yet.
The Bitch feels like a ten-ton weight in my hand as I watch Leeds close the distance between us. Mondello, and the crowd are laughing their asses off. I hear the pure joy in their voices, knowing the joke is on me. Ha, ha, ha, mother fuckers. I get out of this and you’re all going to die.
I get set and swing out with The Bitch, but Leeds dodges it easily and skids to a stop in the gravel, just feet from me. He watches me hungrily, but he doesn’t attack. Somewhere up in that undead brain , he’s actually making connections. I’ve never seen a Z act like this before. Sure, I’ve been around fresh ones, but there was never any significant cognitive function. Not this way.
I make a mental note to remember that trained killers like Leeds make for really scary Zs.
A low growling comes from Leeds throat and he begins to circle around me, his eyes darting from me to The Bitch. The mother fucker is stalking me! And watching my weapon while doing it. Jesus H. Pooping Christ.
I hoist The Bitch above my head one handed, turning myself to the side so I present a smaller target. Uh, did that just make Leeds smile? Is that a smile on a fucking Z’s face? Just when I thought the whole creepy military smile couldn’t get creepier , it does. Fucking A.
“Come on, Captain,” I say. “Come at me. Let’s get this done.”
And he does. In a burst of speed, he closes the distance between us. I barely have time to bring The Bitch down. It only grazes him across the back as he tackles me about the waist, sending us both flying through the air, and then skidding across the gravel. I can feel rocks rip through my shirt and into my back.
The smell of blood makes Leeds crazy, but in a good way. He seems to lose control and just starts thrashing on me. I slam my fist into his jaw again and again, giving me time to get a knee under him. I lift and get some space between us. He roars and spits, his hands clawing at me, his jaws chomping on air over my face. I try to shove him off with my leg, but his fingers grip my shirt and he pulls himself down closer. It’s a battle of wills as I am barely able to keep him at bay with my leg.
Fuck it.
I start boxing his head with both hands, screaming each time my right hand smashes into him. Leeds tries to shake it off, but I keep at it, knocking that Z brain of his around, sending it bouncing back and forth against the inside of his skull. It doesn’t quell his Z rage, but it does disorient him enough that he loses focus. I shove hard with my leg and he tumbles off me.
Rolling, rolling, rolling, I put space between us. And The Bitch. Which sucks. Dammit.
I get to my feet just as he does , and I start to run. I mean fuck it, why not? Around and around in circles we go, me running for my life, him running for a meal. The crowd begins to boo at the lack of action. And I thought this was North Carolina? The home of NASCAR? Don’t these fuckers like watching people go around and around and around, over and over and over? It’s the Apocalypse 500, y’all!
The running in circles is making me dizzy, or that could be blood loss from my shoulder, and I stumble just enough for Leeds to catch up to me. His hands grab my shoulders and he brings me down like a mother fucking undead lion does to a gazelle. I don’t really want to be the gazelle in this scenario. Not that there’s any scenario where I’d want to be the gazelle.
I use our momentum and tuck my shoulder, sending us into a rolling dive. Leeds ends up on his back, under me, but his head is close enough that I feel the air tickle my ear hairs , as his jaws chomp closed. I slam my elbow into his face and shove myself to my feet, screaming again as I put all my weight on my broken hand.
Holding my hand to my chest, I book ass to The Bitch, scooping it up just as Leeds gets up and comes at me. I don’t stop, I don’t think, I just swing. And connect. I feel the spikes dig into the soft flesh of his cheek and I pull back, shredding his
The Bitch feels like a ten-ton weight in my hand as I watch Leeds close the distance between us. Mondello, and the crowd are laughing their asses off. I hear the pure joy in their voices, knowing the joke is on me. Ha, ha, ha, mother fuckers. I get out of this and you’re all going to die.
I get set and swing out with The Bitch, but Leeds dodges it easily and skids to a stop in the gravel, just feet from me. He watches me hungrily, but he doesn’t attack. Somewhere up in that undead brain , he’s actually making connections. I’ve never seen a Z act like this before. Sure, I’ve been around fresh ones, but there was never any significant cognitive function. Not this way.
I make a mental note to remember that trained killers like Leeds make for really scary Zs.
A low growling comes from Leeds throat and he begins to circle around me, his eyes darting from me to The Bitch. The mother fucker is stalking me! And watching my weapon while doing it. Jesus H. Pooping Christ.
I hoist The Bitch above my head one handed, turning myself to the side so I present a smaller target. Uh, did that just make Leeds smile? Is that a smile on a fucking Z’s face? Just when I thought the whole creepy military smile couldn’t get creepier , it does. Fucking A.
“Come on, Captain,” I say. “Come at me. Let’s get this done.”
And he does. In a burst of speed, he closes the distance between us. I barely have time to bring The Bitch down. It only grazes him across the back as he tackles me about the waist, sending us both flying through the air, and then skidding across the gravel. I can feel rocks rip through my shirt and into my back.
The smell of blood makes Leeds crazy, but in a good way. He seems to lose control and just starts thrashing on me. I slam my fist into his jaw again and again, giving me time to get a knee under him. I lift and get some space between us. He roars and spits, his hands clawing at me, his jaws chomping on air over my face. I try to shove him off with my leg, but his fingers grip my shirt and he pulls himself down closer. It’s a battle of wills as I am barely able to keep him at bay with my leg.
Fuck it.
I start boxing his head with both hands, screaming each time my right hand smashes into him. Leeds tries to shake it off, but I keep at it, knocking that Z brain of his around, sending it bouncing back and forth against the inside of his skull. It doesn’t quell his Z rage, but it does disorient him enough that he loses focus. I shove hard with my leg and he tumbles off me.
Rolling, rolling, rolling, I put space between us. And The Bitch. Which sucks. Dammit.
I get to my feet just as he does , and I start to run. I mean fuck it, why not? Around and around in circles we go, me running for my life, him running for a meal. The crowd begins to boo at the lack of action. And I thought this was North Carolina? The home of NASCAR? Don’t these fuckers like watching people go around and around and around, over and over and over? It’s the Apocalypse 500, y’all!
The running in circles is making me dizzy, or that could be blood loss from my shoulder, and I stumble just enough for Leeds to catch up to me. His hands grab my shoulders and he brings me down like a mother fucking undead lion does to a gazelle. I don’t really want to be the gazelle in this scenario. Not that there’s any scenario where I’d want to be the gazelle.
I use our momentum and tuck my shoulder, sending us into a rolling dive. Leeds ends up on his back, under me, but his head is close enough that I feel the air tickle my ear hairs , as his jaws chomp closed. I slam my elbow into his face and shove myself to my feet, screaming again as I put all my weight on my broken hand.
Holding my hand to my chest, I book ass to The Bitch, scooping it up just as Leeds gets up and comes at me. I don’t stop, I don’t think, I just swing. And connect. I feel the spikes dig into the soft flesh of his cheek and I pull back, shredding his
Similar Books
