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  Steve supplied the words for him.

  “Now what?”

  Bob nodded toward the car.

  The two branches it was sitting on began to bow toward the ground in response to the shifted weight. They bent a foot, then three and suddenly snapped with a loud rending crack.

  The red sports car tilted and slid toward the ground, but when the branches cracked under the weight, it shifted the car in the other direction.

  Instead of landing on the passenger side where Bob had placed him, the car rode the branches down to the ground with a loud crash.

  It smashed on top of the four zombies, crushing them under the wood and metal with loud squishy sounds they could hear from the road.

  The smoke roiled from under the hood as liquids plopped onto the still hot engine.

  “He’s down,” said Steve. “Good work, Knob.”

  “What now? Emma said.

  “Why does he call you knob?” asked T.

  “Because he thinks it makes him clever,” Bob answered. “And that’s the upper limit of his rhyming skill.”

  He turned toward Emma.

  “He should be getting out. He might be dizzy, but the coast is clear, except for those three.”

  He motioned toward the three Z as they struggled to climb the sharp embankment toward where they were standing.

  “Hey!” Bob called down.

  They could make out the shape of the man inside the car, his shoulder and head, but he wasn’t moving.

  “Do you think he hit his head?” Emma asked.

  Bob shrugged.

  Emma turned to Steve.

  “We need to go check on him.”

  In answer, Steve pointed to the three zombies clawing their way up the hill.

  “I’ll take care of it,” said T.

  She skipped further down the road and began yelling, waving her arms. The noise and movement turned the Z on her, and they began to scramble and slide in her direction.

  “Stay here, Knob,” Steve hopped down the hill.

  “It was my idea,” Bob said.

  “Yeah, but you’re not as fast as we are,” said Steve.

  Emma slid down next to him, like surfing on the slick grass that covered the embankment down to the lowlands.

  She fought for balance at the bottom and Steve caught her, holding her arm for the three seconds it took for her to recover.

  “Hurry up!” Bob yelled.

  The Z broke away from T and began moving toward Bob.

  “Damn it,” he yelled again. “See what you made me do.”

  Emma and Steve approached the car, picking through the slender pine branches and sticky needles.

  “Are you okay?” Emma said to the man. “Mister?”

  She leaned in to peek through the window.

  “Oh,” she said and stepped back.

  “What is it?”

  Steve moved a branch aside and stared inside the car.

  A thick limp had pierced the undercarriage, worked through the components impaled the man from the small of his back up through his chest.

  His head lolled to one side, blood soaking his shirt and pooling in the floorboard.

  Steve could see it leaking through the bottom of the car, mixing with oil and radiator fluid on the dark forest ground.

  “Check the trunk,” said Emma.

  He worked his way around the back of the car and tried the driver’s door.

  It was locked.

  He reached in through the open window and bent at the waist, folding his body down to reach the trunk release lever.

  His fingertip caught it and he pulled, the loud clack making Emma jump.

  Steve started to pull out of the car when he saw a chrome plated pistol in the floorboard.

  He stretched further, but he black grip was just out of reach.

  He lifted his feet off the ground and shimmied in a littler further. It threw his balance off, almost spilled him into the passenger seat.

  He reached out with his right arm to balance. It brought his shoulder close to sticky bloodstains that coated the dashboard and console.

  But it put the pistol in reach. He wrapped his fingers around the grip and pulled it close as he began to wiggle out of the car.

  The man grabbed his right arm and yanked it toward his mouth.

  Steve screamed, twisted and pulled. The move didn’t free him from the newly turned zombie.

  He put all of his weight on his hips and stomach on the edge of the door, swung the pistol up and pulled the trigger.

  Zombie brains and goo spread across the passenger side window and rear of the car.

  Steve spilled out backwards, fell ass over tea kettle and held his hands up to his ringing ears.

  He could see Emma mouthing at him as she pushed past the branches and debris to reach him.

  “Are you okay?” he read her lips.

  “Yeah,” he pushed himself off the ground and shook his head. “I can’t hear anything.”

  He didn’t realize he was shouting.

  Emma glanced up at the road and looked over her shoulder.

  The three zombies had turned from Bob and rolled down the hill.

  The stood up at the bottom and began shuffling toward Steve and Emma.

  She tugged on his sleeve, pulling him away from the car.

  “Wait!” he screamed. “Wait!”

  He popped the trunk and fished out a backpack and a duffle bag. He did a quick sweep, but there were only the two bags in the back.

