Jango's Anthem: Zombie Fighter Jango #2 Read Free Page A

unchecked, and satiate every foul desire they had ever imagined.
    Jango suddenly knew, without a doubt, that the man riding beside him was one of those twists, and that he meant him harm. But, with the long practice of an abuse survivor, Jango kept all of his thoughts and emotions from showing on his face so the man wouldn’t be on guard.
    “ So, you want to come in inside or what?” The man asked as he climbed out of the car.
    “ Yeah, yeah, I'm coming,” Jango replied.
    Jango opened his car door and stretched, taking the opportunity to look around. He immediately noticed that the grounds of the house were plain and unassuming. There wasn't anything in sight to give him any information that could be of use. The very lack of personality, though, made him immediately think of masks and disguises, which only added to his feelings of unease.
    He pocketed the keys to the car, pressed the button that locked all the doors, and closed his door tightly. He then walked around the back of the car, and closed the door to the passenger side where the man had just gotten out.
    The man smiled again , and said, “Looks like you could use a new shirt, buddy. When we get inside, I can get you one.”
    “ Sounds good,” Jango responded.
    The man turned and headed toward the enormous house, and Jango followed along behind him.  When they were about fifteen feet from the house, he noticed the man reach into his right front pocket.
    Jango had left his stick in the car, and he suddenly found himself wishing that he had it right then. In the absence of his stick, Jango silently pulled the spine cutter from its sheath on his belt, and held it in an icepick grip with the blade’s edge facing away from his hand.
    Instead of attacking or pulling a weapon out of his pocket though, the man just seemed to fiddl e around in his pocket. Jango heard a muted “thunk!” come from the front door and decided that the man had pressed some kind of automatic opener when he had reached into his pocket.
    The man turned his head to look over his shoulder as he opened the door to the house, and said, “Well, come on in and make yourself at home.”
    Jango allowed the adrenaline to begin trickling through his system as he stepped slowly through the door. The adrenaline flow started the process that would take him into his destroy mode. With his senses sharpened under the influence of adrenaline, he noticed a smell coming from Bernard, and it was a smell that he had been exposed to before.
    When Jango was a teenager , the state had put him into the county hospital where they kept all the lunatics that the state system had chewed up and spit back out. The smell that permeated the air now was the same stench that had been exuded by a violent schizophrenic who had been locked-down in that hell hole, a man who would never be able to live out among people again. The man had been an eater of human flesh, and a killer of women and children.
    Jango decided to finish the problem right then and there. Still holding his knife in an icepick grip, he threw a hard right cross at the back of the man's neck. He aimed his fist just to the left of the man's neck so that the blade would make contact with the man's neck just at the base of his skull.
    Jango's powerful strike slammed the heavy, razor-edged blade through flesh, and between vertebrae. Jango felt the slight resistance of flesh, and then the wrenching force against the blade as it severed the man’s spinal cord. The man dropped to the floor and lay unmoving.

 
    Chapter 3:
    Some Seriously Sick Shit
     
    Jango stared dispassionately at the unmoving corpse. The stench of twisted madness , blood, and loosened bowels rose from the man's body in an almost palpable miasma of degeneracy.
    He suddenly felt an urgent need to find out what secrets this man had been hiding in his enormous home. He wiped his knife on the dead man's shirt, and then sheathed it. Jango felt the urge to go back to the car to get his stick, but he