Free A Pound of Flesh: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse by Shawn Chesser

pile up
fifteen feet or so then the Little Birds and Chinooks come in and
airlift the whole operation to another high rise a few blocks away.
While the action is drawing the dead to the new spot, cleanup
crews—mostly civilians like you—come in and load the dead sleds.”
Farnsworth suddenly went silent and gazed towards Pikes Peak. “I
wouldn’t wish that job on anyone... we lose one or two a day. All
those dead aren’t really dead . The fuckers have started
playing possum.”
    “No way!” Elvis said incredulously.
    Farnsworth said nothing.
    Elvis continued shaking his head, eyes
closed, thinking about the ramifications. “So why bury them here
and not closer to the city?”
    “Eventually everyone is going to move back
downtown and the surrounding suburbs. This is a better place than
most I guess.”
    The Motorola squawked, breaking the silence.
Farnsworth conferred with the voice on the other end then said to
Elvis, “The sled is inbound— be careful .”
    No shit , Elvis thought as a chill
traced his spine. “I’m getting back inside right now.” He banged on
the armor to get Farnsworth to look up. Then he asked in a low
voice, arched eyebrows conveying his concern. “ Playing
possum ?”
    The thunderlike noise of the dump truck
rolled over the horizon.
    “ Be careful ,” stressed Farnsworth once
more.
    With a latex-covered thumbs up Elvis
answered, “Roger that,” and after double checking the door lock he
fired up the dozer. The comforting throaty rumble masked the sound
of the approaching yellow meat wagon. Time to make the
doughnuts , Elvis thought to himself.
     

Chapter 8
    Outbreak - Day 10
    Schriever AFB
    Colorado Springs, Colorado
     
    Brook stood before Colonel Cornelius Shrill’s
private office, wrestling with her emotions while at the same time
trying to summon enough courage to rap on the door.
    As if somehow sensing her presence the
Colonel hauled the door inward and boomed a warm welcome. “Well,
well missus Grayson. Please come inside. To what do I owe this
pleasure?” he asked, ushering her in with a sweeping motion of his
winglike arm.
    Brook swept her gaze around the base
commander’s office as she stepped inside. Plaques and framed
decorations earned during the man’s long lived Air Force career
covered the office’s four walls.
    Before the Colonel could offer her a chair
Brook blurted, “I want to cut to the chase, Sir.”
    “What do you need?” he asked in his low
baritone voice. “Anything you need... considering all that your
husband has done—”
    “This has nothing to do with Cade. This is
all about me,” Brook said, letting the statement hang for a tick.
“I need to do something useful—to feel like a part of this
struggle. Cade’s gone—or he will be soon. I want a mission .”
    “What about Raven?”
    “I’m getting her ready,” said Brook, a look
of intensity burning in her eyes. “For the day that will come when
she is alone... when she will be forced to fend for herself.
You know as well as I do... nothing is guaranteed these
days.”
    “I think I worded that wrong,” said Shrill as
he paced to the wall and gazed at a photo positioned prominently on
the wall at his eye level. In the picture the Colonel, in full
dress uniform, ribbons, medals and all, had his arm around the
shoulder of a much younger African American man.
    Brook stole a closer look. Shrill and the
other man, who was wearing a flight suit and holding a helmet in
the crook of his arm, were standing in front of a U.S. Navy fighter
jet. Broad smiles creased both of the men’s faces. Brook guessed
the photo commemorated a very special moment in both Shrill’s and
the pilot’s life. “Is that your son?”
    “Affirmative.”
    “When was that taken?”
    “Seconds after I had informed him he was
going to Miramar on his own merit.”
    “Miramar...” Brook had heard of the Naval Air
Station which was in San Diego. “Top Gun school—very impressive .”
    Silence.
    “You would have