Free City of the Dead by Brian Keene Page B

taunts, but the roar of the M-16 drowned them out. She switched to short bursts again, so that she could re-aim the weapon. The inferno raged a few yards away, as Jim's ex-wife's home was reduced to cinders. The heat from the fire roasted her face. She squinted, her eyes watering. Empty brass jackets littered the yard, and smoke poured from the barrel. She continued firing, shredding everything in her path- afraid the weapon would fall apart, but not caring. Heads exploded, and limbs were mangled and torn. What wasn't destroyed in the first barrage was knocked down by the second sweep. The rifle vibrated, sending shockwaves through her body and growing hot in her hands.
    A little girl, shorter than the rest, ducked in below her field of fire and swung a croquet mallet. Frankie stepped back, swept the rifle butt downward, obliterated the child's head, and brought the weapon back up in one fluid motion.
    "Come on. What you got for me? Huh? What you got? You ain't got nothing!"
    Something punched her leg-hard. She looked down and saw blood. A second bullet stung her arm. Another whizzed by, shattering De Santos's kitchen window. A zombie to her right heaved a brick at her. It landed in the yard, barely missing her. The blood continued to flow down her leg and pooled inside her shoe. The wound burned.
    "Shit."
    Another object struck the back of her head. A rock, she thought, even as she yelped in pain. Then she saw what it was as it fell to the ground. A white cue ball, now smeared with her blood.
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    She wondered how much ammunition was left, but pushed the thought from her mind. The magazine held thirty bullets, but in the confusion, she hadn't had time to count her shots. She continued firing, knowing that if she stopped to check now, they'd overrun her. Her leg felt like it was on fire. More heads exploded, their owner's bodies flopping to the ground. One zombie's right arm remained hanging by a thin piece of gristle. It gnawed at the flesh until the arm came free, then clambered after her again, swinging the appendage like a club.
    "Double shit."
    Frankie's head began to throb and her left knee buckled, growing numb. She looked down to see that her entire pant leg was now scarlet. The severed arm crashed against her cheek, jarring her teeth.
    An undead sparrow landed in her hair and tore away a strip of flesh from the wound there. Frankie screamed. Still firing, she beat at the creature with one hand. Immediately, her arc of fire dropped to ground level, sending clots of dirt flying. Arching her back, she readjusted her fire and snatched the bird from her head. She flung it to the ground and crushed it under her bloody boot.
    A one-eyed, three-legged German shepherd stalked towards her, teeth bared. Another rock struck her between the shoulder blades. Her leg, arm and head pounded. Her vision turned red.
    Frankie aimed at the dog and squeezed the trigger.
    The magazine clicked empty.
    "Triple shit."
    The circle of zombies tightened around her.
    They had to shout to be heard above the noise in the garage. Outside, the creatures pounded on the door with sticks and crowbars and fists. Danny clutched Jim's
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    shoulder and Jim winced. The re-opened wound throbbed as Danny pressed harder.
    "My God," Martin breathed. "They're all around us!"
    "We've got to do this quick." Don reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. "You guys get in while I unlock the garage door. Be ready."
    "Who's driving?" Jim asked.
    "I am," Don answered. "You get in the back with Danny."
    "If Frankie's alive ..." Martin began.
    Don interrupted him. "Even if she survived that fall, they've got her by now."
    "We don't know that."
    "Look, do you know how many of those things are outside that door? Get real, man. You can't be sure it's her out there just because you hear an M-16!"
    "We've got to look for her," Martin insisted. "She'd do the same for us."
    Don sighed. "Okay. When we pull out, if we see her, we'll stop. But let's be clear. If helping your