A Pound of Flesh: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse (45 page)

After one last bone jarring jounce the
vehicle crunched to a halt. He heard the snick and the slam as the
madman exited.

Footsteps.

Another click, only near his head.

A tug.

Weightlessness, and then jagged rocks and
moist gravel biting into his side as he met the ground hard and
lost his wind.

Except for his labored breathing—silence.

Suddenly the hood was off and the blazing sun
was eyefucking him.

As he fought to open his eyes, new sounds
reached his ears. An emphysemic rasping sound. Rattling chain? No,
it was chain-link fence he decided.

More footsteps. He sensed the sun displaced
then willed his eyes open. Of course the madman was the shadow’s
owner and he was holding a black pistol.

Cade grabbed Francis by an elbow and roughly
dragged him into the corridor between the security fences.

Eyes finally adjusted, Francis took in his
surroundings. He was in a walkway between two very tall chain link
fences topped off with razor wire. Half a dozen zombies pressed the
fence three feet away. The wind shifted, bringing their stench to
his nose. He grimaced, not from the smell but because he had an
idea what the madman had in store for him. Then he watched the man
stride forward and methodically walk down the fence line and shoot
five of the six creatures in the head. The one that was spared
growled indifferently at its compadres’ demise.

The fact that the tall soldier hadn’t said a
word since they left the police station was very unnerving.
Say
something
, Francis thought,
anything.

Fight back
, Pug whispered.
Head-butt the fucker you pussy
.

Kneeling next to the prisoner, Cade flipped
the man over onto his stomach, drew his Gerber and gently tapped it
on the trembling man’s cheek.

Francis went wild-eyed and squirmed against
the flex-cuffs.

The madman smiled and reached for the leg
restraints.

As Cade drew the razor sharp blade across
both of the prisoner’s Achilles tendons, the man’s primal scream
was suppressed by the length of duct tape. Cade waited until
Francis’s sobs slowed, and then watched his reddened eyes dart to
the creature and then back to the blood slickened knife. This went
on for a minute as the excited creature hissed and rattled the
fence, bony fingers kneading metal.

He knows
, Cade thought as he stepped
around Francis’s prone body. He unlocked the gate and, using it as
a barrier, allowed the lone walker access to the meat.

The prisoner belly flopped and tried to inch
along the soggy ground like a snake.

Fitting
, Cade thought as the creature
ignored him and fell atop the bleeding man.

After closing and locking the outside gate he
swiftly sidestepped the carnage and repeated the process with the
interior gate.

Totally helpless, trussed and face down,
Francis ceased fighting and went limp.

The monster went for the neck first; yellowed
teeth gnashing, the thing came up with a sizable hunk of bloodied
flesh trailing veins and sinew.

Cade let the feeding commence for a moment,
then stuck the Glock’s muzzle through the fence and put a bullet in
the creature’s brain.

The prisoner struggled under the Z’s dead
weight, making a bloody dirt angel as he fought to stay among the
living.

For my baby, for Carl, and for the untold
others you have murdered
, Cade thought sadly. Then he opened
the inner fence, cut the plastic restraints from the dying man,
reentered the base, and secured the fence once again.

Cade sat on the Humvee’s warm hood, gazing at
Desantos’ grave and the rifle and helmet and pair of now muddy
combat boots that had been left there to honor the warrior. He
shifted his gaze to Pug’s unmoving body and waited.

First a twitch, then he thought he saw the
body shift. Soon Omega had run its course through the dead man’s
body and he had fully reanimated and was the one gripping the fence
moaning for meat.

Full circle
, Cade thought as he strode
to the fence. He drew the black Gerber and plunged the honed blade
into the fresh kill’s eye socket. He felt the serrated edge grate
against the Z’s orbital bone as he yanked it free, letting the
fresh corpse fall to the ground.

For you Mike.

Epilogue

Outbreak - Day 12

Schriever AFB

A whole day’s worth of warm sunshine flushed
down the drain, Taryn thought. After being asked to disrobe by a
woman soldier, and then, like a prisoner or something she had been
thoroughly searched inside and out, she spent twelve hours in
quarantine being watched over by grim faced soldiers who in her
opinion were just one notch below Dickless. No, take that back, she
thought. Dickless was on a pedestal all his own and she was glad
she was the one who ultimately knocked him off. Sounds kinda
Sopranoesque
she mused. Knocked him off. Rubbed him out.
Made him sleep with the fishes. She snickered.

She needed to find a bed and get some quality
sleep minus the door banging, knob rattling and familiar dead faces
pressed against the glass.

The soldier who had given her a map of the
base had crossed out the civilian quarters in black sharpie and
told her to not go there, making it crystal clear that that area of
the base was off limits. However, he had pointed out an alternate
set of temporary shelters that had been used by the medical
personnel and were now empty. “Take your pick,” he had said. “Lock
your door,” he had stressed.

Mounting the steps, Taryn checked the door.
Locked.
She tried the key.
Click
—success.

After heeding the soldier’s advice and
locking the door behind her, she tossed the new camouflage clothes
the soldier insisted that she take onto the desk near the door.

The oblong room held three bunk beds arranged
in a row near the rear of the building and as many desks evenly
spaced along the right wall. A door beyond the bunks led to a small
bathroom. What a luxury, she thought. No more squatting on
Richard’s carpet.

She rifled through the desks.
Empty
.

Strangely, the prefab building didn’t smell
anything like a hospital. But then medical personnel, the
dwelling’s previous tenants, probably didn’t take the odor home
with them either.

She looked at her iPhone, and noticing that
it still held a little charge, plugged in her ear buds. Then she
turned off the overhead light plunging the room into darkness.
Electricity, another luxury, she mused as she thumbed her phone on
and used the soft glow it threw off to navigate her new environs.
Then she settled on the bottom bed of the nearest bunk and started
scrolling through her vast music collection.

Jimi
?
No
.

Shins
?
No
.

Blue Oyster Cult... perfect.

Engrossed in the tune and far from fearing
the Reaper, Taryn noticed the light from the iPhone’s display
reflecting off of something that had been tucked between the slats
and the mattress of the top bed. She reached up and grasped the
small brushed metal object, and as she pulled it free the distinct
blue packaging and the word Oreo leapt out at her. Forgetting about
the device that initially had caught her attention, she extracted
the hidden booty and greedily wolfed down the unexpected treats.
Brushing the crumbs from the bed, she picked up the thumb drive and
turned it over in her palm. On one side the words PROPERTY OF THE
CDC had been etched into the aluminum case. On the flip side
someone had written FUENTES in bold black letters with a
sharpie.

Better have some awesome music on it
,
she thought to herself. She put the drive aside, rolled over and
closed her eyes, then listened for the cowbell.

###

Thanks for reading
A Pound of Flesh
.
Look for Book 5:
Allegiance
, the forthcoming novel in the
Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse
series in the summer of
2013. Please Friend Shawn Chesser on
Facebook