Free Alive! Not Dead! by R.M. Smith Page B

are you after my fucking food! Huh?”
    I said quietly “There isn’t any.”
    He quickly pointed the gun at me.  Blood bubbled from his neck.  “You ate it?”
    “There wasn’t any when we got here,” I said quietly again.
    BLAM!
    Ski shot the man with his shotgun.
    The man bellied backward as his back blew out.  His body fell backward onto the blood covered floor with a thud.  Ski quickly ran over to the man grabbing the pistol.
    “Empty” he said.  “Fucker was playin us.”
    “But what happened to him?” Mindy asked.  “He looked like a zombie!”
    “That’s what I thought too,” I said.  “He looks like he got away from a group of them or something.  His arm’s been bitten off.”
    Ski shone the flashlight down onto the man.  With our closer inspection of him, he did look like he had fought a bunch of deads off.  His legs had been bitten through his trousers.  It looked like his left arm had been ripped off, not chewed off, and his neck was deeply bitten into.
    He stirred.
    “The hell ?” Ski said.
    The man tried to stand up but he was having a hard time with it.  Cindy went to him, offering to help him stand.
    The man grabbed Cindy’s arm roughly.
    “Hey!” she said.  “Let me go!”
    “Let her go!” Ski shouted.
    The man didn’t let go.  Instead, he raised her arm to bite it.
    Ski kicked the man behind the kneecap.  The man went down, still holding Cindy’s arm, still trying to bite her.
    Ski put the shotgun to the back of the man’s head.  “Let go, fucker,” he said.
    The man bit down, but missed Cindy’s arm by inches.
    Cindy was able to break free,
    The man snarled, reaching around for someone else to grab.
    Ski shot the man in the back of the head.  His head blew apart, brain and blood splashed against the far wall.
    We all stood there, out of breath.
    “You didn’t have to kill him…” Cindy started.
    “He was a fucking zombie,” Ski said.  “He was trying to eat you!”
    “But, I was just trying to help him…”
    “You can’t help a fucking zombie,” Ski said.  “They don’t want to be helped.  All they want is your flesh.”
    “And your brains,” Mindy added.
    Ski looked at her, a smirk on his face.  “This isn’t Night of the Living Dead , Mind.  This isn’t comic book stuff – or movie stuff.  This is real.”
    “They don’t want our brains?” Mindy asked.
    “Looks to me like all they want is our blood.”
    I nodded.  “Yeah, they only go for flesh.  I haven’t seen any eating brains.”
    “You’ve seen a lot of them, then?” Cindy asked, hands on her hips.
    “Quite a few,” I said.  “The plane crash was surrounded by them.  None of them were eating brains.  Then down on the highway a couple deads tried to bite me, but none ever reached for my head.  All I’ve ever seen them go for is flesh and blood.”
    “So you’ve seen a few .  I guess that makes you our expert,” Cindy said.
    “He’s guessing,” Mindy said.  “Damn Cindy, what’s wrong with you?”
    “I’m scared, ok?” she said, covering her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.  “I don’t get this.”
    “None of us do, hon,” Ski said, putting an arm around her.  “We’re all scared.  None of us know what’s going on – and it doesn’t help arguing about it.  We need to be careful and watch each other’s back, ok? Dan’s not causing any trouble here, hon, he’s just,” he shrugged his shoulders “trying to help.”             
    Ski went over to the desk. Shuffling through it he found a bullet in the right hand top drawer.  “This might be better than your tire iron,” he said as he tossed it to me.
    “What?” I asked, somewhat confused.
    He gave me the gun that the man had dropped, too.  “Now you’re armed.”
    “Thanks,” I said.
    “You bet,” he said.  “Now let’s get out of here before someone follows the sound of my shotgun going off.”
    “Ok,” I said pointing to the dead man on the ground,