Zombies Ever After: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 6 Read Free Page A

sent people out through the opening to scout for food and
water. We also sent people up into this building, but it had been
picked clean. Just ransacked offices.”
    Liam wondered if the Polar Bears had done the ransacking. It made
sense if the skyscraper was their base of operations for the city.
    “Then we had one of our people—a young woman—come
back from one of those snatch-and-grabs with a nasty scratch on her
arm. Said it was done by one of them zombies, but she didn't get
chomped. We fixed her up and thought nothing of it. Left her with her
father.”
    He knew where this was going. That morning he'd seen two of his
fellow travelers get scratched and then...walk away. Like they'd been
brainwashed.
    “But she wasn't good to go. An hour later we found her
attached to the neck of her dad...it was god-awful. But the worst
part was what she did next.” His breathing was labored, but his
voice was steady. “We naturally tried to pull her off—several
of us—and she sprayed blood in our faces. One big exhale, and
we were all infected. But it affected us in different ways. Some
turned in minutes. Others, like me, are dragging it out. I had time
to fight to protect my family...but in the end, it was—”
    He choked up, planting a hand over his face.
    In a whisper, he said, “Some of those things went berserk
like I never seen before. Biting. Scratching. Spitting. It all
happened so fast. A few dozen of us—all survivors of the worst
of things the past few weeks. All fighters. The whole place was wiped
out.”
    “And you don't know if any got into the stairwells, or went
upstairs?”
    “No, it's just me. I had to—”
    A big sniffle.
    “—put down whoever I could.”
    Well, thank you for that small favor.
    He was concerned this would interfere with his desire to leave the
building and find Victoria, but the man's answer told him otherwise.
    “Will you do me a solid?”
    “I'll do whatever I can.”
    “Shoot me dead. I don't want to be one of them things. I
don't want to kill anyone else.”
    “But you haven't turned. Maybe you won't.”
    “Everyone does, son. Everyone does.”
    He thought of Grandma Marty.
    Not everyone.
    “I don't know...if I can.”
    “Never killed anyone, huh?”
    That was a loaded question. It all depended on whether the zombies
were dead or alive, and whether he believed they could be restored to
health with a cure. The honest answer was that he'd never put down
anyone who wasn't a direct threat to himself or his friends and
family. Putting a gun to the man's head in this stairwell would be
something new.
    But if he was infected, it was a matter of time before a decision
had to be made.
    3
    Liam stared at the body. He'd haggled with the man, and finally,
he loaned him his Glock. Now the back of the man's head was a messy
stain on the concrete wall. The pistol had fallen to the guy's far
side, giving him one more dilemma.
    The gun had the man's blood on it.
    Getting blood on him could be a death sentence.
    Losing the gun to superstition could also be a death sentence.
    The infection was everywhere, and nowhere. Getting bit was an
immediate death sentence, but getting scratched also had some effect
on people, though not everyone. He'd seen plenty of people fight
hand-to-hand with zombies, and survive. He'd also been sprayed with
blood, so that wasn't always the end, either. But the man had said
there was something different down there. She spit blood at them. For
some reason, that put fear in him that the blood on the gun was
dangerous.
    He took off his new shirt.
    I need to travel with wet wipes!
    Using a small pocketknife, he cut off one of his sleeves. It would
provide enough material to clean the gun, but it would still allow
him to wear the shirt. He wasn't fond of walking around in the hot
sun without one. He'd done too much of that already. His shoulders
were well-burnt.
    The tan rag gave him what he needed to grab the gun and clean most
of the mess from the grip. He was sure