Free The Renegades (A Post Apocalyptic Zombie Novel) by Jack Hunt Page A

only the beginning, and the future didn’t look bright. It was bloody, and full of possibilities, but more unknowns.

HAVE FAITH
    T he largest grocery store for the town of Castle Rock was located a fair distance from the gun store. It was east, just off the main road. We had two options. Navigate our way over to Jim’s Gifts, break in and climb to the roof, and then proceed to move across the tops until we got to the far end of the town. We would then have a half a mile trek to the parking lot. Alternatively we could risk checking vehicles and attempt to blow our way through the undead that came at us.
    We flicked for it.
    I tossed a nickel in the air. Heads we hit the roof, tails we attempted the suicide mission of finding a car that still had keys and gas inside.
    When I removed my hand, it was tails.
    “Best out of three?” I suggested.
    Specs laughed when it came up tails again.
    “You won’t be laughing when they bite you in the ass,” I said.
    Heading out that morning, we felt a hell of a lot more prepared. Specs, Baja, Jessica, and I had volunteered to do the run. Dax didn’t like it one bit. He wanted to be in on anything that was about to go down, especially if it involved me taking charge. It wasn’t because he cared. He was a control freak.
    Scot and Jason told him to hang back. They wanted to figure out the logistics of getting around to all of our homes and checking on families.
    Our plan was simple. Jessica and Baja would check cars, and Specs and I would cover them. Before we left, we went up onto the roof to get a better view of what vehicles might still be operating. Specs suggested we take the cruiser that Jessica had crashed into the store. But that was the only thing standing between us and a herd of Z’s. I spotted a cruiser outside the police station, and a red van a few feet from it. Beyond that we would have had to run by foot down two blocks to three cars that were still in parking spots outside the stores.
    It was early still. A deep orange sun was coming up when we slipped out the back door of the store. We had made a point to use knives at least until we got to the cars. The last thing we needed was to be chased by some of the fresh Z’s. It was getting hot already. It had to have been seventy-five out there. I was sure it was going to rise higher. This was meant to be fall. What the hell was going on with the weather? Then again last year’s winter had been extremely mild.
    Before venturing out, I pulled out my handgun, popped out the magazine, and checked the load.
    “How many?” Specs asked.
    I was counting the number of Z’s that were roaming around outside. There had to have been close to twelve. They were milling around near a dumpster. It was unusual, to be honest. I figured a cat had dropped in there and they were eager to have it for breakfast.
    “Twelve.”
    “Good chance they will go for us. Run as fast as you can behind the stores. Don’t stop even if you see anyone who is living.”
    “What if we can help them?”
    “Too risky.”
    “You are starting to sound like Dax,” Specs said.
    I ignored him, motioned for the others to follow and we filed out. We kept low and close to the wall. The first building was about twenty feet away from the back door but it might as well have been four miles. We raced our way over while stabbing a few Z’s in the head. The feeling of a knife going into a skull was different for each one. Those who were badly decomposed were the worst. Your entire hand passed through. It was like putting your fist into a cold apple pie.
    The fresh Z’s were solid. It was actually tough to get the knife back out. I had to use my foot on one. I ended up crushing his head just trying to retrieve it.
    The sound of the undead, their groans, their feet and bodies hitting the pavement, was sickening. Our town seemed frozen in time. For now the power was still working, so streetlights automatically turned off as the morning sun was just beginning to peek