Free The Death Doll by Brian P. White Page A

here.  I get no more or less respect than anyone else around here, except for my position on the Panel.  So, if you’re looking for sympathy based on your color, you came to the wrong place.”  Then he left.  The only other brother in double-digit ages around here, and he was institutionalized.  Whipped by a false sense of pride.  Or that Death Doll.  Whatever.
    “Touchy motherfucker,” Isaac said under his breath.  “You should build a garbage chute if you’re so mighty around here.”
    “We tried,” Chuck said without looking.  “The bags always broke.  Got too hard to clean.”
    Isaac scoffed and sat with the stocky Hispanic playing cards by himself. “How long you work down here, man?”
    “I helped build it,” Chuck said with a West Coast accent while placing a black nine on a red ten.  Then he snickered.  “They needed strong backs and even stronger stomachs.  You know?”
    Isaac nodded.  “What’d you do before?”
    Chuck dropped a red seven on a black six and grinned up at Isaac.  “I guess you wouldn’t recognize me, would you?  I was a professional wrestler.”
    Isaac laughed out loud, which Chuck didn’t seem to appreciate.  “Ain’t you kind of short to be a wrestler?”
    Chuck grinned sideways.  “That was part of the gimmick.  El Corazon Grande proved size didn’t matter; only heart.”
    “That was you?” Isaac asked with surprise. 
    The little guy nodded proudly. 
    “Man, you were going to marry that model Shawna Glass.  Is she here with you?”
    Chuck’s smile vanished.  “I lost her when my last gig in Minneapolis got overrun.  The boss flew his family and the bigger names out in helicopters, so all I could do was hop a bus with her eight-year-old daughter, Leticia.  When the driver got drunk near Worthington, he rolled us off the road.  Half died from the crash; the other half got eaten by this giant mob that swarmed us while we were unconscious.  When Leticia and I came to, we hid out in the lavatory until we heard some gunshots.  When we came out, Didi and Cody were standing over like fifty bodies.  Bob, Craig, Hashim, and Gilda were there, too.”
    “Not Jerri?”
    Chuck looked like he wanted to laugh.  “No, she joined the Panel after we found this place.  She, Ron, and Rusty were part of some group in Rock Rapids that tried to raid us.  Didi and Cody outsmarted them, took out their leader, and made the rest surrender.”
    “Where’d she learn all that shit, man?”
    “Cody was in the Army, so everyone says she learned from him, but I don’t remember my cousin doing sword fighting in Basic Training.  They do practice a lot together.  Shit, they barely do anything around here without each other.”
    “Are they a thing?”
    Chuck shrugged.  “I ain’t never seen them get cozy or nothing, but I see love in their eyes.”
    “That’s it?  They not,” Isaac finished with a fist-ramming motion. 
    Chuck leaned closer.  “I had this uncle who used to cheat on my aunt.  Whenever he was out with her and saw one of his women, he’d get this look in his eyes like he wanted to do something but was afraid to.  Didi and Cody look at each other that way.  They’re holding back something.”
    If that was the case, Isaac failed to see any good in talking to Cody, who would soon be back with that Ford truck.  Maybe waiting had a benefit after all.

CHAPTER 9
 
    CHARACTER
     
    The scraggly-haired corpse lunged for Rachelle, eyeing her like she used to eye her mother’s enchiladas.  She moved around it and aimed again, but she couldn’t will herself into action.  The revolver trembled in her hands.  The stench practically choked her, but she knew that wasn’t why she couldn’t shoot. The thing looked like a petite even before something ate a huge chunk out of its side.  Its hands had been shredded to bone and entrails, and what was left of its face still had over-applied make-up.  It couldn’t have been much older than she was, and