Free The Adventures of Steve and Terry: The Zombie Chronicles by Mark de Jong

or not, really remains to be
seen. They have made some pretty wild claims, from secret underground research
facilities, to Squirrel City in fact, actually being taken out by a tactical
nuclear weapon. I guess we will never know the truth of what happened to
Squirrel City, since a nuclear meltdown and a nuclear bomb would look exactly
alike. As it is, we are preparing to once again enter the city, we need
supplies. Steve and Terry have volunteered to go with us. We will see if they
are worth their weight, which is surprisingly considerable. How they manage to
stay so well fed in these trying times is truly a mystery.
    Robert closed his secret journal
of the apocalypse and stashed it away. He exited his tent to see Steve and
Terry waiting, both balding and slightly overweight, Steve standing just a
little shorter than Terry. Steve carried a pistol-grip shotgun, while Terry had
two pistols. Robert ran his hand through his own thinning hair.
    “We ready to go?” he asked the
small group heading into the city. They all nodded. Eight people in all.
Dillon, small, quiet, and the only one who really knew the city, would lead the
way. Matt, tall, athletic, and vain was the grab man. Doyle, stocky with a
shaved head was their shooter, the man a crack shot with a rifle. Smiles, tall,
dark, and muscular, was the muscle. Angela, thin, blond, and attractive was
going for reasons of her own. Robert, cool, confident, and steady was the group
leader. And lastly, were Steve and Terry, whose skills and abilities were
unknown.
    Robert nodded to Dillon, who took
point and led the way. The walk to the city took almost an hour. The sun was
hot, beating down on the small group mercilessly. They stopped frequently to
rest and drink water. Steve and Terry, surprisingly, were holding up well.
    When Steve caught Robert looking
at him he smiled. “We’ve been doing this for awhile,” was all he said.
    The group made good time into the
city. They entered through used to be suburbs, empty cookie-cutter houses that
now seemed more like an old fashioned ghost town. Dillon took point, leading
the way with certainty. Robert was right behind him. Bringing up the rear were
Steve and Terry. Terry carried both his pistols, his eyes constantly shifting,
looking for threats. Steve, on the other hand, looked around, wide-eyed, like a
kid at the zoo for his first time. He kept tapping Terry on the shoulder and
pointing at things.
    “Yeah, it’s a house,” Terry said
after one such moment.
    “But it’s a nice house,”
Steve said.
    “Yeah, so?”
    “It could have a pool, man.”
    Terry rolled his eyes. “Seriously?
We’re in the middle of an effing zombie apocalypse , and you want to go
swimming?!”
    Steve shrugged like a scolded
child. “It’s hot,” he said quietly.
    Soon, the houses started to
recede, tall buildings becoming visible. Dillon led the group cautiously now.
He constantly stopped, motioning for the group to be quiet, or get down. As
they walked deeper into the bowels of the city, signs of the apocalypse became
visible.
    They passed an army checkpoint,
nothing left but sandbags and old weapons. The group passed by quickly, except
Steve, who climbed into the gun nest. The group didn’t even know he had stopped
until a deafening gun burst cut through the silence.
    Everyone hit the ground; a girly
scream echoing the gun blast. Everyone looked to Angela, but she shrugged, she
hadn’t screamed. The group looked back to see Steve holding an M-4 assault
rifle.
    “Sorry, sorry, my bad,” the
balding man said. “Didn’t think the thing was still loaded.”
    “Jackass!” Dillon swore. “Every
zombie within five miles must have heard that!”
    “How far are we from the
department store?” Robert asked.
    “Uh, couple of blocks maybe.”
    “Then we keep moving.” Robert
looked pointedly at Steve. “ Quietly .”
    Steve nodded. The group continued
on, except for Steve who searched for more clips. He had found four when he
realized the