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Chapter 155 The Rope, the Idiot, and the Fall
Chapter <i>155 </i>The Rope, the Idiot, and the Fall
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If Theresa could’ve ignored the relentless chatter behind her, she probably could’ve climbed a hell of a lot faster.
“Beautiful, be honest did you fall in love with me or what?”
“Shut up!”
“Then why risk your life dragging me.out of there?”
“For your mom, obviously!”
Quentin blinked. “Okay, Rude.”
He tilted his face toward the wide blue sky, his one human eye sparkling with amusement. “Come on, just tell me what is it about me that’s got you so hooked?”
“I want you to shut the hell up.”
“Say the word, and maybe I’ll say yes.”
Mid–climb, Theresa almost burst into tears–not from emotion, but pure frustration. “I want loyalty! Could you try being loyal for once?!”
Quentin blinked, a bit taken aback. Then he leaned in, whispering against her ear with maddening calm.
“I know a five–star hotel nearby. The beds are amazing. We can go there and discuss<b>… </b>loyalty.”
Theresa was speechless.
If she had one more free hand, she’d beat the ever–loving crap out of the idiot strapped to her back. At least three hundred sixty–five hits. She’d pound him from the rooftop straight down to the Earth’s mantle if she had the time.
Why had she responded to him? Why?!
Then, suddenly, the climbing rope gave a violent jolt downward.
Theresa, clinging with all four limbs to the taut steel cable and lugging Quentin on her back, nced behind her.
A zombie bridge had formed.
From the building’s sixth–floor window, wave after wave of undead poured out. Most of them slipped and tumbled six stories down, but a few managed to grip the rope.
One scrawny, spider–like female zombie scrambled up, using the mangled corpses of herrades as stepping stones. She was freakishly fast, crawling toward Theresa like a predator on silk.
When the body–pile ran out, the zombieunched forward, dangling midair, limbs wrapped around the wire. Behind her, the next wave didn’t stop. They stomped right over her, driving her body downward with a wet, sickening crunch. /
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Chapter 155 The Rope, the Idiot, and the Fall
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<b>Her </b>neck, thin and brittle, snapped and got wedged hard against the taut cable. The steel wire, under immense tension, sliced into her like a butcher’s de, sawing through flesh, cartge, and bone with a sickening sound.
And still they came. One after another. Climbing, Grabbing. Stepping on the mangled remains <b>of </b>the ones ahead, shrieking and moaning in a grotesque rhythm. Like ants drawn to a lollipop, the scent of human flesh pulled them forward.
Theresa saw the madness unfolding and immediately ditched the banter. She went full beast mode- hands and feet working in frantic harmony as she scaled toward the opposite building.
Behind her, Quentin’s voice drifted up, maddeningly casual.
“Beautiful, this rope seems pretty solid.”
“No sh*t! You better be praying it holds!”
“But… is the anchor point solid?”
The second he said it, the line shuddered.
Theresa felt the force in her arms vanish as the rope went ck. And then–gravity.
She was falling.
Like a paper scrap caught in the wind, she and Quentin plummeted from the sixth floor. The anchor point on the far building had given way–not the rope, but the wall it was screwed into. sterboard. Flimsy. Doomed the second a crowd of zombies had pressed their full weight against it.
Theresa was speechless.
She didn’t scream. She just wanted to curse someone’s entire family tree.
Was Quentin cursed? Was he born under a falling star aimed directly at disaster?
As she dropped, a storm of zombies tumbled after them like hell’s worst pinata burst.
Six floors up. That gave her maybe two seconds before impact.
Falling faster. Faster.
In a split–second reaction, Theresa whipped her arms and wrapped the rope around her wrists. One, two, three loops.
The cable screamed.
The friction lit her palms on fire. She could feel it through her gloves–molten pain, like someone branding her bones.
But she held on. She had to hold on.
Fifth floor. Fourth. Third. Second. Then-
She jerked to a stop halfway between the second and first floors.
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Chapter 155 The Rope, the Idiot, and the Fall
Dangling like a spider on herst strand of silk, Theresa hung suspended in midair.
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Both feet were off the ground. Quentin still clung to her back. Below them, a horde of zombies snarled up- at her–no more than a foot away,
Just one foot away from getting her ankles ripped to shreds.
“Graaah…”
“Raaaah…”
“Uuuhhh…”
They snapped their jaws, hungry eyes locked on her swinging body.
But the real danger wasn’t down below. It wasing from above.
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