Free Zombie Killers: AMBUSH: Irregular Scout Team One Book Six (Zombie Killer Blues 6) by John F Holmes Page B

you are convicted of murder of your charges at Ossining Prison. As a duly appointed Commissioned Officer of the United States Army, as witnessed by Captain Samuel Hideyoshi, US Army, I sentence you to death. Sentence to be carried out by Colonel Jackson, US Air Force.”
    I turned to Brit and asked her, “Did you get all that?” She nodded, holding up her iPhone. I turned back to Jackson, but before I could say anything, Burns threw himself at my feet, crying hysterically. The bully really was a coward, after all.
    “Please, for the love of God, don’t let the nigger hang me! You’re a white man, you gotta understand!”  Brit kicked him, hard, in the face. He sprawled out on the ground and was surrounded by an angry mob. The lifted him up on their shoulders and started to carry him towards the nearest telephone pole.
    “AGOSTINE! WAIT! I can tell you some vital info! About the President! There’s going to be a …” A rope being placed around his neck choked him off, and it was quickly looped around the cross beam. Several men hauled on it, and his feet rose off the ground, even as he clawed at the noose. I turned away, rather than watch him dance, and almost collapsed. Brit and Lisa lifted me up by the shoulders and half dragged, half carried me to a nearby porch.
    “Finally, a threesome,” I managed to quip.
    “Oh, you fucking wish, Nick,” said Lisa, and I laughed. In front of the porch stood several of the former correction guards, with weapons trained on them by scouts. They looked like a battered, dispirited bunch. Red sat there also, hungrily eating an MRE, saying nothing. I was glad to see him.
    “What should we do about you?” I asked, rhetorically. I didn’t care.
    “Just let us go, Colonel. We were just trying to survive, and Burns killed more than one person who disagreed with him. We just wanted our families to have a chance. We gave up.” The man who spoke didn’t seem anyone different than anyone else, just an average white guy with the strain of the Apocalypse marked on his face.
    “It’s true, they DID surrender,” said one of the guys from Scout Team Three.
    “Fuck it,” I said, too tired to think. “If you can make a life here, after what happened, you’re welcome to it.”
    I lay back and let Brit clean my cuts and bruises. She said nothing for a minute, but then asked me the question I had been thinking of myself. “How did you get caught with your pants down like that, Nick? Lisa told me about the ambush, but you walked into it. Are you losing your touch?”
    “I’ve been thinking about that, and I think we were set up. We got so used to fighting zombies and reavers, we forgot about radios. I got up and hobbled over towards’ what had been Burns’ house. His corpse was still slightly twitching, tongue protruding out and eyes popping. I ignored it and continued on, going into the house, followed by a curious Brit and a quickly recovering Red.
    I searched the house, knowing it had to be there, and finally found it in an upstairs room. On a desk made from a door laid over tow filing cabinets sat a short wave radio, quietly ticking over. Sprawled on the floor was one of the guards, crumpled in that utter stillness of death.
    Grabbing the microphone, I tried to make an approximation of Burns’ gravelly voice. “Whoever is listening, I want you to get Margaret on the horn.” After a second someone replied back, but I cut them off. “Get me Margaret, NOW!” I yelled into the microphone.
    I waited and she came on after a full minute. “Burns, what the hell is so goddamned important that you get my ass out of bed this early in the morning? Are you having problems with your niggers? Did you kill them soldier boys yet? Need me to come down there and teach you how it’s done?”
    “Murdoch,” I said, in my normal voice. There was silence on the other end.
    “Murdoch,” I said again. “I’m coming to get YOU.” I reached over and shut off the radio. Brit burst out