Wanted: Dead or Undead (Zombie West) Read Free Page A

more." She set her empty glass down on the
bar. "Well, for one thing, I suggest y'all keep a loaded gun on ya at all
times, even while sleeping and taking a piss, and make sure to aim for the
head—a bullet in the gut ain't gonna do a thing. And second... well, there
ain't no second thing. Keep a gun handy. That's about all ya can do."
    The men grumbled.
    "She don't know nothin'," said a large man wearing
buckskin pants, a coon cap, and a beard that hung part way down his chest. Helooked
directly at the girl. "Ain't that right? You know nothin'. I bet that
zombie was your first kill. You jus' got lucky, huh, li'l girl?"
    Trace saw her clutch the empty shot glass and waited for her
to aim it at the ignorant man's head, but she did no such thing. She kept calm
and approached the man with an air of utter confidence, staring him straight in
the eye.
    "How many you killed?"
    "Zombies?"
    She nodded.
    "I've killed a handful or so."
    "Five?" She raised her brow.
    He looked at the cowboy to his left and then back at her.
"I reckon so. Maybe more."
    "So, shall we say six? Or should we give you the
benefit of the doubt and say seven? Better yet, let's round it up to an even
dozen. That sound fair?"
    The man nodded in agreement, but Trace could sense a trap.
    "Let's not even count that man over there." She
pointed to Bill's victim, lying dead near the entrance. "He wasn't a
full-blown zombie, yet. We all know he would've been, but for the sake of
argument, we'll let that one slide. So, your friend Bill there makes ninety-and-nine
for me."
    She removed a small, pearl-handled dagger from its sleeve
and carved a quick notch in her belt, which was riddled with tiny holes.
    Trace had no quarrel believing her. Everything about the
wild-haired girl rang authentic, from her dust-covered chaps to her
weather-beaten hat. She could've exaggerated, but he didn't think so. Of all
the zombies walking North America, he'd killed exactly... zero. His belt looked
as polished as ever.
    The mountain man threw his head back and laughed. "A
pretty li'l thing like you? Killing all them zombies?" He lowered his head
and peered at her with a sinister expression on his face. "I don't believe
you."
    "Never said you had to."
    He clasped her forearm with his grimy hand and pulled her
firmly to his chest, his weathered face only inches from hers.
    Trace stood, ready to step in if necessary.
    She yanked her arm back and smashed the palm of her hand
into the man's pudgy nose. The crack of the break echoed through the room and
silenced the already stunned group of men. She sent an elbow into the man's
chin, to make a final point.
    "Damn, girl!" The mountain man held his nose as
blood trickled down his beard.
    "Hey, mister," Miss Krissee called down from the
railing above. She leaned her arms against the railing and her large chest
nearly tumbled out of her corset. "You wantin' to get frisky? Do it with
someone who won't put up a fight. It'll only cost ya three dollars."
    A few men chuckled, but the red-haired girl didn't look the
least bit amused. She finished her drink and headed for the door. Before
stepping outside, she turned to no one in particular. "Make sure you burn
the bodies. If you don't, the smell will just about kill ya."
    As Trace watched her walk through the swinging doors, it
dawned on him how he knew her. Damn . He couldn't just stand there and
watch the girl disappear. He took a step forward, but the old gambler grabbed
his arm.
    "You forgettin' we're not through here?"
    Trace felt a wave of disappointment as he watched the girl
swing herself up on her horse and head for the town's borders. "Didn't
forget," he lied. "Just hoped after such a crazy moment, I would've
found you in a more forgiving mood."
    "I'm not too keen on forgivin'." The old man
placed his hand on the butt of his gun. "You're a cheater."
    "I would have to disagree." Trace slid his hands
over his own pistols. "I played a fair game. The cards just happened to be
in my favor. You