Rotting to the Core (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 2) by S.P. Durnin

ground before they killed a bunch of innocent people, and do it
without making waves or anyone becoming the wiser. George had been
good at it too. So good, he'd stopped keeping track of his body
count in the early '70s. Jake had no doubt Foster would be able to
'encourage' their captive to part with some helpful
information.
    Now, what condition the raider would be in
afterwards...
    Rounding the lunch counter's far end, Jake
paused at the door which led to the kitchen proper, put his ear
against it lightly, and listened. He didn't hear any movement. No
shambling footsteps, no involuntary clacking together of dead
teeth, nothing. He didn't hear the dark-haired Penny rooting around
in the drawers or searching for them either. Had she even been
there yet, or had she already scoured that end of the school and
moved on? Maybe she was heading to meet up with Jerry and Benjamin
at that very moment? He had to find out. Maybe, if he was cautious,
Jake could overcome her without excessive noise. That would allow
him to double back and provide Kat with some support as she stalked
the pair above.
    Readying his Hulk-sized semi-automatic, Jake
pushed the door open a few inches. There was no response from
within the kitchen, No gurgling moans and (more importantly) no
rounds from Penny's Remington came from inside, so he gently opened
the door just enough to slide through. It was dark in there, but
not so much that Jake couldn't make out the industrial-grade ovens
lining the far wall. He looked about, keeping his Hammer pistol
extended to retain a sight picture, and saw nothing. No movement
anywhere. There were a pair of freezers over to the right of the
ovens and a door leading out on the far side of the room a few
paces closer. Jake moved quickly to the door and quietly latched
the deadbolt. He'd clear the freezers first (wouldn't do to have
any stray zombies coming up behind him as he continued on after
Penny), then move on to the next room.
    Upon reaching the first freezer door, Jake
put his ear to it and closed his eyes. There. Something in the
freezer had quietly bumped into the wall. A pair of low moans,
along with the soured blood all over the floor in front of the
freezer entrance confirmed its occupants were no longer among the
living. He picked up a meat thermometer from the nearby counter and
quietly slid it into the latch. The creatures inside had been there
for some time without opening the door, but Jake was damned if he'd
rely on their lack of cognitive abilities. Who knew? Maybe one of
them might accidentally bump the door plunger inside, it would pop
open, and he'd end up with a few dozen really nasty, really
painful, zombie-hickies. Right before he bled out. Then get up and
tried to do the same to anyone he encountered. Like say, Kat.
Pushing thoughts of giving Kat a hickie (among other things) out of
his mind, Jake moved to the second freezer. Upon pressing his ear
to the cool metal, Jake heard nothing. That didn't prove no one
(and more importantly nothing) was inside, though. Considering the
door for a moment, Jake decided checking wasn't worth the risk and
retrieved a Zip-tie from his vest. He passed its tip through the
handle latch, inserted it back through the one-way hoop on the tie,
and pulled it tight. That door wasn't opening from the inside now
either.
    Checking his surroundings again, Jake moved
carefully past the racks of nonperishables towards the kitchen's
rear entrance. All sorts of bulk goods still remained, which he
assumed Penny and Co. hadn't mentioned to 'Her', whoever 'She' was.
The fact the trio had been hording supplies from people they'd been
surviving with for months however, in his opinion spoke volumes
about their moral character. Jake inspected a few of the shelves as
he passed. Peas, green beans, yams, fruit cocktail, chicken stock,
kidney beans, stewed tomatoes, pudding...
    Christ. Who'd want to eat 112 ounces of
chocolate pudding? Jake shuddered briefly at the thought and
crept onward.
    When