Read Online The Spy's Little Zonbi by Cole Alpaugh - Free Book Online

spots.
    â€œ Here ya go, Chief.” He turned the hook over to the commander of the volunteer department.
    â€œ Piñata,” Limp whispered, nodding his head. “No candy, though.”
    The chief walked toward the tree, careful not to stand directly under the body since the limb holding the twisting corps was bent hard under the weight. It looked as though the limb would snap at any second. The man had apparently climbed the dead tree, thrown the cord out over the branch, tied it off in a slip knot and then attached himself to the other end. The final step was just letting go of the trunk and swinging out, quickly choking to death.
    The rope was out of reach of any of the fire department ladders, so the chief decided to attack from below.
    â€œ Jimmy!” he shouted, and the tallest of his men shuffled forward from the semicircle. The chief handed him the hook. “Try to get him by the belt.”
    â€œ Turn around and face me, Pie.” Limp checked the settings of his camera. “Hold your left hand up like this, like you’re dangling a piece of string.” He demonstrated with his own hand. “Pretend like you’re holding a mouse by the tail.”
    Behind them, Jimmy hooked the victim’s belt and pulled down with most of his weight, but neither the tree limb nor the rope budged. Chase watched over his shoulder as the tall fireman secured his grip higher on the hook bar, increasing the pressure until his own boots were a few inches off the ground.
    â€œ Hearns!” the chief shouted. Jimmy and the corpse were now both slowly rotating. “Give him a hand, for Christ’s sake!”
    The new fireman stepped up behind Jimmy, looping his arms under Jimmy’s armpits and mounting him from behind to add weight. Small sharp warning cracks came from the heavy limb as the dead man’s feet tap-danced on Jimmy’s yellow helmet, his milky eyes bulging to the size of golf balls.
    â€œ Almost,” said the chief. “Somebody grab a body bag. I want him zipped up as soon as he’s down.”
    â€œ Smile.” Limp framed Chase in the foreground, with the optical illusion of his pinched fingers holding the top end of the nylon cord and three men.
    Chase smiled.
    â€œ This doesn’t seem right, Limp.” But the chief photographer was busy firing away, bending and dipping to line up the shot just right. Sweat was pouring down his face, and his shirt was plastered to his thick body.
    â€œ Chin up a little to the left. Good. Perfect. Hold that.”
    The branch snapped like a gunshot, echoing through the woods, the body crashing down on the two firemen in a heap. The twenty-foot limb missed hitting the firemen, but slammed down on the head and back of the dead man, pinning all three in a spider web of white rope.
    â€œ Oh, God!” moaned one of firemen from under the rapidly deflating corpse, which had become a gigantic whoopee-cushion of evil-smelling gases. The long, fart-like blatting sound drew sniggers from the on-looking cops and firemen until the odor reached them. They backed up a few steps, their emergency response training stuck in neutral.
    â€œ Help!” But the more Jimmy flailed to escape the body, the more entangled he and the other fireman became, thrashing under the dead weight and tree branch.
    â€œ That tall boy’s gonna have nightmares,” Limp said, motioning with his chin.
    â€œ Hold the fuck still!” The second fireman, who was on the bottom of the pile, tried digging his heels in to push out from under the mess.
    â€œ There’s shit!” screamed Jimmy. “Oh, Lord, there’s shit everywhere!”
    Limp slowly rewound the spool of film. “I can’t wait to turn these in to Mack,” he said. “You might want to grab a quick photo once they get him all tucked into the body bag. Then help me find my hat.”
    ***
    On the ride back to Salisbury Limp’s car stank with the odor of