Free The Hungry by Steve Hockensmith, Joe McKinney, Harry Shannon, Steven Booth Page A

bikers, originally so emboldened by the absence of order, finally slowed up in the face of the roadblock. That was just the opportunity that Miller and Terrill Lee needed. They made it into the barricade, slipped between the two cruisers, and leaned over the hood of a patrol car. They held hands and fought to catch their breath. Hot damn, Miller thought, we did it.
    After a moment, Miller approached the nearest Patrolman. Her badge was prominently displayed on her white wedding dress, which was a good thing, but also made her feel like a complete idiot. "Officer, I'm Sherriff Penny Miller of Flat Rock County."
    The Patrolman looked at her blankly. Miller stared back. There was something wrong with his face. She flinched. She saw blood seeping from open wounds. The cop moaned wordlessly, twitched and reached out for her. His eyes were white and vacant and his mouth was hungry.
    Miller was too surprised by the uniformed zombie to react in time. The undead Patrolman latched onto her arm. He brought his teeth down to bite her. Miller slugged him in the jaw as she struggled to pull free. Two shots rang out from behind her, and two neat little holes appeared in his skull. The zombie dropped limply, thus releasing Miller.
    Three more zombies in uniform appeared from behind the next cruiser. Miller didn't need any more reminders. She leveled the shotgun and shot the closest one in the throat. His head tumbled down, followed by his body. Two more shots, and the other zombies' brains were vaporized. Head shots work. Head shots work.
    "Uh…" began Terrill Lee.
    Miller looked up. The entire remaining biker gang, perhaps forty of them, just sat on their motorcycles, as if they had been watching a stage show. Each of them now pointed their weapons directly at Miller and Terrill Lee.
    "Give me six good reasons I shouldn't have my crew blow your ass to tomato soup," demanded a bald, over-muscled, heavily tattooed biker. He had pierced eyebrows and a nose ring.
    "Hey, Rag," said one of the others. "I say we waste Dale Earnhart here and get us some of that newlywed pussy."
    "We might just go that way," said Rag. "You two drop them pieces, and maybe we'll let you live."
    "I'm an officer of the law," said Miller. "I won't relinquish my weapon."
    "Then you're ratfucked," replied Rag. He nodded at the others.
    The gang took aim again. Only the sound of another motorcycle approaching stayed their hands. They looked at one another. Who had been left behind?
    "Well, look who decided to join the party," said Rag.
    The newcomer pulled up alongside Rag. The man switched off his engine. He brushed his long, stringy hair from his face, and rubbed at a bandage on his head.
    "Hey, Scratch," said Rag.
    Miller couldn't believe her eyes. "Terrill Lee, I know that dude. I thought he was zombie food. He was my prisoner back in town. We fought off the first wave together. He should be dead."
    Scratch stretched and adjusted his balls. "What's the story, Ragnarok?"
    "Looks like we got us some fresh meat. This bride here was just explaining to us why we should fucking blow her away because she's actually the local law."
    Scratch looked at Terrill Lee blankly, but then his eyes grew wider as he recognized Miller in her wedding dress.
    Scratch began to laugh. It was not a comforting sound.

FIVE
     
     
    "Nice dress, Sheriff," Scratch said. He chuckled. "Damn, you picked a hell of a day for a honeymoon."
    "Tell me about it." Miller scratched at her armpit, feigning nonchalance.
    "Is this the meat puppet y'all got hitched to?" he asked, ignoring Terrill Lee.
    "Him?" Miller rolled her eyes. She lowered her weapon slightly. The bikers followed suit. Miller looked Terrill Lee up and down. "Hell, I can assure you he ain't even the best man."
    The bikers laughed heartily.
    "Thanks a lot, Penny," said Terrill Lee softly. His face reddened.
    Scratch continued to smile. "Now, maybe it's just me, but sure looks like you got yourself into a bit of a pickle."
    Miller raised the