Free Southern Zombies Three Book Box Set: A Story of Survival, Southern Hospitality, and Southern Blood by Ann Riley

want your asses now.” Asshat said.
    “Are you kidding me? These fuckers tried to steal from us and they have the attitude?” I say.
    “Here is what we will do. Get out of the truck. Let them have all this shit. There are too many of them to shoot our way through. We don’t have any other choice unless we want to get shot up.” Marc says.
    “Fine.” We reply to Marc.
    “We’re getting out.” Marc yells.
    So we get out. We are asked to put our hands on the truck and stand there. Asshat sends six of his friends over to us to check for weapons while three others keep a bead on us. They remove Marc’s weapons first, then Trey. Bobby is next then me. Diane glares at the dumbass about to search her and he tells her, “Mam, please remove your weapons.”
    Well, it seems her glares are scary enough to warrant a grown man to question himself.
    Now I know this is heading to hell. They have no plans of letting us go. So at this point, does it matter what I say or do? Nah, I don't think so.
    “What now?” I ask Ass hat.
    “Well, we will be moving y'all to the holding area of the camp. Then we will make y'all work to earn your keep. We have various jobs for our guests.” Ass hat says.
    “Guests? You don't really think you will be able to keep us here do you? I mean, do you think we are as stupid as you and your band of idiots? Do you think no one will come looking for us?” I ask.
    I can see ass hat turning red now, which tells me I am pissing him off. So I continue.
    “If you had any idea of all the shit you are getting yourself into, you would have thought twice about stopping us. When it's all done, I am going to slice across your throat until I see your spine. And I'm going to watch you lay there a gasp for your last breath. Then when you take your last breath, I'm going to cut your black heart out, if you have one, that is, and feed it to the zombies. Remember, you don't scare me. And if I'm going to die, I will die causing as much hell as I possibly can.” I tell ass hat.
    “Are you done bitch?” Ass hat asks.
    “You haven't seen a bitch yet you fucking dumbass. Kiss my ass.” I tell him.
    Then I give him the universal sign used by people all over the world. I flip him the middle finger. And I see nothing but darkness after that.
    I wake up and try to get my bearings and figure out where I am. Everything is blurry and I try to focus my eyes so I can look around. My head feels like it is splitting open. So I lay there for a minute and try to remember what happened. I go back in my mind. Leaving our home, coming to Alabama, Todd and his family, leaving and, oh yeah. A fucking road block. Where are the others I think to myself? I roll over on my side and open my eyes to look around. Concrete under me. I push up on my elbow and my head spins like I am going to pass out again. I finally get raised up and am sitting straight and I start looking around. There is one window directly in front of where I am sitting and one on each side. It looks like a jail cell. Really? They have a jail here?
    I slowly stand up and walk over to the window that has a view of the outside area. I see…. Zombies. Just a few ambling around. I pull my face from the window before they see me and come to investigate. Walking over to the window on the left, there is no glass in it, only bars. So I can see into the next cell. And I see Bobby laid out on the floor.
    “Bobby.” I whisper. No answer.
    “Bobby, wake up.” I say.
    This is a man that claims he can hear everything while he sleeps. Well, that has been proven a lie, right here, today. Yeah, I know he was knocked out, but really? Is that an excuse?
    “Bobby, wake your ass up or I give away all your clothes and shoes.” I tell him.
    Bobby is a clothes and shoes fanatic and when I get rid of clothes he can’t wear, or maybe are worn out, I have to sneak around like I am a drug smuggler trying to get into interstate trafficking.
    “You already do that when I’m not home, so