Free Dead Drunk: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse... One Beer at a Time by Richard Johnson Page A

at his wavering friends to go as the others
pulled a stunned Russ into the living room. Cliff led the charge outside,
pausing to fire a round into the head of the crawling freak show and killing it
instantly. They reached the car and peeled out, running over two snarling women
and swerving onto the sidewalk to avoid a string of burning vehicles. Moments
later, they had disappeared around the corner with a gang of runners trailing
behind them and one clinging precariously to the hood.
    “That certainly could
have gone better,” Left-Nut said while Russ held a can of beer to his raw
scalp, letting loose a string of vulgarity unmatched in its content and
sincerity.
    Charlie had the sudden urge to relieve his bladder and ran
to the bathroom where it felt like he literally pissed razor blades. “That
whore,” he mumbled to himself, and came back to the living room, wondering what
else could possibly happen.
    Mike cleared his throat
loudly to capture everyone’s attention. “I guess now’s as good a time as any.
Guys, I’m gay.”

Chapter
12
    Revelations and
Restraining Orders
     
    Given their dire predicament, Mike’s blockbuster news should
have been no big deal. It should have been.
    “How many times did you stare at my junk in the locker room?
I should kick your ass on principle,” Trent said as he puffed up, his bigotry
not limited to racial lines.
    “You’re not my type, buddy,” Mike responded. “Besides, I
didn’t know back then.”
    “I remember you banging chicks on spring break,” Left-Nut
said. “In fact, I hid in the closet a few times.”
    Charlie’s patience was gone. “Is this a burning concern
right now? Who gives a shit?”
    “What are we gonna call him? He’s been Gay Mike for years
and we sure can’t call him that now, it seems kinda mean,” Big Rob said.
    “How about Straight Mike,” Left-Nut volunteered.
    “Call me whatever you want, I thought I’d level with you.
There’s no reason not to at this point.” He looked at Left-Nut. “And take that
shirt off your head, you look like an idiot.”
    Smokey stood up and began rubbing his hands together. “As
long as we’re clearing the air…”
    “Oh great. I suppose you’re a homo, too?” Trent asked.
    “Dude, not cool,” Smokey said and gave him a dirty look.
“But anyways… how do I put this?” He stumbled around the issue for a bit and
then focused. “I’m a phony. I never actually sold my art like I told everyone.”
    “What about the pictures of the auction, the ones with you
and Sean Penn?” Charlie said.
    “Photoshopped from the Oscars. I added myself in and you can
see Quentin Tarantino in the background if you look hard.”
    “Then how did you afford this place?” Blake asked. “It’s not
like you have a job, and you’ve always smoked more pot than you sold.”
    “Simple. I won the lottery a few years ago and didn’t tell
anyone. Two million and change. It’s just my luck, now the world’s ending.
Ironic, huh?”
    Charlie was dumbfounded. “You’re a millionaire and you
borrowed money from me last week? You let me go to that shit job every day to
pay rent when you had all that cash? I’m gonna fucking kill you!”
    Rob held Charlie back as Smokey tried to explain. “I wanted
people to think I was successful.”
    “Nobody thought you were successful,” Charlie said. “You’ve
been stoned for the past fifteen years. Jackass.”
    “Besides, I’m not a millionaire anymore. I spent a ton
retrofitting this place. Plus I have an expensive habit.”
    “Big deal. We could have been knee-deep in hookers and
coke,” Trent said.
    “Be thankful this place is off the grid,” Smokey said. “That
means we’ll have power no matter what happens.”
    “Actually, good job.” Charlie calmed down as he realized
Smokey was right. “I take back every snide hippy comment I ever made about you.
Still, you could have hooked a brother up.”
    “You would’ve been as lazy as me, and weren’t you