Slow Burn | Book 10 | Firestorm by Adair Bobby

Author:Adair, Bobby [Adair, Bobby]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
ISBN: 9781946954053
Publisher: Beezle Media, LLC
Published: 2021-05-24T04:00:00+00:00

55

Somebody grabbed me by the hips and ground their crotch against my ass. Thankfully they were still covered in their coarse work pants. “We gonna teach this one what he needs teachin’?” It was Mort. Some of the others voiced their enthusiasm.

Murphy told them, “Go back to playing with your dicks for a minute.”

I said, “Murphy, you gonna untie me?”

He shook his head.

My temper flared, but I didn’t figure it was a good time to lose it. “You got a reason for that?”

Murphy nodded and yawned. “You got yourself in a spot, don’t you?”

“But you’re the bull. I guess that means you’re the boss, right?”

“Sometimes it pays not to act like a contrary little brat every day of the week.”

“What does the day of the week have to do with anything?”

“You’re deflecting.” Murphy looked at the men I knew were still arrayed behind me. “Maybe you do need some teachin’.”

“Stop fucking around and untie me before this gets out of hand.”

“You’re really worried, aren’t you?”

“Is that what this is now?” I ground my teeth, doing all I could to keep my temper down. “You want me to learn a lesson?”

Murphy laughed. “Something about old dogs and new tricks or whatever. You’ll never learn anything until you’re good and ready.”

“So, what are we doing here?” I glanced back at the anxious perverts behind me.

Murphy leaned in close. “Man, I’m just messin’ with you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

He belted out a big laugh and fell out of his flimsy chair, catching himself at the last moment and jumping to his feet. “Listen up,” he bellowed, addressing the yellows, “this kind of shit right here, whatever you bunch of butt pluggers think it is, we don’t do that in this barracks no more.”

“Always done it this way,” complained Mort.

“You got a problem with it,” Murphy challenged, “come at me. You know the rule as well as anyone here.”

Complaints grumbled through the room.

“That’s what I thought,” Murphy told them. “Now you bitches untie his skinny ass and square your shit. I told you to get this place clean. It stinks like ass crack in here.”

“Maybe you ain’t no kinda bull,” griped Mort. “Maybe, you’re a teat sucking—”

A bell rang outside, sounding like a church bell in the hands of a manic monk, freezing everyone into perfect silence.

“Everyone outside in five minutes,” Murphy commanded, “geared up and ready to roll. Go, go, go!”

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