Free A Dark Evolution (Book 2): Deranged by Jason N. LaVelle Page A

some good fresh meat, and even some dessert,” he said, the last with a sloppy, malicious slur to his words which made Kala’s skin crawl.
    She tried to understand what the relationship between these two might be. Even though Terry was the talker, Mitch was obviously the one in charge. But he was so much older. Could they be brothers? Father and son? She didn’t know. Sophie stood looking terrified between them. All Kala knew was that she couldn't let Sophie fall into their abusive hands, because they meant naught but harm to them.
    “All right, honey, bring me that axe, nice and slow.”
    Kala nodded meekly and held out the axe to Terry with both hands. He let go of the Kalashnikov with his left hand and grabbed the axe. As he did, the gun drifted off to the side a little. As soon as he grabbed the axe, Kala let her right hand drop to her side, as if in defeat. But her hand flicked behind her jeans and gripped the rusted metal in her back pocket.
    In the one second between him taking her axe and holding it up to admire, Kala whipped the tent stake around in a wild, Hail Mary swing. She took one big step forward as she swung, inside Terry's arms so the gun was pointing out, then she sunk the rusted, corroded steel shaft into the side of his neck. Both her shoulder and Terry screamed in agony, then she yanked the stake out, opening his neck to let his life spray out. Before he even fell, Kala spun around, stripping the AK from his grip and bringing it to bear on Mitch, who was too shocked to say anything. His thin pink lips were stretched into a horrified O.
    “Drop him,” she said, deep calm and cold as ice. Sophie was crying, looking at the large, dead, white man on the ground. Mitch had a pistol in a belt holster than she watched carefully. “Let him go, now. I don't know if I can shoot you and not him, but I’m willing to try.”
    Though his eyes were full of defiance that came from a long life full of bullying others and getting whatever he wanted, Mitch pushed Dylan out of the way. Then he faced Kala with his shoulders squared and his arms out wide at his side, as if he were an old west gunfighter. Kala shook her head at him.
    “You gave up your only leverage, fool.” Then she squeezed the trigger. The ten-pound trigger stuck for just a moment, then the action engaged, and she sent eight rounds blasting out into the aged man, filling his camouflaged chest with split lead. Bright red blooms filled his desert camo vest and he fell to his knees, gasping for air. “Just breathe man, just breathe,” she said mockingly before he fell to his face on the ground.
    Sophie's wails brought her back into the moment. Dylan had his arms around her, sheltering her from the sights he could not erase. Kala felt bad for what the child had seen, but better to see two murders than to be a victim of rape and murder yourself.
    “Let’s go,” Kala said. “Pack all our shit in the car, come on, hurry.”
    Dylan grabbed their supplies and piled them into the back of the station wagon while Kala stripped the two men of their weapons and ammo. She came out with an old AK-47, a 10 gauge shotgun, two decent hunting knives and a black powder pistol that frankly scared the shit out of her. But she brought it anyway, just in case.
    “It's a damn good thing I’m so good at killing things,” she told herself. And to think, when I was a kid, I thought I wanted to be a doctor or a scientist. Looks like my true calling was as a mercenary. She chuckled at the ridiculousness of the idea, then Dylan shouted to her.
    “Kala, the zombies, they’re coming!”
    Kala ran to the car with her booty. Sure enough, there were almost a dozen of the dead ones coming toward them from both directions down the street. Crap. Time to go. She tossed the guns in the back seat with their bags. Dylan sat, holding Sophie on his lap in the front with him, and Kala jammed on the ignition and stepped on the gas. Thankfully, the car started with no problems this