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

throat and began inching his head closer to me. Again I forced Javier’s head up, but he was a tad overweight, and my adrenaline dump was fading. His teeth edged closer to my neck. In desperation, I pressed my Glock into his ribcage and put two rounds into his side. He kept coming.
    What the fuck! My ears were screaming from the loud reports. No effect? I should have stayed in bed this morning .
    His snarling, drooling mouth was now mere inches from my jugular, I promptly went berserk. It was a bad habit I had during brawls that I blamed on my Norwegian Viking ancestors. A wall of red filled my vision, and all weariness fled as strength flooded my body. Roaring like a lion, I picked my opponent up off me and slammed him head first into the stairwell banister, which broke under his weight. Stalking up to Javier, who was trying to get up again, I grabbed the banister post and snapped it free. Using it like a war club, I proceeded to beat Javier’s skull to a bloody pulp. It seemed like hours when I finally regained my senses and noticed that he was no longer moving. Judging from the amount of blood and brain matter splattered everywhere, he damn well better not be.
    Dropping the blood-splattered chunk of wood to the floor, I shook with fatigue and sank down into a nearby chair as the last traces of adrenaline left my system. After a few minutes passed, I looked over at the mangled person I was supposed to arrest.
    “ Shit,” I sighed. “I better call my supervisor because I think I just killed you.”
    Getting up, I grabbed Javier’s wrist and checked for a pulse. Yep, he was dead.
    I retrieved my handgun from the floor and holstered it. They took our guns after a shooting, and I probably wouldn’t see it for a while. I then made my way back downstairs and out to my squad car to use my cell phone. As I stood there listening to recordings of “all circuits are currently busy”, I was thinking of the “Officer of the Year” award that I had in my grasp and had probably just forfeited due to the mess I made of Javier’s skull. I was sure photos would be all over the paper amid cries of police brutality.
    Hanging up the phone in frustration, I opened my trunk to retrieve my crime scene tape, hoping to rope off the area for the evidence technicians and the ensuing crowd that was sure to show up.
    “ Man, my trunk is a mess,” I muttered as I shoved my gear around looking for the tape.
    In the back of my mind, it registered that I no longer heard squad sirens, and without radio communications I had no idea what was or was not happening out there. I wanted to try the cell phone again, and when I turned to walk back to the driver’s side door of my squad, I jumped back when a car skidded to a stop next to me. I watched an attractive Hispanic woman get out of the gray Toyota Camry and start to run to the red brick grade school that was across the street.
    The mostly Hispanic Columbus Elementary School had an after school program for the children of single or working parents, and I remembered that school just started up again last week. She stopped abruptly, screamed, and ran right back to me. A stumbling adult male wearing a blood-stained button up shirt and tie appeared from around the corner right behind her. The man had nasty wounds on both arms, and as he got closer, I could see he wasn’t approaching me for help. He had that same hungry, malicious look in his eyes that I was just forced to deal with a few moments ago. The woman took cover behind me, cowering in fear. I drew my pistol and told the man to stop and get on the ground. There was no response from him; in fact, he didn’t make any sound other than that damned ominous moaning sound that Javier had made.
    “ Ma’am, stay back,” I said, turning back towards the woman.
    When he started shambling towards me faster, ignoring my commands to stop and get on the ground, I shot him twice at center mass. Two bright red rings appeared on his chest, and I assumed