Free The Zombie Wars: The Enemy Within (White Flag Of The Dead Book 8) by Joseph Talluto

Let’s finish this idiot,” I said.
    “Are we sure we want to kill him?  He might be useful in flushing out his partners, if he has any,” Charlie said, stepping out of the van and moving over to the berm.
    “He calls himself Zim,” I said.
    “Zim?” Asked Duncan.
    “It’s the letters z and m,” I said. “Stands for Zombie Master.”
    Tommy and Duncan spoke at the same time.
    “Kill him.”
    I joined Charlie at the berm, and together we swung our rifles back and forth, looking for the guy who shot at us. If I had bothered to reason it out, I guess we could have been in the wrong since we did shoot first. He did threaten everyone within a twenty mile radius with death and zombification, so I felt a lot less bad than perhaps I might have.
    “Nothing on this side; do you think he booked it from the truck?” Charlie asked.
    “No place really to go unless he had a side route he followed,” I said, scanning my side.  I wasn’t looking for anything that was standing still; I figured this guy had to be moving and moving fast. He was far away from his source of power, and if we could keep it that way, we’d be in good shape. 
    “Tommy!” I called out.
    “What?”
    “Take the van and Duncan and get to the city.  Find out what’s up and what we can do about it.  See if this guy is alone or not,” I said.
    “If he isn’t?” Tommy asked.
    “Do what you need to do,” I said. “This bunch seems to have held this area hostage, so I’m not inclined to be charitable. “
    “Hey Duncan!” Charlie called.
    “Yes?”
    “Try not to let the zombies out if you can help it.”
    “Only for you.”
    Charlie turned back to me.
    “You figure if he sees the van drive off towards his city he’ll break cover and chase it?” he asked, scanning the area with his scope again.
    “That was the plan,” I said, trying to see through trees and brush anything that might hide a vehicle.
    “Not bad.  Let’s see if he takes the bait.  The last shots came from over there, and we haven’t heard any since, so he must have moved around us, or he’s sitting tight, hoping we go away,” Charlie said.
    I scanned the trees by the lake and the creek and didn’t see anything.  I looked behind me and watched our van get smaller and smaller.  I was starting to think I had made a mistake when Charlie tapped me on the arm. 
    “Here he comes.”
    A dark green pickup truck slowly emerged from the small copse of trees in front of us.  It was moving slow, like it had a problem with its engine.  As it got closer, I could see the driver, a young man of about twenty or so.  He was keeping his speed about forty miles an hour, and I could see in my scope that he was extremely impatient. He kept shaking the wheel and slamming his hands on the console.
    Charlie chuckled.
    “Guess I hit him after all,” he said.
    “How do you know?” I asked. 
    “He’d be driving faster if he could,” Charlie explained. “You can drive your car up to forty miles an hour for about fifteen minutes when you don’t have any anti-freeze. After that you’d better find a place for lunch because you’re not going anywhere.”
    “When do you want to take him?” I asked, watching the truck get closer.
    “I’d say we let him pass, then take the tires out. Should be an easy shot from behind,” Charlie said.
    We ducked down and waited, keeping ourselves out of sight.  At that speed, he’d see us for sure, if he hadn’t already.   I asked Charlie what he planned to do if the truck stopped in front of us and Zim started shooting.  We were pretty well exposed out here on the road. 
    Charlie shrugged. “I guess if he stops, we open up on him first and get to cover behind these hills.”
    I was good with that.
    The truck wheezed its way towards us, and we were forced to wait a lot longer than I thought we needed to.  But then I remembered that scopes on rifles made things seem closer than they really were, and the truck was a lot further away