Free The Dead Series (Book 1): Tell Me When I'm Dead by Steven Ramirez Page B

must’ve been huge.”
    “He was,” I said, realizing the story Isaac had told them.
    “You may want to hose that off later so no other police officers pull you over.”
    “Right,” I said.
    As we got onto the main road, a voice on the police radio announced that a violent mob had overrun a convenience store. Two employees were dead. The dispatcher said, “All units respond.”
    The cops looked at each other, and Norm said, “Shit, what do we do?”
    “We have to get this guy to the station.”
    “The store’s on the way. Let’s at least check it out.”
    We rode in silence, the dispatcher’s voice droning in the background. Whatever was going on over there, it sounded hellish. I heard the dispatcher use the word mayhem .
    “You thought about quitting?” the other cop said to Norm.
    “Every damn day.”

 

    The convenience store was in chaos. Twenty or more police and sheriffs’ vehicles, their lights flashing, surrounded the small wooden building with the peeling green paint and cartoon advertisements for slushies and hot dogs. Behind them, dozens of cops trained their weapons on something. Overhead, the blades of a blue-and-white highway-patrol helicopter beat angrily. On the roof, store employees waved their arms, pleading to be rescued. But from what?
    Then I heard it—that awful screeching that I came to know as a death shriek.
    In the distance I saw an Eyewitness News truck and Evie Champagne pushing through the police barricade with her microphone, trying to cover the scene up close as her pudgy, bearded cameraman shot over-the-shoulder video. One of the cops—I think he was a police captain—blocked their path. It was hard to hear.
    “You need to get out of here.”
    “We have a right to be here.”
    Without another word, he grabbed the camera and threw it on the ground.
    “Hey!” the sidekick said.
    Another cop popped the cameraman in the head with his riot stick as Evie let go a string of obscenities. The man dropped to his knees, cursing and cradling his bleeding head. More cops dragged Evie and the cameraman back to their truck, flung the side door open and forced them inside.
    I thought the cops were trying to protect citizens, but I couldn’t help wondering whether they didn’t want any images broadcast. One of the cops stood guard next to the truck to make sure the two news people didn’t come out again. After the captain and the other cops left, though, I saw Evie through the window of the truck shooting video on her cell phone. I had to give it to her, she had cojones.
    All the other cops stood behind their vehicle doors, their weapons pointed at … I don’t know what they were. They resembled people, but they didn’t act normal. They were like those crazies in the forest, climbing over one another, trying to get to something on the ground behind a parked car. I strained to see what it was.
    A human arm.
    As the cops looked on in disgust, these animals ripped a human body to shreds and ate it with a hellish hunger. Eyes, ears, fingers, belly—anything they could grab and devour.
    No one seemed to know what to do. One of the other cops waved at us. Officer Norm switched off the engine and said to me, “You stay here in the back.”
    “Don’t leave me here!”
    Drawing their weapons, he and his partner got out and joined the others as the horde, still not sated, turned their attention to the cops.
    “Halt!” someone said. But the horde pushed forward, their eyes lifeless, their mouths twitchy and bloody.
    I wanted to run, but I had no way to get out of the vehicle. What if one of them broke in?
    A gunshot pierced the thick, stifling air. One of the horde turned sideways, a gaping, bloody hole in his chest. He shook it off and kept coming. A volley of gunshots riddled him, hardly slowing him down.
    Bullets rained down on the horde. One of the rounds hit a woman in the head. Covered in blood, she went down hard and didn’t get up again.
    “Aim for the head!” someone