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

zombies, those child-like eyes stretched wide with terror.
    "Why were they chasing you?" the Sergeant asked Miller. And now he was studying Scratch more carefully.
    "Why do bikers do anything?" asked Miller. "Because they thought they could rape and murder us and get away with it. Under the circumstances, they were probably right. Thank God we had these two men on our side."
    The sergeant kept his gaze on Scratch for a moment longer. He let it go. He turned his attention back to Miller. "Okay, and what happened to your shoulder?"
    This brought Miller up short. She wasn't in a hurry to explain what happened back in the jailhouse the day before. The whole thing was an embarrassing blur. God, had it only been yesterday?
    The sergeant became impatient. "I asked you a question!"
    "Oh, this? I cut myself shaving," said Miller. She'd had enough. "Look, dipshit, why don't you just tell us exactly where we're going and why you're restraining an officer of the law?"
    The Sergeant reddened. "That's classified."
    "Classified? What kind of bullshit answer is that?"
    "It's the only answer you're going to get, lady." The soldier turned his attention on Scratch. "Hey, model citizen. Why don't you tell me why your kind of boys were chasing you?"
    "Why don't you suck my cock, skeezix?" replied Scratch. He hawked up a wad of mucus, and cheerfully spat on the sergeant's boot.
    The sergeant looked down at his soiled boot. He keyed the mic on his shoulder. "Stop the truck," he commanded.
    The driver immediately braked, and the truck wavered as it came to a halt. The angry soldier brought his face close to theirs. He said softly, "Here's the way this is going to work. You're going to answer my questions truthfully and promptly, or I'm going to drop you off in the middle of the desert chained to these poor fucks," he said, gesturing to the zombie family. "How long do you think you'll last if I do that?"
    Darla whimpered, the terror in her eyes growing worse. The sergeant focused on her. "What about you?" he asked her. "You got anything to say?"
    "Don't let them things eat me," she begged.
    "Why don't you tell me what's going on."
    "All I know is that the lady sheriff had arrested Scratch here. When the zombies came, she had to let him go after he'd shot her. I was with the Blood Riders when they ran into her and this wimpy guy. They ran over one of us, so we went after 'em. Everything was going great until Scratch went AWOL and took us with him. That's when we drove into the zombies, and you burned them up for us. That's it."
    "So the model citizen shot the sheriff. Huh." The soldier turned to Miller. "Wanna try this again?"
    "Look," said Miller, "what happened, happened. Scratch saved our lives back there, and under these circumstances, that's all you need to know."
    "What about you, cowboy," said the sergeant to Terrill Lee. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
    "I know less than she does," Terrill Lee said. "Penny here came to me to fix up that shoulder after she got shot and got all that zombie crap all over her face and clothes and that open wound. I cleaned everything as best I could. She was really brave. So I patched her up and gave her something to wear, and right then…"
    Suddenly he stopped, realizing that all the soldiers were now pointing their weapons at Miller.
    The Sergeant said, "Are you telling us she's recently come into contact with zombie blood?"
    Miller stared at Terrill Lee in disbelief. Could he really be that stupid?
    The sergeant keyed his mic on his shoulder again. "Marcus, get moving. One of the prisoners is contaminated. Get us back to base on the double."
    "Yes, sergeant," came the static-filled reply. The truck lurched forward, steadily accelerating. They had to hang on to the walls to keep from bouncing sideways into the zombie family. The soldiers stayed away, their weapons trained on the prisoners. They seemed far more scared now. Scratch spat on the floor again, then closed his eyes and pretended to go to