Free Apocalypse Of The Dead by Joe McKinney

over.
    Randy said, “I like your hat. It’s cool.”
    “Randy’s into Westerns,” Margaret said.
    “Great. I like a good Western myself. You ever read Elmer Kelton, Randy?”
    The boy cocked his head to one side. “I’m seven.”
    “Oh. Good point. Tell me, Randy, you ever seen a real marshal’s badge?”
    “No, sir.”
    Ed took out his wallet. Inside was a gold badge. He slid it out, removed it from its backer, and then handed it to Randy.
    “You put that on, okay? You and your sister are gonna be my deputies.”
    The boy’s smile was huge. The girl was still trembling, though. It was going to take more than trinkets to reach her.
    “Margaret,” he said. “What’s the count?”
    “Eight of them,” she said.
    “Okay, that’s no problem.”
    He loaded each of his revolvers in turn from the speed loaders in his gun case. Then he stepped up to the door, a revolver in each hand.
    “Margaret, come over here and do the door for me. When I tell you to, you throw it open, you hear?”
    “Where are we going, Ed?”
    “I left Barbie Denkins in her apartment. We’re gonna go get her. Then we’re gonna make our way over to Julie Carnes’s place. She should still be with Art Waller. From there, I don’t know. You ready?”
    She nodded.
    He turned and winked at the kids. Then he said, “Okay, throw her open.”
    Margaret opened the door and Ed rushed outside. There was a zombie right in front of the door, and Ed put a bullet in its forehead.
    He stepped over the body and went for the others. He didn’t waste time letting them come to him. The sound of gunfire would bring more of the infected, and they had to be gone before that happened.
    Careful to make every shot count, he dropped five of them in short order.
    “Ed!”
    He turned at the sound of Margaret’s voice.
    Two of the infected had gone for the open door instead of for him. They were on the sidewalk now, one on either side of the door.
    Ed stepped between them, raised his revolvers, and dropped both zombies simultaneously.
    When he turned his attention to Margaret and the kids, the boy was looking at him strangely. His eyes were wide, and he wasn’t crying. He was smiling.
    “Whoa,” the boy said. “Mister, that was cool!”

CHAPTER 8
    Ben Richardson was looking over the side of the roof at a small group of zombies clustered around the doorway of the building opposite them. There was another group doing the same thing around the door to their building. What exactly they were doing he couldn’t tell, but something was going on. It almost looked like they were communicating, discussing something.
    He and Barnes had spent most of the morning on the roof of the Clear Lake Title Company, waiting for the infected to get bored and wander off. But they hadn’t. If anything, there were even more of them down there than before. The sound of their moaning chilled some deep interior part of him, something vital. It hadn’t been like this in San Antonio.
    “Hey, Officer Barnes.”
    No answer.
    Richardson looked back. Barnes was sleeping with his back against the stairwell door, a white hand towel draped over his head. Richardson had heard stories of U-boat captains who sometimes took their boats deep to avoid a depth charging and fell asleep, even as the boat creaked and groaned and shuddered all around them. It was one way to show their men there was nothing to fear so as to keep up their morale. For a moment, he wondered if Barnes was trying to do something similar now, but just as quickly he chased the thought away. He didn’t get that sense from Barnes. The man had a stoniness to him that didn’t seem to allow room for compassion for another man’s fear.
    “Officer Barnes.”
    “What do you want?”
    “Can you come here for a second, please?”
    Barnes lifted the towel, annoyed at having his nap interrupted.
    “Please?” Richardson said, and waved him over.
    Barnes crawled over to him.
    “What do you want?”
    Richardson pointed at the