Read Online B-Movie War by Alan Spencer - Free Book Online

late twenties. He would have a new girl in his “hot box” every other night. Lucky Lester had been fired for failing to change out the reels during features before because of the ladies.
    That wouldn’t happen tonight. He was alone. Lucky Lester checked his watch. Quarter until midnight. Lucky was ready to prep the first reel into the projector when a knock rapped on the door. He was about to hide his bottle of booze when he thought the hell with it. Mr. Baxter couldn’t fire him. His job wouldn’t exist in a matter of hours.
    Lucky swigged from the bottle defiantly and opened the door.
    It wasn’t Mr. Baxter.
    The stranger wore a slimming black dress. Her long blonde hair was in her face in long golden tresses. Blue eyes beheld him. She had the look. Enough slut and enough pretty to keep him interested. She wanted sex and lots of it. Her eyes were begging for it.
    â€œSo baby, what brings you up here in Lucky’s box? You a fan of the movies? You want to see the magic that happens in this booth?”
    In a Brooklyn accent, she said, “Mr. Ratchet says you’re paid up. I’m all yours, mister, but don’t take too long. I’ve got a living to make.”
    She removed the gum she was chomping on and stuck it to the wall over the poster of The Clothesline Killer .
    â€œSomebody bought you for me?” Lucky Lester said it while eying her up and down from her impressive cleavage to ankles trapped by the straps of her red stiletto shoes. “Must be a going away present.”
    She locked the door behind her. “This won’t take long, honey. Take your underwear off.”
    Lucky was pushed to the ground. His back against the floor. The woman was a wildcat. She straddled him by the hips. She took him in without taking off her dress or her shoes.
    â€œThere you go. Oh yeah. There you go, honey. Keep it up. You’re a real big man. Ohhh honey.”
    Her nasally voice would’ve ruined the moment, but she felt so good, Lucky Lester couldn’t stop pumping himself into her.
    â€œNot too much longer, honey, and you’ll get what you want. I’ll give it to you real good, baby.”
    Lucky’s body was bent backwards. A hundred bones cracked. His arms and legs struck the back of his head. He was folded in half. The hand that clutched his dick pulled him forward, and what hid inside the hooker ate him right up.
    Mr. Ratchet stepped over the widening pool of blood on the projection booth’s floor. The hooker was gone, having moved on to another customer. Lucky Lester was no more. Mr. Ratchet held a stack of reels in his hands. Blood leaked from the metal canisters. Maggots and mealworms were stuck onto the outside, squirming in death juices. Mr. Ratchet set up the first reel and turned on the projector.
    The Final Flesh played on movie theatre’s screen.
    A declaration of war.

Chapter Seven
    Afraid of what could be behind the exit door, Penny was forced to think fast. She hid behind a pile of old theatre seats. Who was coming into the building? Penny waited for the exit door to open. The door did open, and one-by-one, they shambled in. The rush of cold night air was ripened by a punch of dead flesh and expired organs on the same level as what the reels of film were soaking in those damnable plastic bins. Dressed for the grave, their faces mummified and decayed beyond the point of having features except curvatures of bone and petrified flesh, the word repeated in Penny’s brain: zombie . In their arms were cardboard boxes. The half dozen zombies kept filing in and out of the back room piling up the boxes. This happened for ten long agonizing minutes. Penny could feel her body’s muscles lock up from being crouched low for so long. Her lungs could pop, the way she wanted to scream and call out for help.
    After leaving the back room again, the zombies didn’t return. Penny stayed still for minutes. She decided to take the chance to see if