The Elixir of Da'ath: An Occult Fantasy Thriller (Zombie Apocalypse Book 2) by D.C.P. Fox

Author:D.C.P. Fox [Fox, D.C.P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MZIZ Publishing
Published: 2021-02-22T22:00:00+00:00

Day Fifteen

Marty appeared unconscious. Terry shook him, but Marty didn’t move on his own. Terry feared he might be dead but judged that not likely. Still, he understood their situation was dire. All the training in the world hadn’t prepared him for this. He aimed and fired at a zombie through his open window. The blast landed in the skull, and the zombie went down.

Other zombies were closing fast. There was no time to count them.

Instead, he focused on Marty, whose head was resting on the steering wheel. “Marty, hit the gas!” Maybe yelling at him would wake him up.

Still no response.

Shit.

They had to get out of there and fast. Terry had to make a split-second decision. He might have enough time to exit the car and get into the driver’s seat, but he also needed the time to power the seat back enough.

His shotgun in his right hand, Terry climbed over the console and the transmission shifter, pushed Marty’s head back, and reached over and found the power seat knob. He pushed on it and the seat started moving back, too slowly for Terry’s taste, and during that time, he had to shoot at a zombie one-handed. His first shot hit the shoulder, which only slowed her down, but his next shot hit the skull and dropped her.

Three shells left. Total. His own shotgun had only one.

The seat stopped moving back. Not as far as he wanted, but that was all he got. He crawled on top of Marty, pulled in his stomach, and squeezed himself between Marty’s body and the steering wheel. On his arm, Terry felt the warm slickness of blood from Marty’s presumed bite wound.

He stomped on Marty’s foot, pressing it into the accelerator, and headed as fast as he could toward Clarence’s house.

Please, Marty, don’t be dead. Please.

Terry hadn’t had time to check Marty for a pulse. Even if he weren’t dead, he was pretty sure the zombie had bitten Marty, and in that case they were fucked, because they didn’t have enough shells to put both Marty and Jamie down and their supply of tranquilizer was low. Going in, both of them understood their prospects were bleak. Terry had agreed to do this to gain closure with his family. He had accomplished that, and he was grateful for it. Still, he had trouble forgiving Marty for killing his sister, though he understood why Marty had done it and accepted that.

Terry got halfway there before he finally heard a noise from Marty.

“Oof! What the hell?” Marty was okay. For now.

“You passed out,” Terry said. “I had to improvise.”

“Damn, my foot hurts!”

“That bite on your upper arm must hurt more.” Terry turned onto Clarence’s road and gunned it.

“Yes, it does. More important is, I’m infected.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Alexander believes it is one hundred percent transmissible,” Marty said.

“Your Alexander is full of shit.”

“He is a microbiologist. He pointed out that every victim has become a zombie.”

“After the zombie ate their brain,” Terry countered. “He doesn’t know if one bite on the arm will turn anyone into a zombie.

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