Free Machines of the Dead 2 by David Bernstein Page B

grateful.
    The others teamed up with Cannibal, immediately accepting his leadership. The men, killers themselves, feared the large man, even when they held guns. Kyle was in awe of his new friend and protector and couldn’t have asked for anything more.
    The group of fifteen men made their way up and into the mountain area. They passed many houses, mostly secluded, but finally settled into a mansion. It overlooked part of the Hudson River, had fireplaces, and plenty of room. The basement was huge and Cannibal immediately had the men go to work on making a cage.
    From that point on, he ordered his flock to bring back people, people he could eat. They were not to harm anyone, and were told to bring as many females as possible—females being Cannibal’s preferred meal of choice. The heftier the woman, the better.
    In secrecy, the men had their fun, raping and killing, but always made sure to bring back plenty of “untouched cattle.”
    Over time, guns were rounded up from nearby homes. A State Troopers’ barracks was broken into and assortments of weapons were acquired, including assault rifles and tear gas.
    Another nearby mansion served as home to a group of survivalists. Mostly people from the community. Cannibal armed his men and sent them out to storm the place and take more prisoners, more food. But the group proved tough, not only fending off his people, but killing some in the process. He attacked a number of times, each time succeeding at only failure.
    “Kyle,” the big man said, having summoned the worm to his room, “I need you do something. Something very important.”
    “Anything,” Kyle said, and meaning it, as long as it wasn’t allowing himself to be eaten.
    “I need you to go to them. Become one of them.”
    “But I—”
    “You will do this,” Cannibal said, softly. The large man placed a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “I told you that you would be an important part of my family. You would be needed. Do you remember this when I found you in your cell?”
    Kyle nodded.
    Cannibal smiled and Kyle saw pieces of flesh protruding from the man’s teeth. “They will take you in. You will gain their trust. And while you’re doing this, you will report back to me using one of our walkie-talkies.”
    Kyle didn’t like this, but defying his master was not an option.
    “We’ll get your back-story straight,” Cannibal said. “You came wandering in from another town. You said you were originally from Florida, so stick with that. You’re a salesman. Remember to keep things simple.”
    Kyle set out two nights later, dropping the lockbox containing the walkie-talkie in the nearby woods. He dirtied himself up, ripped his clothes, then wandered down the Cliff House’ driveway where he was met by armed men.
    He was searched, questioned and watched closely for the first week. But he knew they would come around to trust him, or forget about him. He was an unassuming presence, a man who blended in well, disappearing into the crowd. He was small and always came off as non-threatening. He was the poster boy for judge-a-book-by-its-cover. And Cannibal must have known this, hence the reason for sending him. He couldn’t let the big guy down, not after all the man had done for him.
    Kyle eventually found his way alone to the lockbox, dug a hole and buried it, marking the surrounding trees so that he would be able to identify the area. He reported in a few times, telling Cannibal that all was well and not much was going on. Then, the visitors arrived with their high-powered machine guns. They weren’t going to spend but a night at Cliff House. He had to alert Cannibal. He also learned of something most distressing. Not bad news for himself or the rest of humanity, but to Cannibal it would be devastating.
    The undead were the result of an experiment. There was nothing supernatural about them, as Cannibal assumed. They were controlled by nanobots. A bite was not a death sentence as he had thought. Electricity of