the ex’s side. The kick crushed the dead woman’s pelvis and rib cage. It flew away from Danielle to crash against a rust-spotted truck. The ex slumped to the pavement and flailed, trying to move limbs that had nothing left to support them.

St. George took two steps and shoved a muscle-bound ex in workout clothes. The dead man flew across six lanes of street and slammed through the side of a bus stop. It tried to get up, but its legs were hooked up and over the steel framework. Too much thought was needed for it to free itself.

“Well,” said Barry, “that all looked pretty easy.”

“We’ve had a lot of practice,” said St. George.

“It was very cool,” said Madelyn. She smiled at him from Freedom’s shoulders.

“Thanks.”

“Oh frak,” said Barry.

St. George turned. Danielle shook as if she was cold. There was a gash in her sleeve. The bony fingers had torn through the camouflaged material as it was hurled away.

“Oh no,” she muttered. She thrashed her way out of the coat. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.”

“There’s no blood,” said St. George. “I don’t see any blood.”

The Army jacket hit the ground and Danielle held her arm up. Her shirtsleeve was already rolled up, and they could all see the white scrape on her arm. There were a few small curls of loose skin around it. She poked at it and they all waited.

The scrape turned pink. At a few places it was almost red. But it didn’t bleed.

“Oh, Jesus,” she said. Her eyes were wet. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Barry grabbed her hand. “You’re okay,” he said. “That’s all that matters. You’re going to be fine.”

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” said Freedom. “I didn’t mean for it—”

“This is getting ridiculous,” said Danielle. She squeezed Barry’s hand. “How are we supposed to do this? We’re not even halfway to the Mount.”

“We’ve got to,” he said. “They’re all counting on us back there.”

“You don’t know that.”

“The armor’s back there,” said St. George. “The Cerberus suit’s waiting for you.”

She bit her lip. Then she swiped the jacket off the ground and fought her way back into it.

Behind them, Stealth spun on her heel and snapped an ex’s neck with a high kick. “Let us be on our way, then,” she said.

Danielle muttered something under her breath and started walking. St. George fell in next to her. Freedom helped Madelyn adjust herself on his back, switched Barry to his other arm, and brought up the rear.

The heroes walked for another hour and put down twenty-three exes. They’d passed Highland and were heading into a more residential area when the world glitched, giving them a quick glimpse of a bustling Los Angeles at rush hour. Then it reverted back to the devastated city they knew. Two-thirds of the cars on the road vanished as quickly as they’d appeared. The rest became wrecks with cracked windows and flat tires. The one closest to them, a BMW, had a dead woman with tangled brown hair in the passenger seat. The ex pawed at the glass between them. It was wearing a faded yellow sundress that had popped too many buttons. Bright red sunglasses were perched above the ex’s forehead.

Danielle stared at the creature. “This is going to sound weird,” she said, “but I think I remember her.”

The zombie smacked its head against the side window. Danielle hopped back and her arms pulled in close. She forced them back out.

Madelyn pulled herself a little higher on Freedom’s back. “Was she a friend of yours?”

Danielle shook her head. “I mean, I remember this ex. Trapped in the car with the sundress. She’s wearing combat boots too, right?”

St. George stepped up and peered through the window. “Yeah.”

“It was a run, a month or two before we met you guys,” she said to Freedom. “It might’ve been one of the times we were gathering cars for the Big Wall. I remember a couple of the scavengers making guesses about the sundress and boots combo. Ilya, Al, maybe … Billy? Did we have a Billy? I can kind of picture someone with short blond hair …”

“Billie Carter,” said Freedom. “Not a he, she.”

“Ahhh.”

Stealth looked up at the sky. “We are within half a mile of the Mount and we have seventy-five minutes of daylight left.” She gestured them down the road.

“Doesn’t sound bad,” said Barry. “I mean, as long as we don’t think about the few thousand exes outside the Big Wall any given day.”

Danielle’s back went stiff so fast she staggered. She shot an angry look at Barry.

“Sorry,” he said, “just thought I’d voice it because I haven’t heard anyone else bring it up.”

Stealth lashed out with her foot and sent an ex staggering back. It was a dead man with silver hair in a deep red UMass sweatshirt. As it wobbled, she stepped forward, brought her palm up, and caught it