Free Slow Burn: A Zombie Novel by Mike Fosen, Hollis Weller Page A

up,” I told a small cat that scurried past me down the steps.
    Seeing the light switch, I turned it on and began making my way up the creaking wooden stairway. Nearing the top of the stairs, I heard a loud thumping sound coming from a room at the back of the hallway that had furniture piled in front of it.
    “ Javier, this is the Joliet Police. I need you to step away from the door. I am coming inside. I need to talk to you,” I said in a loud, commanding voice.
    Inside the room the thumping sound stopped and now was replaced by a deep growl.
    Nice, now this bastard thinks he has beer muscles or something . I frowned. Well I’m not some skinny teenager he can smack around.
    I started to grab furniture, tossing aside the pieces, and soon reached the door.
    “ Okay fucker,” I growled when something hit heavily on the other side of the door. “If you want to play, let’s do this!”
    I ripped open the door and nearly got my face bitten off when Javier lashed out at me with his gnashing teeth. I could see the dried blood crusted around his mouth as his teeth clacked shut inches from my face. The only thing that stopped that from happening was my left forearm that came up and caught Javier under his jaws in the throat. I blasted him between the eyes with my right fist, knocking him back into the room. Adrenaline dumped into my bloodstream as I now realized that when Javier was knocked back, he had a hold of my radio mic cord. Now I stared at him holding one piece while the rest sat useless on my gun belt.
    “ Fuck me!”
    Javier dropped the cord and came at me again but seemed a tad slower this time. Maybe it was from booze or drugs, or maybe it was the punch to the head.
    Suspecting that he needed another, I crushed him with a combo right in the mouth.
    As I mentally patted myself on the back, my new sparring partner Javier caught me off guard by not being knocked out cold and lunged at me, almost getting me into a bear hug.
    Apparently Javier could take a punch!
    Thinking fast, I redirected his momentum and pushed his head clear through the nearby plaster wall.
    Now that had to hurt!
    I figured that I now would be stuck babysitting this drunk fucker all night at the hospital. That thought vanished when Javier began pulling his head from the hole in the wall.
    “ What the fuck?” Now I was getting pissed. How was he still moving?
    I could see bits of plaster and slivers of wood packed into several cuts on his face as he pulled himself free and looked hungrily back at me. I tried to talk to Javier, but he wasn’t hearing me. He must have been on PCP or some other drug which was helping deaden the pain. I grabbed Javier, gave him a leg sweep and knocked him to the floor. I tried to pin him to the floor and proceeded to handcuff his left wrist. Javier’s right arm was trapped under his body, and every time I reached for it, he tried to bite me. That, of course, just earned him several punches to various parts of the body and head. They sadly did not gain me one bit of compliance on Javier’s part.
    He was going to be one sore motherfucker when his high wore off. I smashed him yet again with a forearm to the back of his head.
    I noticed that Javier was burning up from an apparent fever and wondered if it was from the drugs or if he was really sick. Then he began to convulse so violently that I got off of him completely. Fear of lawsuits nowadays made cops very nervous when it came to claims of excessive force. There wasn’t a single lawyer who wouldn’t make the bullshit case that I was using excessive force in this instance. So I backed up into the hallway near the top of the stairs, and my spider senses kicked in, telling me to draw my service pistol. Seconds later from the dark room, Javier rushed me once again. I tripped over some of the furniture that was outside the door and fell backwards. Javier landed on top of me and immediately tried to bite me in the face and neck. His clawing hands grabbed me by the