Badlands Trilogy (Book 2): Beyond the Badlands by Brian J. Jarrett

eyes follow him. They held a look, an accusation, maybe even a warning.
    Then it was gone, as if it had never happened.
    With the decision made, Danny folded up the map and jammed it into the backpack. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he followed his two companions to the railroad tracks.
    Kansas City might just be a stop along the way for Ryan and Beth, but if Danny had anything to say about it, he’d be forever parting ways with them once they walked into the city. For now, he just needed to bide his time.

Chapter Twenty-Three

    One minute Ryder was searching the darkness for the whore who killed his brother, the next a deadwalker had its teeth buried in his neck. Reflexively he grabbed at his attacker, dropping the flashlight. He found a handful of the deadwalker’s tangled and matted hair and pulled with all his might, attempting to force the carrier off, but it only gripped harder, sinking its overgrown fingernails into his shoulders.
    Yelling, Ryder threw an elbow, connecting with the deadwalker’s face. It growled, biting down and tearing at his flesh. He threw another elbow, smashing the carrier’s nose. Blood poured. It lifted its teeth from his neck and released an ear-piercing scream.
    He slammed two more elbows into the thing’s face, knocking it backward. It staggered, temporarily stunned. The carrier shrieked with teeth bared, lunging for a second attack as Ryder pulled the pistol from his hip holster and leveled it. He pulled the trigger and the shot exploded like a bomb. The carrier fell, hands clutching its stomach as it writhed and moaned on the floor.
    With the carrier down, he turned to find the girl. Suddenly white-hot pain seared in his lower back. His legs suddenly gave out as he collapsed to the floor in a heap.
    * * *
    With all the strength left in her, Trish rammed the knife into Ryder’s back. He dropped fast and hard, knocking the gun from his grasp. It skidded across the floor, coming to a quick halt a few feet away.
    “You bitch! I can’t feel my fucking legs!” he cried as he lay on the concrete floor, the knife still lodged in his spinal cord.  
    Near him, the carrier lay bleeding from the gunshot wound. The smell of blood and fresh feces from its exploded gut mingled with the odor of rotting meat and urine. Trish stooped quickly, retrieving the gun and the flashlight. The pistol went into her back pocket as she walked to where Ryder lay, still cursing her.
    “What did you do to me?” he yelled, writhing as he struggled to retrieve the knife from his back.
    Placing a foot on his back, Trish shoved him, pinning him face down on the concrete. Gripping the knife, she yanked hard, tearing it out of Ryder’s back as he fought. He yelled again, arms flailing as blood leaked from the knife wound, speckling the dirty concrete floor.
    “I’ll fucking kill you,” he bellowed, grimacing and breathing hard. The carrier moaned loudly beside them, its voice traveling throughout the expansive warehouse. Trish walked quickly to the stinking monster, pinned its head to the floor with her foot and slashed its throat with the knife. The loud groaning quickly turned to quiet, wet gurgles.
    Ryder continued to threaten as he dragged himself slowly across the warehouse floor. “I haven’t even begun with you yet.” His voice sounded labored and tired. “I’m gonna open you up.”
    Trish surprised herself by laughing out loud. An image of the Black Knight from Monty Python’s The Holy Grail entered her mind, but she couldn’t bring herself to laugh. “Face it, Ryder. It’s over. You lost.”
    “Bullshit. You don’t get to tell me when it’s over, bitch.”
    Trish knelt in front of him. “If you have a god, I’d suggest you get right with him.”
    Ryder glared back at her. “You don’t have the guts to kill me.”
    She shined the light into his eyes. “I don’t have the guts not to.”
    Ryder’s eyes widened as she leaned in with the knife.
    Then a shrill scream tore through the