Read Online Even Zombie Killers Get The Blues (Zombie Killer Blues) by John Holmes - Free Book Online
Authors: John Holmes
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prison, waiting for daylight. Doc, Ahmed and Jonesy were
sleeping while Jacob and I kept watch. As the light slowly filtered into the
east, we all woke for stand-to, making sure no one had sneaked up on us in the
night, no Zs had stumbled into our area. We hadn’t seen one since the day
before; apparently our friends across the canal had been doing a pretty good
job of clearing them out.
Every half hour I called Valkyrie to check on Brit. Late in
the morning Major McHale came on the horn.
"Lost Boys 6, this is Valkyrie 6, your 5 element is out
of surgery. Doing OK, sedated. Will fill you in tomorrow, over." I said a silent prayer of relief and tapped my head
with the hand mike while letting out my breath. Then I gave a thumbs-up to the
rest of team. They all grinned back at me.
Feeling like I had just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson, I
went back to watching the prison.
"Are you crying, Nick?"
"Fuck you, Jonesy."
“You seem to be a little stressed, Nick. Why you
be cursing so much?”
“”I got your stress right here. I’ll be fine once
we get to shoot someone.”
As I watched through my binos, I saw a truck which had
been parked across the front gate of the prison rumble to life and roll back
across. An army LMTV, the cab chopped off and armor plate welded across the
front, pulled out and drove off down the road to the county prison. In the back
were a group of women, dressed in orange prison jumpsuits. They stopped midway
and the women, about a dozen, climbed off the back. One man with a shotgun
jumped down from the remains of the cab. They headed to a field that was
showing some corn sprouting up through the rows and started pulling weeds. The
truck continued down to the county prison and returned with two dozen more men
and women. They looked like concentration camp survivors, all skin and bones.
The original group of women looked almost healthy in comparison. I counted a
total of six guards, armed with shotguns, rifles, and M-16s. As I watched, one
of them occasionally whipped one of the workers. The truck returned to the county
jail and started making trips to the backside of the prison. I counted five
trips before the truck returned to the prison.
I handed the binos to Doc. He studied the scene for
several minutes.
“Tell me what you think, Doc.”
“OK, the first group of women you saw are the party
girls. Either voluntary or not. Fed better, not whipped so often. The others
are slaves and meat.”
“Agreed. I counted three dozen civilians in the
close field and 5 truckloads to the back fields. Make that a total of around a
hundred thirty or so. Figure they have a back entrance to let the guards out to
the back fields. Same number of guards per civilians, makes it around thirty
guards out back. No idea how many are in the prison itself but you have to
figure at least double that number. So, figure maybe a hundred cannibals.”
“Anti-American Forces.”
He snorted. “Whatever. Time to settle in and watch for a few hours. Later today we can head
over and check out the county jail. Obviously being used as a slave pen. What I
can’t figure out is they should be all stirred up by the helicopters and the gun
fire yesterday, yet here they are, acting like nothing happened. ”
“I don’t know. Then again, tough as these guys might
be locally, the heavy-duty shit might be outside their experience and they
probably don’t know what to do other than go on about their business.”
“Well, either way, as long as they sit still and
don’t unass the place. I assume patrols go
missing on a regular basis.”
We took turns watching and noting routines. The only
break in the boredom was when a zombie stumbled from the tree line next to the
field. I watched it run at the workers, who kept right on working. I wondered
why they didn’t break and run, or why the guard didn’t shoot it. The Zombie
grabbed the nearest worker, who started to fight. I watched the guards gather
around the fight. The man finally
sleeping while Jacob and I kept watch. As the light slowly filtered into the
east, we all woke for stand-to, making sure no one had sneaked up on us in the
night, no Zs had stumbled into our area. We hadn’t seen one since the day
before; apparently our friends across the canal had been doing a pretty good
job of clearing them out.
Every half hour I called Valkyrie to check on Brit. Late in
the morning Major McHale came on the horn.
"Lost Boys 6, this is Valkyrie 6, your 5 element is out
of surgery. Doing OK, sedated. Will fill you in tomorrow, over." I said a silent prayer of relief and tapped my head
with the hand mike while letting out my breath. Then I gave a thumbs-up to the
rest of team. They all grinned back at me.
Feeling like I had just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson, I
went back to watching the prison.
"Are you crying, Nick?"
"Fuck you, Jonesy."
“You seem to be a little stressed, Nick. Why you
be cursing so much?”
“”I got your stress right here. I’ll be fine once
we get to shoot someone.”
As I watched through my binos, I saw a truck which had
been parked across the front gate of the prison rumble to life and roll back
across. An army LMTV, the cab chopped off and armor plate welded across the
front, pulled out and drove off down the road to the county prison. In the back
were a group of women, dressed in orange prison jumpsuits. They stopped midway
and the women, about a dozen, climbed off the back. One man with a shotgun
jumped down from the remains of the cab. They headed to a field that was
showing some corn sprouting up through the rows and started pulling weeds. The
truck continued down to the county prison and returned with two dozen more men
and women. They looked like concentration camp survivors, all skin and bones.
The original group of women looked almost healthy in comparison. I counted a
total of six guards, armed with shotguns, rifles, and M-16s. As I watched, one
of them occasionally whipped one of the workers. The truck returned to the county
jail and started making trips to the backside of the prison. I counted five
trips before the truck returned to the prison.
I handed the binos to Doc. He studied the scene for
several minutes.
“Tell me what you think, Doc.”
“OK, the first group of women you saw are the party
girls. Either voluntary or not. Fed better, not whipped so often. The others
are slaves and meat.”
“Agreed. I counted three dozen civilians in the
close field and 5 truckloads to the back fields. Make that a total of around a
hundred thirty or so. Figure they have a back entrance to let the guards out to
the back fields. Same number of guards per civilians, makes it around thirty
guards out back. No idea how many are in the prison itself but you have to
figure at least double that number. So, figure maybe a hundred cannibals.”
“Anti-American Forces.”
He snorted. “Whatever. Time to settle in and watch for a few hours. Later today we can head
over and check out the county jail. Obviously being used as a slave pen. What I
can’t figure out is they should be all stirred up by the helicopters and the gun
fire yesterday, yet here they are, acting like nothing happened. ”
“I don’t know. Then again, tough as these guys might
be locally, the heavy-duty shit might be outside their experience and they
probably don’t know what to do other than go on about their business.”
“Well, either way, as long as they sit still and
don’t unass the place. I assume patrols go
missing on a regular basis.”
We took turns watching and noting routines. The only
break in the boredom was when a zombie stumbled from the tree line next to the
field. I watched it run at the workers, who kept right on working. I wondered
why they didn’t break and run, or why the guard didn’t shoot it. The Zombie
grabbed the nearest worker, who started to fight. I watched the guards gather
around the fight. The man finally
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