  Emma searched the embankment for a way to avoid the Z and reach the road.

  Steve stepped up next to her, aimed the pistol and blasted another loud explosion through the humid forest air.

  One of the Z on the outside thudded to the pine needle covered floor.

  “That way!” Steve shouted, directing Emma to the opening he had created.

  She ran to the steep hill and clawed her way to the top.

  Halfway up, she heard the loud hand cannon go off again and the thud of another Z dropping to the ground.

  She made it to the top and T bent down to help her stand.

  Bob joined them as they watched Steve climb the embankment. He was using one hand, the other holding the gun, and the bags threw him off.

  He struggled up as the Z gained ground.

  “Shoot it!” Bob squealed. “Shoot it! Shoot it!”

  Steve rolled over onto his back as the Zombie reached his feet. Fingers yanked on his soles.

  He raised the gun, aimed for the open mouth gaping at him and pulled the trigger.

  The hammer clicked on an empty chamber.

  He pulled the trigger again and nothing happened.

  The zombie snapped at his ankle. Steve drew back a foot and smashed it into it’s face. He hit it twice more and the Z slid down the slope, broken jaw popping open and closed at an odd angle.

  Steve adjusted the bags and finished the climb.

  “Can we go now!” he screamed. “That noise might attract more of them!”

  “So will your screaming,” said Bob.

  “What?”

  “He can’t hear yet,” Emma explained.

  “He can’t?” Bob grinned as she led them back to the SUV.

  “The gun went off in the car,” she said. “It was loud.”

  “He can’t hear what I’m saying?” Bob grinned even wider. “Hey Steve!”

  He waved his arms.

  “Hey Steve, I think you’re a tool.”

  Steve tripped him on the road. Bob didn’t fall all the way, but he stumbled a few steps before righting himself.

  “I can still read lips, Knob.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Steve sat in the passenger seat and unzipped the backpack. He pulled out a couple of bags of trail mix and passed them back to Bob, who tossed them into the rear compartment on top of the bag of food from the house.

  He found two liter bottles of water and handed them back as well, and a box of shells for the hand cannon sitting between his f
eet. He dropped the shells between his shoes and unzipped the next compartment.

  “Jackpot,” he snickered and handed Bob three adult magazines featuring highly enhanced models on the cover. “A little reading material for you Knob.”

  “Stop yelling,” Bob pointed to his mouth. “Read my lips. Use your inside voice.”

  Steve shrugged and nodded his head.

  “That’s it,” he said in a softer voice.

  He handed the backpack to Bob.

  “Put it in the way back, we can use it later.”

  He shifted the duffle bag onto his thighs and zipped it open.

  “Clothes,” he announced as he sifted through the belongings. “And this.”

  He passed a sheaf of papers back to Bob to peruse while he kept looking.

  “We can use the clothes,” he said as he sealed the duffle.

  “Guys,” Bob said as he read a pamphlet. “This is it.”

  He unfolded it and held it up for them to examine.

  “This is what?” Emma said as she turned in the seat.

  “It’s a map.”

  He turned it around so they could read.

  “It’s from the government and it’s telling people where to go.”

  He pointed to a spot on the paper that marked a refugee camp.

  “Is that what you heard about?” Emma looked at T.

  T shrugged.

  “We saw some of these before and people were talking, you know, but I never read it.”

  She looked at the piece of paper where Bob was pointing and made a face.

  “It could be.”

  Steve snatched it from his hand.

  “We can go and check it out at least!”

  Emma put a finger up to get his attention and he watched as she moved it in close and put it against his lips.

  “Inside voice,” she reminded him. “Bob said.”

  Steve grunted an acknowledgement.

  “Besides,” he said. “What else do we have planned?”

  “How about surviving?” said Bob. “And dinner and a safe place to stay the night.”

  Emma glanced through the windshield.

  “We still have a couple of hours of daylight,” she said. “We can go in that direction and see what we find along the way.”

  She glanced around at the others, getting small nods of encouragement and acknowledgement.

  “Tell me where to go,” she said.

  “Just maybe not so fast,” said Bob.

  Emma started the engine and put the truck in gear. She checked over her shoulder, just in case and pulled out on the road, headed in the direction Bob indicated.

  TO BE CONTINUED

  RESTRICTED

  Can I send you FLYOVER ZOMBIE for free?

