Free Five Days Dead by James Davis Page A

a Wrynd. She wore no shoes and the nails of her hands and feet were claws. Harley couldn’t tell if they were real or synthetic, not that it would matter. He didn’t need to hear a gasp from Quinlan to know that this was Vania Bowden, wife of Quinlan, mother to Noah and Raizor and the latest in a long list of Wrynd King Orrin’s queens.
    Orrin skidded to a stop 25 feet from Harley, Victor and Quinlan. Vania and the eight other zombies stopped beside him, fanning out until they encircled the truck. There were five men and three women in the party and they were all consumed by ink.
    “Harley Nearwater!” Orrin roared and it was difficult to tell if it was a roar of rage or delight. Perhaps it was both.
    “King Orrin.” Harley nodded his way, his hand never straying far from his still holstered sidearm. Victor held his blaster, pointing it directly at Orrin's head and his scye made frantic circles in the air around him. He was scared to death Harley realized, but even more terrified to show it.
    “I didn’t order takeout.” Orrin said and the other Wrynd laughed hysterically, except for the young zombie woman by his side. She looked confused and even more agitated than the others. They had pumped so much ink into her that she was far beyond any hope of recovery. Harley made a sidelong glance at Quinlan. The young man hadn’t realized it yet. His breathing was jagged and Harley wondered exactly how long he would be able to hold things together.
    “No? Well, perhaps we’ll just be on our way then.”
    “You’re a funny little Indian Harley. We’re always up for takeout.”
    “Vania!” Quinlan’s voice was jagged and started out as a whisper and ended in a scream. The zombie woman before him looked his way as he called out her name but gave no hint of recognition. 
    Victor took a step forward and the zombies all balanced on the balls of their feet, ready to leap at the first sign from their king. The deputy marshal had no idea how tenuous their situation was. “That woman is this man’s wife. You kidnapped and drugged her and we are here to take her home.”
    Orrin looked at Victor mutely for a moment and then roared more laughter, his pointed teeth clattering against each other and biting into the flesh of his lips. They bled down his chin. His tongue whipped out of his mouth to lap at the blood. “Queen Vania?  Kidnapped?  No, I think not. She is my bride, and I am her loving groom. If she knew anything of this pathetic little man, she has gladly forgotten it now.”
    Victor straightened his long right arm, holding the pulse pistol directly at the Wrynd king’s tattooed face. “That may be so, but he has the law on his side and I am the law, so she is coming with us, one way, or another.”
    “The law?” Orrin seemed amused, but Harley detected the quickness in his breath, the impatient tapping of his toes. Things were about to get ugly.
    “Deputy Marshal Shelley of the Federation.”
    “Victor? Victor! I hardly recognized you. You’ve had some modifications done I see. You look something like a monkey.” 
    “Orangutan.” Harley offered.
    “Orangutan! Yes. A big orangutan.” Orrin gripped Vania by the arm and pulled her to him and she wrapped her other arm around his midsection and licked the blood from his chin. Harley heard Quinlan moan and out of the corner of his eye could see the children with their faces pressed against the window of the truck. “Vania, this man is a Deputy Marshal of the mighty Founder Federation. Are you impressed?”
    “Hungry.” She said, and her voice was harsh and jagged and somehow seductive.
    “Deputy Marshals are delicious!” Another zombie chattered enthusiastically.
    “I want me one of them wings!” Another screamed, and they all laughed and Harley knew death was coming.
    “Well, you heard them deputy. I think they would like to have you for dinner and as their humble king, how could I possibly say no?”
    The Wrynd who had screamed for a wing leapt