The Hungry by Steve Hockensmith, Joe McKinney, Harry Shannon, Steven Booth Page A

the truck, or we hogtie you and throw you in there defenseless. Which is it going to be?"
    Miller couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Did it ever occur to you that…?"
    "That's it!" said the Sergeant. He pulled a pair of flex-cuffs from his belt, twisted her arms behind her, and secured her hands. Darla and Terrill Lee were also smashed against the truck and handcuffed. Scratch, however, had different ideas. He slammed his fist into the face of the nearest Guardsman, caught him right in the jaw and dropped him like a zombie with a bullet in the brainpan. Before he could hit the next one, two of the other Guardsmen bum-rushed and tackled him. The sergeant shoved the barrel of his rifle in Scratch's face. Two Guardsmen wrenched his arms behind him and secured his hands. Then one by one, the soldiers lifted each of them up, dumped them unceremoniously into the waiting truck and climbed in after them. Inside, the Guardsmen dragged them to their feet, and shoved them into a sitting position on the long benches. They hitched their handcuffs to short chains attached to the back of the benches. Nobody was going anywhere for the time being. Not now.
    The sergeant waved his rifle. "Sit there and shut up." He turned to the soldier Scratch had punched. "You okay? Look, if they try anything, you have my permission to feed 'em to the zoms."
    Miller stared at the undead things that were groaning at the back of the vehicle. It looked like a suburban family gotten rotten. They were shackled to the wall of the truck. They struggled against their restraints. Hungry, so hungry.
    "Yes, sergeant," growled the angry soldier, rubbing his jaw. He plopped himself down on the bench opposite them. He sat there, rifle at the ready. The soldier seemed indifferent to the three zombies chained up only a few feet away. His attention was focused on Scratch. He wanted revenge.
    "This is what you consider protective custody?" shouted Terrill Lee. "We haven't done anything wrong. What the hell is going on?"
    What is it about locking up Terrill Lee that somehow he gets a spine and drops a pair of nuts? wondered Miller.
    The soldier just stared. He didn't look up, even when the hungry zombies shook their chains. He wanted Scratch.
    Terrill Lee blustered. "I demand to speak to your commanding officer. I demand…"
    "Just shut up," said Scratch. He was staring back at the soldier with a smirk. "Let's see what happens next."
    The shooting, which up to this point had been more or less continuous, slowly died out. The cleanup was over. A moment later, the rest of the squad boarded the truck, which trembled and began moving. The view of the outside spun sideways in a wave of dust. They turned away from Flat Rock and headed East out into the scorching, eternally flat desert.
    The angry sergeant remained standing. His big body swayed with the motion of the truck. "Macumber, Wells," said the sergeant, indicating two of the soldiers, "you two keep these specimens quiet." The man turned his attention on Miller and the others. "Now, why don't we have us a little chat?"
    Miller almost didn't register the question. She was concentrating on the soldier called Wells. She studied his face. He seemed familiar. With that last name? Still, it was hard to tell who it was under all the black face paint. For his part, Wells studiously ignored her.
    "Hey, wifey!" the sergeant shouted. Miller looked up. She had almost forgotten he was there. "You wanted to talk, big shot. Here's your chance. You go first."
    "What do you want to know?" she asked, cautiously.
    "Let's start with what the hell were you doing in the middle of a pack of zombies driving a stolen police cruiser?"
    "We were trying to survive, Sergeant! " She looked him up and down, trying to decide if he was worth toying with. "We were being chased by a biker gang. The only way out was through the zombies."
    "There was a biker gang after you?"
    Scratch stared stoically at the sergeant. Darla ignored him. She was watching the