Free Dead Beginnings (Vol. 1) by Alex Apostol Page B

Rowan’s life he wanted more. He wanted to feel that intoxicating surge of energy again. Not only was he an important part in preserving mankind, but Rowan was now forever indebted to him. The man would do anything for him and Lonnie knew it.
                  Up through a small clearing in the trees, a squat male appeared and shuffled into the circle of silver moonlight. Its clothes were tattered rags and chunks of its hair had been ripped out of its head, pieces of skin taken with it to leave bloody patches exposing white skull. With its mouth gaping open, it emitted a raspy, hissing growl and its head lolled to one side.
    Lonnie looked the thing in its white milky eyes before he cracked it in the head with the butt of his gun, never breaking stride. It was knocked onto its back, stunned for a moment but not dead in the way it should’ve been. The two men continued on past it.
                  There was no time to stop and make sure every single zombie they encountered was put out of its miserable existence. It was all about priorities. Finding survivors was more important than cleaning up the mess. That would come later, when Lonnie had gathered enough followers to take on the dead, one small horde at a time, until the living could regain their claim over their shit town.
                  On either side of the path the two men took, branches rustled and shadowed bodies limped along. Blackened outlines of heads turned on fragile necks toward the commotion of the two men moving seamlessly through the night. They zeroed in their sites on the fresh meat, trailing after it like a pack of dogs.
    Lonnie never looked back once. There was no way those things could catch up. As long as he focused on what was ahead of him, he would make it out of the woods alive to save another life.
                  Rowan’s breathing wheezed out of his chest with every exhale while Lonnie kept stride without hindrance. He knew the man’s tall, toned, body was all for show. The guy probably never went to the gym in his life. Some people were just built that way, but where was that going to get him now? What would Lonnie do if Rowan couldn’t keep up, if he had to stop and catch his breath?
    Before he would’ve said “fuck it” and left the man to his fate, but now—now he would do whatever it took to save the sad sap, for no other reason than the fact that he could. He was capable. He was a zombie killing machine that no one could stop, and he loved every minute of it. He may not have graduated from boot camp or married Amy as planned. It took the world falling apart for him to find the purpose to his life. Funny how things worked out.
     
     
     
    XVII.
     
     
     
                  Lonnie Lands and his faithful follower didn’t rest until they reached highway twelve again. Once the soles of their shoes met the hard pavement both men doubled over, hands on knees, and heaved in and out in attempts to steady their breathing. Several minutes passed like that on the quiet, deserted street. Lonnie was the first to right himself, scan his surroundings, and get his bearings straight.
                  Up the road there was a single swaying body standing about fifty yards away, its back turned to them. It was the first time either of the two men had seen one of those things almost completely still. They couldn’t make out what captivated it in the distance, if anything did, but the trance it was in was a stroke of luck for the exhausted duo.
                  Halfway between the mesmerized zombie and the two living, breathing humans was a car smashed into the thick trunk of a tree, the front end crunched in like an accordion. There was no movement in or around the vehicle.
                  Rowan finally stood up straight, a hand on his aching chest, and turned to Lonnie. He waited for the only two things that made any sense in that chaotic, upside down