Free Zombie Killers: Ice & Fire by John Holmes, Ryan Szimanski Page B

BATMAN.”
    She shook her head. “Nobody can beat my girl.”
    Jonesy crouched forward. “Next time we get in the shit, I want to see YOU doin all that dancing around Karate shit on the zombies. Then we can call YOU Hitgirl.”
    “OK then. I’m pretty sure you just want to see me in tights and a miniskirt.”
    I laughed. “THAT I would pay to see.”
    She batted her eyes at me. “Play it right and you might, old man.”
    Doc laughed. “As your physician, Nick, I advise against it. Might give you a heart attack.”

Chapter 23
    We stopped for the night when it got too dark to see without using the headlights.  The engine noise was bad enough; the lights would be a dead giveaway. One man stayed up in the turret, and another stayed awake. I settled into the front seat, trying to get co mfortable, wrapped in my woobie, and slowly drowsed off. Half my mind slept, the other half listened for unusual sounds, changes in the conversation, anyone saying my name. It was a skill combat soldiers had been learning since long before Alexander’s phalanxes had marched through Persia.
    It wasn’t an unusual noise that woke me; it was a kick to the head. J was up in the turret. “Nick” he whispered. “We got movement in the woods, undead, maybe a hundred.” I reached over slowly and shook Doc’s shoulder. His eyes opened, but he didn’t move. The turret ring ticked on its ball bearings as Jonesy traversed to cover the group. A hundred undead could swarm the truck, no problem.
    Ahmed was already awake, on watch. He slowly slid his window down and extended his rifle out, lining up on the closest zombie.
    From the other side of the truck came a THUD and then the zombie howl. Brit woke with a start and then caught sight of the rotted face smearing itself on her window, and she screamed. Her shotgun, cradled in her arms with the barrel pointed at the floor, went off with a BANG that deafened all of us. The stock jumped up and hit her in the jaw, and she collapsed, out cold. I felt, rather than heard, the truck start, and hot brass started showering down from above as Jonesy engaged.
    My ears still ringing, I yelled for Doc to get us the fuck out of there. He shifted into drive and floored it, but we didn’t move. Ahmed closed his window, reached over, and pulled Jonesy down from the turret. J fell in and closed the hatch behind him, locking it. The Z’s swarm ed around the truck, rocking it as they pounded into it. We sat there, engine revving, going nowhere.
    “Doc, check out Brit, see if she’s OK. J, figure out what the hell is wrong with the truck.”
    “On it, Boss.” The two big guys squeezed past each other, trying to maneuver in the confines of the truck. Doc shone a flashlight in Brit’s eyes, then broke out some smelling salts. She woke up quickly, and then vomited all over herself.
    “She’ll be OK. Slight concussion, we’ll have to keep an eye on her, keep her awake.”
    Jonesy had been shining a light under the seat. “Wish I could say the same about the truck. Looks like she done shot the transmission shifter linkage away.”
    “Crap. Well, OK, nothing we can do about it right now. They aren’t going to get through the armor. We’re just going to wait them out. Figure three days, max.”
    “Can’t we just, you know, open the window a bit and shoot them?”
    I thought about it. At this stage in the game, we didn’t know how zombie infection was transmitted. I was worried about body fluids splashing back and contaminating someone through the open window.
    “Maybe when it gets light out. Right now, let’s get some sleep. We have about three hours. One man on, hour each. I’ll take first, keep Brit awake.”
    The others slowly dropped off. I sat and stared at Brit , then drew out my 9mm and put it on the dashboard. She looked back at me, barely visible in the light thrown off by the radio.
    “Nick, I’m sorry.”
    “Right now, I’m trying to decide whether to put you outside the truck, or just shoot