  Lunar Hustle- Prequel to The Dipole Shield

  The Dipole Shield - The Dipole Series

  Planet 9 - The Dipole Series

  Planet 10 – The Dipole Series

  Phalanx - Invasion Earth

  Pyrrhic - Invasion Earth

  Beachhead - Invasion Earth

  Bridgehead - Invasion Earth

  Lodgement – Invasion Earth

  Ultima Thule – Invasion Earth

  Infiltrate – Invasion Earth

  Dustoff – Invasion Earth

  Riki Tik- Invasion Earth

  Snakebit – Invasion Earth

  Defilade – Invasion Earth

  Moon Men

  Epoch - The Future Templar

  Eon- The Future Templar

  Era - The Future Templar

  Super Secret Space Mission

  The Herd Shot Round the World

  High Steaks

  Battlefield Z

  Children's Brigade

  Sweet Home Zombie

  Zombie Blues Highway

  Mardi Gras Zombie

  Bluegrass Zombie

  Outcast Zombie

  Renegade Zombie

  Everglade Zombie

  Flyover Zombie - the Battlefield Z series

  Headshots - the Battlefield Z series

  Overland Zombie

  Lone Star Zombie

  Cowboy Z

  The Pass

  Dust Devil Z

  Terminal Z

  Battlefield Z – Gone Dark

  Battlefield Z – Silent Run

  Battlefield Z – No Entry

  Conscripted - the Shadowboxer files

  Mission One - the Shadowboxer files

  Shadowboxer - the Shadowboxer files

  Decreed - the Shadowboxer files

  Suspect - the Shadowboxer files

  True Nature – the Shadowboxer files

  Nominee

  Disavowed

  Credible Threat

  Attache

  Tin Trooper – a Shadowboxer story

  Nazi Nukes - a Shadowboxer story

  Witchmas - a Marshal of Magic story

  Witchmas Eve - a Marshal of Magic story

  Witchmas Day- a Marshal of Magic story

  Small Medium at Large

  Low Elf Esteem

  Big Trouble

  The Holy War – Blood Bound

  The Holy War – Oath Bound

  The Holy War – Honor Bound

  Fort Smith – Judged by Twelve

  Fort Smith - Carried by Six

  Evasion - Destruction Earth

  Omnibus Collections

  Battlefield Z Collected Adventures Volume I

  Battlefield Z Collected Adventures Volume II

  Battlefield Z Collected Adventures Volume III

  Invasion Earth Collected Adventures Volume I

  Invasion Earth Collected Adventures Volume II

  Sanctioned – Shadowboxer Files

  Unsanctioned – Shadowboxer Files

  Incursion

  Mobilize

  FROM OVERLAND ZOMBIE – a Battlefield Z series

  OVERLAND

  “We’re low on ammo,” Javier pulled Sharp to one side and spoke low into his shoulder.

  The Captain nodded and slapped his second in command on the shoulder.

  “We’ll make do,” he said.

  Seamus Sharp watched Javier move back to the small group gathered by the gates. Javi looked tired. They all did.

  Less than twenty four hours on the ground and the parameters of the mission scope had changed.

  A rescue mission launched for a single female had turned into a cross country run with a thousand survivors. Maybe more.

  Captain Sharp took a deep breath through his nose and let it out again in a long deep sigh.

  “That bad?” Pam Ballentine asked from beside him.

  He turned to regard the top of her head. She was tall and thin, long hair pulled into a dirty ponytail and tucked under rumpled clothes that looked borrowed. Her own fashion designer threads had probably been damaged in the plane crash that left her stranded in the middle of Kansas, he thought.

  She plucked at the collar of her shirt and sniffed.

  “Do I offend?” she smirked.

  Sharp returned a tight grin.

  “It’s just my face,” he said. “I have a resting bitch face.”

  Pam nodded.

  “My dad calls that a stone face. Hard to negotiate or play poker with those kinds of guys.”

  “I don’t play,” Sharp answered.

  The mention of her father made him wonder about their timeline. Her Dad, Roger Ballentine was the Chairman of the Council. Capital C on both.

  He was the powerful figure who was responsible for what was left of humanity after a zombie plague swept the nation. His fast action and stubborn tenacity built a wall along the mountain ranges on the east and west coast, blocking off the middle of America and containing most of the damage to the interior.

  “We’re ready,” Javi called out.

  “I’ve been in a foxhole made from the dead,” Sharp told Pam as he marched over to join his men. “It’s gonna take a little more than feminine sweat to make me think stink.”

  Pam batted her e
yes.