The Undead World (Book 11): The Apocalypse Origin by Meredith Peter

Author:Meredith, Peter [Meredith, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Published: 2020-02-12T05:00:00+00:00

4-

“Ahh, son of a bitch!” Christian growled, giving a long look around. “This is why I don’t pick up strays. If you weren’t here, I’d just run away. No harm, no foul.”

“Please run away,” Jillybean urged as the two female monsters drew closer. Somehow, they had both retained their bras and no other stitch of clothing. “I’m not in any danger.”

Unless he keeps shooting and you keep talking, Ipes reminded her.

Much to Jillybean’s disappointment, Christian wouldn’t leave her. “No. It wouldn’t be right. I told you about karma. I’m pretty sure that if I let you die, it’ll be bad ju-ju for me. Just sit there and try not to be a problem.”

You heard the man, Ipes said.

“I did.”

So why aren’t you sitting there not being a problem? What you’re doing looks a lot like a problem to me.

As Christian stood, firing his rifle and knocking down zombie after zombie in a wonderful display of marksmanship, Jillybean had grabbed the gas can and was dousing the wall of shrubs just behind them.

If you use up all his gas, he’s gonna be pissed off, Jilly. Jilly? Jilly! She used up all the gas.

“I had to,” she told him, pulling out her own lighter—a battered Zippo she had painted flat black. She lit the bushes. Christian turned to stare as twenty linear feet of shrubbery went up in a roar of flames. He choked when he saw the empty gas container tossed to the side. “I had to,” she explained. “You don’t have enough bullets.” By doing a quick, five-second analysis using two random subsections of the attacking monsters, she had calculated that there were at least a hundred and six coming at them, and she knew Christian had only brought along three magazines. Even if he killed one with each shot, there would still be at least sixteen to deal with, though she figured it would be closer to double that number because no one was that good of a shot.

“And now I don’t have enough gas!”

“I had to use it to save you.”

“I don’t need saving. I’m the grown-up!”

In her experience, grown-ups needed saving all the time. She ran and grabbed his hand, thinking she would pull him to a four-foot section within the flaming wall of fire where she had not poured any gas. There was a gap near the ground to crawl through. She yanked on his hand and he yanked back. She strained even harder; it was like trying to pull an oak tree through a door and she almost pulled her own arm out of its socket.

“We have to go!” she shouted. The summer had been a dry one and the plants might have gone up even without the gas. She could see his pursed lips and knew he was saying, Hmmm though she couldn’t hear it. “What’s there to think about?” she demanded. “The smoke will hide us. We can escape.”

“I know, which is why I was thinking that this might be a good time to take off.

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