Free The Undead World (Book 2): The Apocalypse Survivors by Peter Meredith Page A

cease fire. That’s if you plan on letting me go.”
    John scratched beneath his cap again and asked in a surprised voice, “Why on earth would you want to go in the city after what I just told you?”
    Ram flicked his eyes to Scott and said, “Revenge. Retribution.”
    “If you’re going into the city, you won’t live long enough for either,” Scott said. “They don’t take prisoners. If they get you alive, they feed you to the zombies. And then just as you turn they’ll set you free among your own people. I don’t know if you know what that’s like, seeing a friend in that state. It’s horrible what they do.”
    The idea made that queer feeling inside Ram ramp up in tempo. It was like the distant clouds—a storm was coming and there was nothing he could do about it. “I’ve seen my share of friends who have turned, and had I known all this crap was happening I don’t know if I would’ve come. You can only take revenge so far, however…” Here he paused and then opened his shirt to show the angry scratches that were at his throat. “I got careless this morning and now I don’t have much to lose.”
    The men backed away.
    “There’s one thing you have to lose,” Scott replied. “A good death. A proper death. It’s something you can’t take lightly these days.”
    Ram knew that was true, but he didn’t know how true until an hour later when he sat trussed to a tether ball pole in an elementary school playground as three angry men took turns punching him in the face.

Chapter 7
    Ram
    Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
    “Don’t do it, man,” Scott said. “Don’t go. It’ll only end badly for you.” He made to put out a hand to Ram, however the presence of the virus in Ram was like a force-field that kept the man at bay. He pulled his hand back, curling his fingers in as an extra precaution.
    “Listen to him,” John advised. He squinted at Ram. “How long do you have left? Two hours? Three?”
    Ram touched his face with gentle fingers as if to assure himself that he hadn’t changed already. “Four hours I think…I hope. Do I look that bad?” His insides had really begun to bother him and now he could feel a fine sweat at his brow.
    “You don’t look good,” Scott said. He then glanced down to the ground where the grass was still bent from the scuffle and added, “I’m, uh…I’m sorry for how we treated you. My brother disappeared a few days ago and I’m not dealing with it well.”
    “It’s alright,” Ram said , still with his fingers on his face. He had a deep sense of expectancy about him as if his doom was in the air he breathed. “It’s understandable, I guess. But I have to go. I can’t just sit around waiting to die.” He had seen too many of his fellow soldiers wallowing in their own sweat, pissing themselves in the extremes of the fever. That couldn’t be him, and yet his Beretta at his hip never seemed further away.
    “It’s too bad this had to happen to you right now,” one of the others mentioned. “That’s some real bad timing.”
    This brought a rueful chuckle out of Ram. “When’s it ever good timing to get scratched by one of them?”
    “You don’t know?” the old man asked uneasily. “You haven’t heard?”
    “Heard what?” Ram asked with a sinking feeling.
    John glanced at the others as if asking for help, but even more they seemed extra interested in the everyday minutia than in catching his eye. “There’s a vaccine,” John said finally. “Some guy in New York City figured out how to make one and he’s selling them for a thousand a vial.”
    Stunned at his ill-luck, Ram sagged at the news and could only ask, “A thousand? A thousand dollars? That’s weird, you can get money anywhere.”
    “No. A thousand rounds of ammo or a hundred gallons of gas, or their equivalent. The re was some kid who came through the other day with this big ass missile launcher. He’s gonna try to get ten vials”
    “And the vaccine works,” Ram said. It