Free Life Among The Dead (Book 3): A Bittersweet Victory by Daniel Cotton

injured , Marko notes. All of them
share the same interest in him and his partners.
    “Why are we hiding?” Jessie asks.
    “Precaution.” Marko’s voice is a paranoid
whisper.
    Hands and faces slap against the windows, and
the people shove one another aside for a turn at the glass.
    “Turn the radio on, Biff.”
    The man in the middle jabs a fat finger at
the radio between his knees, instigating a blare of music.
    “Not the Skynard!” Marko yelps. “Turn the
news on!”
    The radio is switched out of CD mode and
automatically tunes itself to the clearest station. A droning voice
fills the cab, “…advised to remain indoors and avoid any contact
with the recently deceased and any who may have been bitten by the
walking dead. If confronted, and you are left with no alternative,
the zombies, as they are official being called, can be dispatched
by severe trauma to the brain using a firearm or a blunt
instrument. This is not a hoax. The dead are reanimating, and you
are still advised to remain indoors.”
    The recorded warning repeats over and over.
Marko listens to it several times as it confirms his suspicion. The
impossible is happening. He thinks of all the films he has seen in
the past and how he had often wondered what he’d do if this ever
occurred, and how awesome it would be.
    Marko fights against Biff’s girth to reach
behind the seat for a weapon. He forgoes the rifles resting on the
rack. They are just for show, should a game warden come nosing
around their site, since technically it is muzzleloader season. The
‘real’ guns are hidden. Now he wields a Russian style AK-47,
already loaded and ready to go. Using the controls on his door, he
lowers the passenger window.
    “Hey!” Jessie says, pushing away from the
breach as far as he can, which isn’t very far at all.
    “Shut up,” Marko says. His truck is so high
the dead have a hard time grabbing at them.
    Marko fires into the faces of the dead as he
allows his truck to crawl backwards. Every round thrills him by
creating a quick flash of red a split second before the heads of
the zombies snap back. Biff flinches with each shot and covers his
ears. Hot casings eject and Marko knows they must burn the large
man’s skin.
    “Hold my AK,” Marko orders, then raises the
passenger window and shifts into drive.
    The black truck pushes the dead to the
ground, and the men inside bounce as the tires run over bodies.
They make it through the crowd only to turn around and plow through
the zombies again. Marko is delighted over the maniacal
possibilities of this situation.
    Jessie and Biff cringe as bones crush under
the tires. Ignoring their squeamishness, Marko makes pass after
pass, wanting to eliminate the horde in order to commence with all
of the wonderful ideas he has. The zombies in the lot are reduced
to quivering mounds of flesh within sacks of cloth in no time.
Marko turns off his engine and addresses his shocked companions,
“Grab your guns, boys.”
    The cousins hesitate for a second, but do as
they are told once Marko steps out of the truck. He doesn’t wait,
but quickly grabs more ammo from a red tool box behind his seat and
heads for the lady in the window. He puts a round into her head
then smashes the rest of the glass away with the butt of his
gun.
    Jessie and Biff are about to follow suit,
taking aim on the stragglers that still head their way from deeper
parts of the town, but both are too afraid to pull the trigger,
which allows the dead to draw even closer.
    “Just do it!” Marko says.
    The corpses are now within yards his
partners, who tremble so much they can barely aim their shotguns.
The cousins fearfully back away, leaving Marko to take the zombies
out.
    “See?” he says. “They’re already dead, coming
to eat us.”
    “But…” Jessie stammers. He and Biff don’t
look convinced.
    “See the cop?” Marko points to the man in the
squad car that thrashes in his seat, wanting to get out. The AK-47
releases one round into his