The Dead Collection Box Set #1: Jack Zombie Books 1-4 by Flint Maxwell

Author:Flint Maxwell [Maxwell, Flint]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Void Press
Published: 2019-06-29T22:00:00+00:00

Two

“Geez, we need to get you two a couple of chastity belts,” Norm quips once I shut the door.

Maybe a week or two ago I would feign like I’m going to hit him and smile and say, Two for flinching, joking around like brothers are supposed to do in stressful situations, but I don’t. Instead, I just grin and say, “Good one, Norm,” then hand him a pistol.

He laughs. I hear no humor in it.

We walk on.

The Honda Civic is pretty banged up. The front end is squashed, as if a giant had stepped down on the hood. What the car crashed into, I don’t know. The trunk is mostly intact. A scraped H and CIVIC written in chrome shines in the hazy, early afternoon light.

Glass crunches beneath our feet as we get closer. I find it getting harder and harder to breathe. Mainly, because there’s a chance that whoever was in this car was Doctor Klein and an even bigger chance that if he — or anyone, for that matter — was in the car, they’d be dead. Without Doc Klein, this man who has become a fabled legend to me over the past few days, I really don’t know what our next move is. We can keep driving around, weaving in and out of dead cars, trying to find our next meal, our next roof over our heads, avoiding zombies and crazy cowboys, but I don’t want that. I want stability. I want the old world back. With Doctor Klein, I think we can make that happen. I don’t know why I feel that way with all I have to go on being Herb’s love for the guy, and rightfully so. The Doc is the reason Herb is still alive and not some mutilated corpse back in Eden. I’m in debt to any man who has helped save one of my own. Am I crazy? Maybe, but hope is what keeps up going. And with Doctor Klein there is hope. Hope is a good thing.

“Look,” Norm says, pointing to the driver’s side door, which hangs off the car like a broken wing.

I close my eyes and bow my head. Quickly, I stand straight. I know they’re all watching me from the van. The moment I look dejected is the moment they lose that hope. So I bend down and brush something off of my boot, readjust my pant leg, and act like Norm hasn’t just pointed to a set of bloody hand prints in the road or the red liquid dripping off the steering wheel.

Someone is in there, all right.

Norm’s pace slows down. Before Eden, he’d be the first to sprint toward the chaos. Now, he’s reluctant. So I take the lead, limping, and my older brother follows.

I hear the car door open behind me, then Herb’s voice. “Is he okay, Jacky?”

I turn around and shout back, “I’ll let you know in a minute, Herb. Might not even be him.”

Abby tugs him back into the van.

Poor guy.

Before I turn my head back to the wrecked car, Norm says, “Shit.

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