Free Zomb-Pocalypse 2 by Megan Berry Page A

a terrible way to go.
    Silas doesn’t even bother to look down as he steps over his kill and repeats the process, this time opening the back door. The female zombie falls out of the truck just as gracefully as Jamie did, but she doesn’t get back up. She is in much worse shape than Jamie. I feel sick as I watch her use her only remaining arm to pull herself towards us, her teeth bared and snapping.
    Silas takes pity on her, or maybe he just doesn’t want to wait around all day until she finally gets close enough. He walks up and sticks his knife through the base of her skull. She stills instantly, and it’s a mercy. She is covered in ragged bites, and her left arm is completely missing—she wasn’t just bitten, she was torn apart.
    My stomach heaves as Silas reaches into the backseat, pulls out a half-eaten arm, and tosses it down beside its previous owner, the flesh smacking noisily on the pavement.
    I stare into the backseat and wrinkle my nose up at all the blood and chunks of gore that litter every surface. “Silas…” I start to say, but he’s already shaking his head.
    “Forget it, Blondie, we’re taking it.” Silas feels the need to tell me and I let out an annoyed huff as I walk around to the passenger side. It’s not much better in the front. Red blood splatter mixes with dark zombie juices, making me cringe as I gingerly lower myself down on the seat. It’s one thing to be gore covered in the middle of a fight for your life, but for me to purposely climb inside this truck uses up a whole new level of self-control that I never even knew I had.
    Silas gets in, not even glancing at the gore, and starts checking all the gauges to make sure everything is working right. It’s a good idea; it would suck to be in the middle of a bunch of zombies and have the truck crap out. The gas tank is full, so Silas puts our petri dish on wheels into drive and we slowly circle back towards the house that had all the zombies so interested.
    “What’s the plan?” I ask, and Silas looks away from the road long enough to give me an assessing look.
    “You’re not gonna like it,” he says, making my stomach clench, but I shake my head.
    “If it saves Ryan, I don’t care if you want me to ride naked on a horse into the middle of those zombies,” I say with a grin, causing Silas to look at me sharply.
    “Is that an option?” he asks, causing me to reach over and playfully punch him in the arm.
    “Okay, be serious,” I tell him, and the smile slips from his lips.
    “I want you in the back of the truck making a bunch of noise so they chase us,” he says baldly, and my mouth drops open.
    “Outside?” I ask for clarification, and he nods. I take a deep breath. “Okay,” I say, and I’m a little offended by how surprised he looks at my willingness to cooperate.
    “The back window opens, you should be able to climb in and out through there.” I stare behind me at the blood-smeared window. “Okay,” I echo, my voice quieter this time, reflecting my doubt. “Should I go now?” I ask, and Silas nods.
    “It can’t hurt to get into position. Just make sure you stay low enough that you don’t get thrown out of the truck, but high enough that they can see you.” I nod my head. “Oh, and, Blondie…” he says, making me look back at him. “Make sure you make a lot of noise—we want their attention.”
    I try to memorize his advice as I climb over the bloody seats, making a face when my hand lands in a wet spot. I cringe again when my knees land in several pints of fresh blood, and I know that this must be where the Jamie zombie ate his friend. I try to slide the window open, but my hand slips because of the wet, sticky blood. I wipe my hands on my pants and try again. This time I manage to get a little traction and it slides open, letting in a much needed breath of fresh air.
    The window isn’t very big, but I squeeze through once I take off my backpack and toss it out the window ahead of me. I feel like a