LOGINShare
Chapter Thirty
Last Updated:
2025-10-02 14:58:49
Latest chapter
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead Chapter Thirty-one
The days after the supply run felt different. It was like the air itself had shifted, charged with a new kind of energy. For me, it was the energy of quiet confidence. The phantom kick of the rifle against my shoulder was a constant, reassuring reminder: You are not prey. You are a fighter. People in the corridors, people who had previously just seen me as "Elsie's twin" or "Lester's sister," now nodded to me. They knew my name. Marcus, the stoic scout, had made a point of telling the story of the "postal worker zombie" to anyone who would listen, his praise simple and direct: "She's got guts and quick reflexes. We're lucky to have her."This newfound status came with a few perks. One evening, after a long day of inventory duty that made my eyes cross, I trudged into the communal dining hall, expecting the usual gruel—a vague, beige paste that was supposedly "nutrient-rich" and tasted like disappointment. But tonight, a different, heavenly scent hit my nostrils. It was rich, savory, a
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead Chapter Thirty
The next week settled into a strange, new rhythm. A rhythm that sounded like the clang of the breakfast gong, the thump-thump-thump of morning drills, and the distant, tinny pop-pop-pop from the shooting ranges. Elsie and I had gone to that beginner's session, just like we promised. My hands had shaken so badly holding the pistol that the instructor, a no-nonsense woman named Reyes, had put a steadying hand on my wrist and said, "Breathe, kid. The gun isn't the enemy. Yet." Elsie, to my utter lack of surprise, was a crack shot. Of course she was. She approached it like a math problem—stance, grip, sight alignment, trigger squeeze. It was methodical, precise. I was more... enthusiastic. But I was learning.The whole base was a whirlwind of activity, and our little "unit" was swept up in it. We were assigned jobs, chores, and training. It was during one of these busy afternoons, while I was lugging a crate of surprisingly heavy lightbulbs to the storage closet, that I literally bumped i
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead Chapter Twenty-nine
---Abby cuddled next to her dad as she slept like a baby. Well, to be more accurate, she slept like a baby after a monumental, world-ending tantrum. Being referred to as part of the unit had apparently really pissed her off. It was the final straw on the camel's back of a very long, very confusing day. She couldn't stop bawling her eyes out, great big heaving sobs that shook her whole tiny body. Lena, with the patience of a saint, had tried to console her, using a soft, gentle voice and offering to braid her hair. But Abby was having none of it. She was a fortress of sadness, and the drawbridge was firmly up. Even her dad, who could usually calm her with a silly face, was completely useless. He just looked tired and helpless, rubbing her back while she wailed. So, in the end, we just let her sleep in. Sometimes, the only way to win a battle against a tiny, tear-soaked tyrant is to let them snore themselves to victory.The introductions that followed had completely and utterly drained
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead Chapter Twenty- eight
The profound quiet of the apartment was a living thing, a balm on the raw nerves of our entire group. For a long time, no one spoke. We simply existed in the safety Elise had provided, the residual adrenaline of our journey and arrival slowly metabolizing into a deep, bone-melting exhaustion. The light through the window softened from the sharp white of afternoon to the golden hue of late day, painting long, lazy shadows across the floor. Lena’s soft, even breaths from the sofa were a metronome of peace. Carlos’s occasional, contented sigh from the armchair was the sound of a watchman finally standing down.Elise watched me, her eyes tracing the lines of weariness on my face as if reading a map of our ordeal. Her expression was a complex blend of sisterly love and a new, harder-edged assessment. She was seeing not just her younger sibling, but a survivor, a resource. After a while, she squeezed my hand and stood up, her movements practical and quiet.“You should all try to rest proper
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead Chapter Twenty-Four
Of all the wretched, soul-scarring chores this new world had forced upon us, taking down the zombies was the worst. It wasn't just the danger; it was the profound, gut-churning disgust of it all. It was the most disgusting shit I’d ever done in my whole life, a phrase that felt woefully inadequate to describe the visceral horror. The act itself was a brutal, messy business. It wasn't like in the old movies, a clean shot to the head and a tidy collapse. It was a gruesome ballet of decay and resistance. The sickening, wet thud of the crowbar connecting with a skull that was more liquid than bone. The way they sometimes didn't just fall, but sort of… deflated, spilling their putrid contents onto the already fouled earth. The smell—a sweet, cloying, and deeply rotten odor that clung to your clothes, your hair, the back of your throat, for days, a ghost of death that followed you everywhere. Carlos wasn't making it better for me either. With every shitty, necessary kill, he cursed un
Project Dakota: Rising of the dead Chapter Twenty-seven
The world ceased to exist beyond the warmth of her hands covering my eyes. The compound, the watching faces, the very air—it all dissolved into a blur of sensation. The only things that were real were the familiar, calloused press of her palms against my skin and the sound of my name, a whispered prayer I had feared I would never hear again. A sob, ragged and torn from a place deep within me I had thought long since cauterized by fear, broke free. My knees buckled, but I did not fall, held upright by the sheer, impossible fact of her presence.I turned, my movements slow, disbelieving, as if a sudden gesture might shatter the mirage. My hands came up, gripping her wrists, needing the solid, tangible proof of her. Her hands slid from my eyes, down to my shoulders, and then we were simply staring at one another. Her face—it was the same, yet utterly transformed. It was my sister’s face, the one I had carried in my mind’s eye, but it was older, harder. The laugh lines around her eyes wer
You may also like
Freya Rose Book One ~ Adored By An Alpha
L.P. Dillon58.2K viewsMated to the Alpha of the East
Phoenix Storm21.6K viewsClaimed By The Vampire King
Racheal Perez13.0K viewsBonded: His mate
Christylooknice15.2K viewsPanther's Pet
J. P. Uvalle3.4K viewsTrapped In Beastly Desires
B.C Maurice2.5K viewsVampire Queen (Book 2 Vampire Witch Trilogy)
Eileen Sheehan, Ailene Frances, E.F. Sheehan3.0K viewsSacred Bonds: Her Mates
Amal ait3.1K views
