Free Zombie Rush 2 by Joseph Hansen Page A

her when she is down? Real nice.”
    “So you understand why I hit you. Am I forgiven?” Skit asked.
    “Skit …” she paused and looked at him for several seconds, wondering how she was going to word what she wanted to say. It wasn’t a crush or anything romantic at all, it was just …
    “You’re like, my only friend, okay? I know we just met yesterday, but there was a connection; even when I thought you were a drug addict. That’s why I didn’t shoot you. I never really had a friend before because of who my parents were and how we moved a lot. I never needed a friend, but with everything that’s happening …”
    “It’s cool, I get it. I am the complete opposite, in that most of the people in this city are, or were, my friends. You’re really creeping me out right now, so could you go back to the Raging Reynolds? It’s somehow safer,” Skit said sarcastically, and she smiled, not knowing if that should have hurt her feelings or made her laugh.
    “It’s Lisa, by the way.”
    “I know that, wait … are you sayin’ I can call you that, or somethin’?”
    “You can call me Lisa as long as you remember that these people have to realize that I am still in charge.”
    “I get that. We cool. I appreciate you understanding why I hit you.”
    “I understand. The fuckers at the hospital only shaved a part of my head for the stitches, so we’re going to have to remedy that.”
    “I can help you there. I went to cosmetology school and worked in the field before Jonah started paying me too much money.”
    A stereotypical flashing red light went off in her head. She didn’t want to categorize and she could tell he was just waiting for her to ask, so she did.
    “Are you gay, Skit?”
    “Couldn’t resist, could you? You just had to ask … why is that, I wonder?”
    “Are you?”
    “Make your play, woman, and find out,” he said with a smirk and kept on walking.
    “Fucker.”
    “You really do have a potty mouth, you know.”
    ****
    “That girl was messed up,” Skitter said after they left the hospital and geared up before heading to the wall.
    “Yeah, poor kid. At least we now have a name and description.”
    “Nope.”
    “What do you mean nope?” Lisa said.
    “You got yourself an 8x10 glossy. Mount Ida Hospital was just a branch of this one, so his picture was in the lobby on the wall and when I say ‘was,’ I mean was . I took some copies and passed them off to that tall guy … what was his name?” Skit said before pulling a gently rolled high-resolution photo.
    “Mitch. His name is Mitch, if I remember right.” She looked at the photo and somehow felt deflated because the serial killer the area had feared for so long looked so plain. Not tall or short, full head of hair but not quite. A half-smile with medium lips. She felt that the only extraordinary thing about him was that he was so pasty white. White to the point where he almost matched his lab coat, his blue eyes a startling contrast. His plainness almost took the fight right out of her, but then she noticed something behind the smile that—when combined with the emotionless eyes, left her gut hollow. She was looking for hate; this man had no hate.
    He only had pleasure. A mocking superiority cast to his features that put the rest of humanity beneath him.
    “Do you really think it is the Skinner?” asked Skit, referring to the street name the pre-apocalypse slayer had been labeled with.
    “I do. His MO fits with his training, and he has studied all over the world. Some of the techniques in his murders imply things like acupuncture, leeching, and of course … the neck tie.”
    “The neck tie, does that mean what I think it means?”
    “Yes, it does,” Lisa said gravely. “I was looking for someone with at least some medical training, if not working in the field, so this makes sense. I wonder if he would have left the girl alive if the zombies hadn’t arrived.”
    “Well …” Skit started, and then stopped, not