Resurrection: A Zombie Novel by Michael J. Totten

was. He was sorry too. But if Bobby hadn’t been bitten, he’d still be hostile.
    “Look,” Bobby said. “I know Lane. He’s not complicated. And he’s not a bad guy. I know how it looks, but he’s not. Just do what he tells you to do and you’ll be okay. He’ll lighten up if he trusts you. And he’ll keep you alive.”
    “Roland’s coming back,” Annie said. “And he has a hammer.”
    “Oh Jesus,” Bobby said and covered his face with his hands.
    “I’ll talk to him,” Kyle said.
    Bobby just moaned.
    “I’ll talk to him,” Kyle said again.
    Roland was coming at them fast and angry. He had a pistol in one hand, a hammer in the other, and a scarf wrapped around his neck.
    Annie leaned into Kyle. This time he did not feel a warm rush. He felt revulsion, not at her but at what he knew was going to happen.
    “What’s the scarf for?” Annie said.
    Kyle was pretty sure he knew what the scarf was for.
    Roland stopped when he reached Bobby. “Step back.”
    “Make it painless,” Kyle said.
    “I’ve done this before. Step back.”
    “I didn’t ask if you’d done this before. I said make it painless.”
    “Motherfucker,” Roland said and pulled back the hammer as if he’d hit Kyle if he didn’t shut up and step back.
    Kyle and Annie stepped back.
    Roland pulled the scarf up and covered his mouth. “He won’t feel a thing,” he said, this time in a more civilized tone. “He’s my friend, and I’m not a sadist.”
    Bobby turned away from Roland and showed him the back of his head. He covered his ears with his hands and said, “Do it.”
    Annie hugged Kyle and buried her face in his chest so she would not have to look. But Kyle was certain she heard it.
    And when Roland was finished, the scarf over his mouth was flecked with blood.
     
    *   *   *
     
    Annie took the small knife from Bobby’s belt when Kyle and Roland weren’t looking. It took less than a second. It came right off because it was held in place by nothing more than a strap and a snap.

 
    CHAPTER SIX
     
    Lane ordered all the men but Roland into the cooler for the night. Carol and Annie were allowed to sleep on the floor near the bathrooms, but Hughes, Frank, Kyle, and Parker couldn’t be trusted, especially not in the dark, not when Roland and Lane were down a man and needed to sleep.
    Hughes took it in stride. He wasn’t planning to move against Lane or Roland in the night anyway. They’d be on guard. Sure, it was dark. One would be asleep and the other one tired, but they’d be on guard. They’d expect an attack and be ready to shoot.
    The best time to strike would be when Roland and Lane are distracted, preferably by a pack of those things. They couldn’t possibly make it all the way to Olympia and then up to an island without running into a pack or even a horde. That’s when Roland and Lane would go down.
    So what did Hughes care if he spent the night locked in the cooler? All he wanted was sleep. Roland and Lane wouldn’t sleep well—that was for sure—but Hughes would. In the morning he’d be fresh and rested and ready to kick the shit out of sleep-deprived Roland and Lane.
    Frank grumbled under his breath about being locked up. Hughes understood. Kyle cringed when Lane padlocked the door. Hughes understood that, as well. But Parker banged on the door and shouted that Lane was an asshole. That, Hughes did not understand. That was just stupid. Parker might make an outstanding foxhole companion, but he was no good at all under purely psychological pressure.
    The cooler was big enough for everyone to spread out. It was a long rectangular metal box about the size and shape of a shipping container. Hughes and Frank took spots on the floor near the back. Parker sat by the door, no doubt so he could bang on it some more when he got mad. Kyle stayed up there with him. Those two were always fighting. Kyle was perfectly welcome in the back away from Parker and his combustible attitude, but those two had some issues