Read Online Live (NOLA Zombie Book 3) by Gillian Zane - Free Book Online
Authors: Gillian Zane
Tags: Zombies & Romance
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wasn’t obvious from this set-up though.
His club was obviously running a sex slavery ring and from the look of the countertop and the various implements and powder, they were also doing a ton of drugs. I would bet money that the trailer outside was their own personal chemistry lab.
A little apocalypse meth cooking, fun for one and all . If I didn’t get the fuck out of here I might be roadkill if this place blew up in a meth-plosion, which I didn’t need to worry about on top of all the other crap. The shit just kept getting thicker.
“Girls for trade, brother. These two want food for two girls.” Spider stepped up and did some lame fist bump with the president.
“Where’d ya get these girls, boys?” Brandon directed his attention at U2.
“Off Highway 90, they were beating the crap out of each other,” he answered.
“Were they now?” he laughed, and it was actually a pretty jovial laugh for a man of his nature. I was reticent to admit that he was a rather handsome older man, even if he was obviously a supreme dick. He had a distinguished look to him that would fit well in a board room and a suit…instead of the leathers he wore.
“Why were you pretty little things beating the crap out of each other?” He looked at Clara’s leg and raised a brow.
“She was pissed ‘cause I was fucking the guy she wanted,” I said giving a pointed look in Clara’s direction, telling her clearly, “shut the fuck up, I got this.”
“And where is this guy you were fucking?” he asked.
“They’re holed up somewhere off of Chef Menteur, out near Slidell. We haven’t located them… yet . Only a few guys, but they got a lot of guns,” U2 spoke up, cutting off anything I was going to say.
“How many men?” He looked at me this time. I did a quick calculation, the trailer trash would know about maybe six of us, including me.
“Five,” I said quickly.
“They gonna come lookin’ for you two?” he asked me.
“Probably not,” I said shrugging my shoulders. “This one kinda screwed them over when we left.” I cocked my thumb at Clara who was staring big-eyed and dumb at me.
“You don’t say. They have a lot of guns, though, what we talking about?” He directed this question at U1 and U2, but I answered.
“They got some rifles off of a few dead National Guardsmen, along with a Hummer, no ammo though. Why?” I tried to make my voice shrill, higher pitched than usual, a little less assertive than my regular tone. I didn’t know if the theatrics would work, but at this point anything was better than the truth. If these guys found out we were coming from a well-fortified compound of skilled mercenaries, I might not make it through the night.
“We got that here too, probably a little more than a few, though,” he chuckled all superior. “You understand what we’re doing here, ladies? These boys here are selling you to us, that means you’ll be our property. You’ll do as we tell you, you’ll fuck who we tell you, you won’t throw a hissy because you don’t get your way. And we ain’t buying you because of your conversation skills.” He stepped up until his face was only inches from mine and I dropped my eyes to stare at my bare feet.
One, two, three, four…stay calm.
Clara was now sobbing. I was second guessing myself. Should I be crying too, playing the wilting flower? I didn’t think I could force myself to cry. I was barely restraining myself from head-butting this piece of shit.
“If you don’t perform, you’ll die. Simple. You live to serve. You fuck, we feed you. Simple. I’ll give you three cases for this one.” He stepped back and pointed at me. “One case for buckets here.” He dismissed Clara with a wave.
“Nah, that ain’t enough, Sen…uh, Brandon. That’s only two weeks of food for us.”
“They ain’t worth more than that.” Senior, whose real name must be Brandon, spit on the linoleum floor and
His club was obviously running a sex slavery ring and from the look of the countertop and the various implements and powder, they were also doing a ton of drugs. I would bet money that the trailer outside was their own personal chemistry lab.
A little apocalypse meth cooking, fun for one and all . If I didn’t get the fuck out of here I might be roadkill if this place blew up in a meth-plosion, which I didn’t need to worry about on top of all the other crap. The shit just kept getting thicker.
“Girls for trade, brother. These two want food for two girls.” Spider stepped up and did some lame fist bump with the president.
“Where’d ya get these girls, boys?” Brandon directed his attention at U2.
“Off Highway 90, they were beating the crap out of each other,” he answered.
“Were they now?” he laughed, and it was actually a pretty jovial laugh for a man of his nature. I was reticent to admit that he was a rather handsome older man, even if he was obviously a supreme dick. He had a distinguished look to him that would fit well in a board room and a suit…instead of the leathers he wore.
“Why were you pretty little things beating the crap out of each other?” He looked at Clara’s leg and raised a brow.
“She was pissed ‘cause I was fucking the guy she wanted,” I said giving a pointed look in Clara’s direction, telling her clearly, “shut the fuck up, I got this.”
“And where is this guy you were fucking?” he asked.
“They’re holed up somewhere off of Chef Menteur, out near Slidell. We haven’t located them… yet . Only a few guys, but they got a lot of guns,” U2 spoke up, cutting off anything I was going to say.
“How many men?” He looked at me this time. I did a quick calculation, the trailer trash would know about maybe six of us, including me.
“Five,” I said quickly.
“They gonna come lookin’ for you two?” he asked me.
“Probably not,” I said shrugging my shoulders. “This one kinda screwed them over when we left.” I cocked my thumb at Clara who was staring big-eyed and dumb at me.
“You don’t say. They have a lot of guns, though, what we talking about?” He directed this question at U1 and U2, but I answered.
“They got some rifles off of a few dead National Guardsmen, along with a Hummer, no ammo though. Why?” I tried to make my voice shrill, higher pitched than usual, a little less assertive than my regular tone. I didn’t know if the theatrics would work, but at this point anything was better than the truth. If these guys found out we were coming from a well-fortified compound of skilled mercenaries, I might not make it through the night.
“We got that here too, probably a little more than a few, though,” he chuckled all superior. “You understand what we’re doing here, ladies? These boys here are selling you to us, that means you’ll be our property. You’ll do as we tell you, you’ll fuck who we tell you, you won’t throw a hissy because you don’t get your way. And we ain’t buying you because of your conversation skills.” He stepped up until his face was only inches from mine and I dropped my eyes to stare at my bare feet.
One, two, three, four…stay calm.
Clara was now sobbing. I was second guessing myself. Should I be crying too, playing the wilting flower? I didn’t think I could force myself to cry. I was barely restraining myself from head-butting this piece of shit.
“If you don’t perform, you’ll die. Simple. You live to serve. You fuck, we feed you. Simple. I’ll give you three cases for this one.” He stepped back and pointed at me. “One case for buckets here.” He dismissed Clara with a wave.
“Nah, that ain’t enough, Sen…uh, Brandon. That’s only two weeks of food for us.”
“They ain’t worth more than that.” Senior, whose real name must be Brandon, spit on the linoleum floor and
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