After The Apocalypse Season 2 Box Set [Books 4-6] by Hately Warren

Author:Hately, Warren [Hately, Warren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombies
Published: 2020-05-09T22:00:00+00:00

*

THEY WERE LED back across The Mile and then a few blocks south. Carlotta clutched a Glock by her side, but none of them had a reason to gear up as they traversed the shanty-cluttered streets. More people moved around, now the rain had stopped, though the sun seemed to struggle on its way to midday. The winds swirling around them remained fierce, and Karla bitched about the cold, wondering what the apocalypse was like in California. Tom smirked and kept his wits about him and they continued along a row of mangled corrugated fencing boarding up the old neighborhood supermarket now more armored than a battleship.

The store’s new tenants had fixed a cattle run of metal stakes corralling visitors towards a single-door entry canopied with metal sheets, the door itself welded with more metal than anywhere else. Someone had cut out an observation slit with an angle-grinder. Rheumy light from inside vanished as a man’s face appeared to stare out of them unmoved.

Tom had the lead with Carlotta beside him, but she was no help. It was his trade, after all. The man beyond the grate was a thickset American-Italian with a buzz cut and layers of winter clothing over his body armor. The business end of a Remington shotgun popped up at one edge of the slit and Tom cleared his throat.

“You guys are trading?” he asked.

“Depends what you’re after,” the man answered. “And what you got.”

“Couple of spare firearms here,” Tom said. “I’m after meat and fresh food.”

“Unclip the guns and hold ‘em up.”

Tom plucked the magazine from his Mp5 and Karla did the same, but the man behind the window only grunted amusement. The shotgun barrel disappeared, then he motioned to Tom.

“Show me the Ak.”

Resigned dissatisfaction arose in him as Tom unclipped the curved ammo and winced to unwind the leather strap over one shoulder as he held the rifle out level. The trader nodded his approval and hit the bolts, the door levering inwards to reveal a second well-fed man in a woolen cap ready to lift an old-fashioned Browning automatic rifle and wipe them out.

Tom flinched, but no fatal rain of heavy gunfire came. The mob boss with the shotgun accepted the Ak47, dismissing Attila and Karla with a look.

“Just you,” he said to Tom. “And her. Hello, Miss Deschain.”

“Hi Mikey,” she said. “This is Tom Vanicek. Tom? Mikey, Hermano.”

It was the occasion for exchanged nods rather than handshakes. Hermano in the beanie took a strong interest in the Russian gun and demanded the remaining ammo as well. Then they unbolted another locked door to reveal a big storage room. The shelves weren’t exactly crammed, but the view revealed drums, boxes and cans of bulk goods. There was no chiller, so the sides of beef and dog carcass were wrapped in wet hessian and hung from hooks across the back of the room in a disturbing callback for Tom to the Ascended’s slaughterhouse. Tom had a brief flash of Walter, gasping in his shocked

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