Read Online Loose Ends: A Zombie Novel by Jay Wilburn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jay Wilburn
Tags: Zombies
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like it is crappy with a strong chance of being eaten by your long dead relatives.”
Doc set it on top of the roof of the ruined, muscle car.
Short said, “Yeah, I don’t think that’s how those worked, Doc.”
Doc said, “Would be better if it was.”
Short stopped at the next Ford. The trunk was wedged slightly open and askew from the bent fenders over the flat and rotten tires. Piss on Free Soil was painted on the side in black. The Ford’s trunk was gritty on top, but wasn’t rusted. He tapped it with his knuckle and nodded.
He snuffed his cigarette out on the roof of the Ford and then stamped it in the grass a couple times under his foot.
They went after the exposed bolts on the bent hinges behind the Ford’s intact back window. At first it looked like it was hopeless. They used a file to grind down the corrosion around the edges and then managed to get them loose. One snapped into three pieces and fell into the trunk. That was fine since they didn’t plan to put it back.
They pulled twice and got it loose from the body of the car. As they lifted it off the open trunk space, two heads lashed out and struck at their hands. The teeth missed them by inches and they dropped the trunk lid in fear. It hit the bumper and tore it off the car as it fell to the grass.
Doc picked up his aluminum shaft and tool bag screaming. Chef and I could see them and hear them. We came running. Chef had the rifle and I was carrying a pipe.
Short screamed too and grabbed up the machete. He hacked away at the trunk cutting through their necks and into the brittle lining and the deflated rubber of the spare tire. A few fell out on to the ground and Doc ran back stamping on their skulls. A couple slithered away under the other cars.
They were done by the time we got there.
“My God, how many were there?” Doc yelled dropping his bag and pole and rubbing his hands over his shirt even though he had no blood on them.
“There had to be twenty,” Short said staring into the trunk as he flipped the trunk lid over to look at the underside. “Yes, this will work perfectly.”
Doc wasn’t ready to move on to another subject. “Holy Moses, I wished it had been a trunk load of zombies instead.”
“Were those coral snakes?” Chef asked looking at the bodies.
There were multi-colored rings down their skin.
Short answered, “No, these are king snakes or milk snakes. I don’t know my snakes very well. Red doesn’t touch yellow. Scarlet snakes?”
Chef said, “I didn’t know they would make a pit like that in a car.”
“Neither did I. I thought they ate each other in groups actually,” Short said as he piled the snake bodies on the overturned lid.
“There’s a lot of that going around,” Chef said.
“What are you doing?” Doc asked.
Short stood up and looked at us. “Looks like our Kermit challenge just became … I don’t know any famous snake names. The Devil, I guess.”
“Really?” Chef asked. “We are cooking snake on a Ford trunk lid?”
Doc ran his hands back through his hair.
Doc said, “I’ve had snake before, Chef. I don’t think it’s been this fresh, but it’s good if you can cook it where it’s not rubbery. I would have been fine with a trunk full of frogs.”
It turns out Chef didn’t pack light either. He had loaded down the cargo area with bottles, spices, utensils, and other ingredients.
I went with Doc into the woods to gather wood. We didn’t go far and he kept looking around the ground as he picked up pieces. I think he was more concerned with snakes than zombies.
The trunk heated well once we gathered wood and got a fire going. The chunks and strips of snake sizzled in the oil and basted in the sauces and spices that each cook added. It was different.
Doc mumbled, “Protect me, Lord, from the false and fallen. Keep me safe from the serpent’s touch. Bring me safe to Abraham’s bosom. Let my dish taste better than theirs on the other shore.”
I wasn’t familiar
Doc set it on top of the roof of the ruined, muscle car.
Short said, “Yeah, I don’t think that’s how those worked, Doc.”
Doc said, “Would be better if it was.”
Short stopped at the next Ford. The trunk was wedged slightly open and askew from the bent fenders over the flat and rotten tires. Piss on Free Soil was painted on the side in black. The Ford’s trunk was gritty on top, but wasn’t rusted. He tapped it with his knuckle and nodded.
He snuffed his cigarette out on the roof of the Ford and then stamped it in the grass a couple times under his foot.
They went after the exposed bolts on the bent hinges behind the Ford’s intact back window. At first it looked like it was hopeless. They used a file to grind down the corrosion around the edges and then managed to get them loose. One snapped into three pieces and fell into the trunk. That was fine since they didn’t plan to put it back.
They pulled twice and got it loose from the body of the car. As they lifted it off the open trunk space, two heads lashed out and struck at their hands. The teeth missed them by inches and they dropped the trunk lid in fear. It hit the bumper and tore it off the car as it fell to the grass.
Doc picked up his aluminum shaft and tool bag screaming. Chef and I could see them and hear them. We came running. Chef had the rifle and I was carrying a pipe.
Short screamed too and grabbed up the machete. He hacked away at the trunk cutting through their necks and into the brittle lining and the deflated rubber of the spare tire. A few fell out on to the ground and Doc ran back stamping on their skulls. A couple slithered away under the other cars.
They were done by the time we got there.
“My God, how many were there?” Doc yelled dropping his bag and pole and rubbing his hands over his shirt even though he had no blood on them.
“There had to be twenty,” Short said staring into the trunk as he flipped the trunk lid over to look at the underside. “Yes, this will work perfectly.”
Doc wasn’t ready to move on to another subject. “Holy Moses, I wished it had been a trunk load of zombies instead.”
“Were those coral snakes?” Chef asked looking at the bodies.
There were multi-colored rings down their skin.
Short answered, “No, these are king snakes or milk snakes. I don’t know my snakes very well. Red doesn’t touch yellow. Scarlet snakes?”
Chef said, “I didn’t know they would make a pit like that in a car.”
“Neither did I. I thought they ate each other in groups actually,” Short said as he piled the snake bodies on the overturned lid.
“There’s a lot of that going around,” Chef said.
“What are you doing?” Doc asked.
Short stood up and looked at us. “Looks like our Kermit challenge just became … I don’t know any famous snake names. The Devil, I guess.”
“Really?” Chef asked. “We are cooking snake on a Ford trunk lid?”
Doc ran his hands back through his hair.
Doc said, “I’ve had snake before, Chef. I don’t think it’s been this fresh, but it’s good if you can cook it where it’s not rubbery. I would have been fine with a trunk full of frogs.”
It turns out Chef didn’t pack light either. He had loaded down the cargo area with bottles, spices, utensils, and other ingredients.
I went with Doc into the woods to gather wood. We didn’t go far and he kept looking around the ground as he picked up pieces. I think he was more concerned with snakes than zombies.
The trunk heated well once we gathered wood and got a fire going. The chunks and strips of snake sizzled in the oil and basted in the sauces and spices that each cook added. It was different.
Doc mumbled, “Protect me, Lord, from the false and fallen. Keep me safe from the serpent’s touch. Bring me safe to Abraham’s bosom. Let my dish taste better than theirs on the other shore.”
I wasn’t familiar
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