A Fistful of Zombies: 12 Zombie Tales by Hatchell Dane

Author:Hatchell, Dane [Hatchell, Dane]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Mind Hemorrhage Press
Published: 2013-02-22T16:00:00+00:00

*

A white van with NOPD painted in blue pulled up to the gates at the Brown’s Dairy plant and blinked the headlights.

A short man dressed in his black NOPD uniform approached from within the fence and opened the gate. The van pulled far up enough to clear and stopped.

The Officer closed the gate and hurried to the driver’s side window.

“Hey man, you’re late. Is your radio broken? Is—” the Officer’s words stopped as his face met a blackjack from the opened window.

The van pulled in behind the plant with its headlights off and stopped behind an old refrigeration unit.

“Stay close to me. Don’t give them any reason to shoot first and ask questions later,” Pheromone said to Rotten, and exited.

The two slinked through the shadows looking for a way in. “There’s some double doors over there.” Pheromone shoved Rotten forward, using him as a dead-meat shield to lead the way.

The doors were old and rusty. Pheromone twisted the handle back and forth without success. “Rotten, see if you can break the lock. Try not to make any noise.”

“Don’t break the door. I have a key,” a voice called from behind.

Pheromone and Rotten turned around and saw an angry police officer and looking down the barrel of his Glock 22.

“Hello, Officer. Fine night for a stroll, isn’t it?” Pheromone said.

“You boys are on the wrong side of town to be dressed that way, aren’t you?” the officer said.

“Yeah, you right. I guess me and my buddy will be leaving now. Thanks,” Pheromone said.

“If you make a move, I’ll shoot. I mean it.”

Pheromone turned his head and whispered to Rotten. “I got a plan. Follow my lead.” Then, turned to the Officer. “Whatever you say, boss. Just keep your finger off the trigger.”

The Officer removed Pheromone’s Desert Eagle from the holster. “Back away from the door. I’m going to introduce you to a few of my friends.”

Pheromone and Rotten stepped back as the officer opened the door, keeping one eye, and the gun, pointed on the duo.

Inside, nine other police officers moved hurriedly about.

“Open the cage, and let’s get the line going,” the Chief said.

The dead, great and small, lumbered out in single file with the direction of electric cattle prods to keep them in line. Duct tape wrapped over the head and under the jaw kept the officers safe from the hungry ghouls. Plastic handcuffs secured the wrist in front and at the waist, each zombie tethered at the ankle with cuff and chain.

“Excuse me, Chief?”

Connick and Mayor Andrew turned around at the request of officer Williams and came face to face with an unexpected problem.

“I found them outback. They arrived in Barnes’ van. They were trying to break in.” Williams handed Connick the Desert Eagle.

The Chief inspected the shiny gold weapon. “Where’s Barnes?”

“He’s not here. The cargo is missing also. What do you want me to do with these two?” officer Williams said.

Mayor Andrew stepped forward and eyed the two interlopers. “What do we have here? A ballet dancer and a football player?”

“No, sir.

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