Dead Hunger VII_The Reign of Isis by Eric A. Shelman

Author:Eric A. Shelman [Shelman, Eric A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombies, eric a shelman, shelman, flex sheridan, gem cardoza, chesser, tufo, frater, dead hunger vii, woodhead
Publisher: Eric A. Shelman
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

*****

Isis and Max waited across the street out of view. They had arrived in time to see the Jeep crash through the fence and begin to plow down the Mothers and Hungerers.

The throes of death, when experienced by the undead, was an extraordinary sound. The shrieks were not of terror but of pure pain, not experienced in an oral sense.

It was not pain in the traditional sense; the Mothers and Hungerers projected their dying agony as frustration for no longer being able to consume flesh and satisfy their insatiable appetites. They did not know that beyond this supernatural life they lived was peace, silence and pure darkness.

They also did not know that finally, their red and pink eyes would fade and silence would overtake them, allowing their bodies to dissolve to dust as they should have done so long ago.

Soon it was over and Isis knew the creatures in the cage had fallen back under the control of the Hybrids and Mothers. A man, pulling Nelson by the length of his hair balled in his fist, a large caliber handgun to his head, stood among the remaining Mothers and Hungerers. There were still well over a thousand of them left alive, as far as Isis could tell.

“Isis,” said Max. “Should we intervene?”

“There are two many of them,” she said, indicating toward the Hybrids.

Max turned his head and saw them there. They had moved into the street, now standing against the south fence by the original entry gate, staring into the cage.

These were not the Hybrids Max and Isis had met; they still wore their orange jumpsuits with the DOC stenciling on the backs, and each was still chained to the other, as they likely always were.

Their words were clear in the heads of Max and Isis. Calm. Stay. Remain still.

Words for us; abstract, decipherable commands for the walking dead.

Still, the command issued by the captive Hybrids was as clear to Isis as it was to them. She may as well have issued it herself.

“Come out now,” shouted Maestro again. “I’ll count to three. Surely you know how fast that goes.”

He did not wait. “One!” he called. “Two!”

He drew back the hammer and smiled.

“Wait!” shouted Hemp, rising from the weeds to the right of the destroyed pen.

“Ah, there you are. Where are the rest of you?”

“C’mon guys,” said Hemp. “We’ve nowhere to go. Flex can’t run on that ankle. We’d best surrender.”

“You’re a smart man,” said Maestro. “Hurry and get into the street. All of you.”

The man was of medium height and was again shirtless. The demonic facial ink, which may or may not have been a tattoo, made him appear to be more of a Joker from a deck of cards, but it was clear his intention had been to make his face appear as a skull. From a distance, he had achieved that effect.

The tuxedo drawn or tattooed on him gave him the appearance of an evil symphony conductor; it adorned his entire abdomen, the character’s sleeves extending all the way to Maestro’s wrists.

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