Read Online Nightmare of the Dead: Rise of the Zombies by Vincenzo Bilof - Free Book Online
Authors: Vincenzo Bilof
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to see us there. Didn't take too kindly to strangers, see. We had on blue jackets, and they were none too kind to us. Everyone's loyal to Davis down here in this swamp-hole.
"Every man got a bullet in Cedar Rock. The children…Santiago did that himself. As for the women, well, forgive me, ma'am…"
"Go on. You've been rambling long enough. Finish the story."
"He said there were no innocents in a war. Everybody fights, and anybody can die. Women get something else; they're the spoils, for a little while, anyway. We're supposed to take what there is. I took. Would have shot me down if I didn't. You see, I had no choice…"
"There's always a choice."
"Not like you think. You can't always see his eyes. It's like they become black, or sometimes they become white, but he's always looking inside of you. I did what I did because I feared him. With the children, he… had to be the one to do it. It was as if there was no other course, as if it was something he simply needed to do. Like it was his job."
"You should have killed him. You knew what he would do. A man with morals would have taken a shot at him."
"Your memory… is it true what Santiago said?"
She began to grow suspicious. Who was he, really? How could she trust him? Here was a man who'd raped and pillaged alongside a band of outlaws, and he wanted sympathy from her? He was attempting to disarm her guard, but he could still be useful. It was, after all, the reason why she decided to drag him out of Cedar Rock.
The silence was allowed to swallow his question. They listened closely for a few moments. She wrapped her arms around his heavy shoulders to keep the guns out of the water.
"Don’t get ahead of yourself," she said. "We could be here for a while. You should turn around and put your arm around me. Can't get our guns wet."
He turned around and they embraced one another . Her toes curled into the mud beneath her feet. A glimpse of moonlight revealed a spider scampering over McPhee's pale shoulder.
"Why didn't we become one of them?" McPhee had to ask.
"No clue," she replied. "Santiago didn't turn, either. Tell me what you know about the Nightmare Collective."
"Not much. Their chief is over in Europe, from what I can tell. The doctor, Lynch, carts his invalid mother around in a wheelchair. She was in some kind of accident, but she used to be one of the top people in the group. They're a bunch of assassins with political goals. Lynch's not included in the group, but he wants to be, real bad. Whatever he's working on is supposed to be his ticket in."
A sudden crash through the thicket ended their conversation. They waited and listened to something with a heavy gait stalk through the swamp. Water splashed and the little creatures tittered. Bannan could feel McPhee's entire body throb with racing blood. She ground her teeth together and waited.
Years seemed to pass. Her forearms were stuck to McPhee's sweat-slick shoulders. If she knew they passed, she could work up the courage to chase them down and kill them, one by one. Even in the complete darkness, she had to believe their senses weren't enhanced, and she could stand a fighting chance against them. It was better than waiting to die.
"We're going to die here," McPhee whispered in her ear. A rush of warmth flooded the water around her legs.
She shouldn't be so concerned with this loser. He'd raped and murdered innocent people, and he'd demonstrated nothing short of cowardice. She'd learned as much as she could from him, which was next to nothing. How long could she put up with him? He presented more of a risk to her own safety. How good would he be if they were forced to fight those creatures?
Her alert eyes continued to scan the dark, shadowy brush around her. An extended silence reigned over the night. Even the swamp minions seemed to cower in the wake of some terrible power.
Bannan's mind raced. It was very possible they could contract a disease while they waded in the swamp water. The creatures
"Every man got a bullet in Cedar Rock. The children…Santiago did that himself. As for the women, well, forgive me, ma'am…"
"Go on. You've been rambling long enough. Finish the story."
"He said there were no innocents in a war. Everybody fights, and anybody can die. Women get something else; they're the spoils, for a little while, anyway. We're supposed to take what there is. I took. Would have shot me down if I didn't. You see, I had no choice…"
"There's always a choice."
"Not like you think. You can't always see his eyes. It's like they become black, or sometimes they become white, but he's always looking inside of you. I did what I did because I feared him. With the children, he… had to be the one to do it. It was as if there was no other course, as if it was something he simply needed to do. Like it was his job."
"You should have killed him. You knew what he would do. A man with morals would have taken a shot at him."
"Your memory… is it true what Santiago said?"
She began to grow suspicious. Who was he, really? How could she trust him? Here was a man who'd raped and pillaged alongside a band of outlaws, and he wanted sympathy from her? He was attempting to disarm her guard, but he could still be useful. It was, after all, the reason why she decided to drag him out of Cedar Rock.
The silence was allowed to swallow his question. They listened closely for a few moments. She wrapped her arms around his heavy shoulders to keep the guns out of the water.
"Don’t get ahead of yourself," she said. "We could be here for a while. You should turn around and put your arm around me. Can't get our guns wet."
He turned around and they embraced one another . Her toes curled into the mud beneath her feet. A glimpse of moonlight revealed a spider scampering over McPhee's pale shoulder.
"Why didn't we become one of them?" McPhee had to ask.
"No clue," she replied. "Santiago didn't turn, either. Tell me what you know about the Nightmare Collective."
"Not much. Their chief is over in Europe, from what I can tell. The doctor, Lynch, carts his invalid mother around in a wheelchair. She was in some kind of accident, but she used to be one of the top people in the group. They're a bunch of assassins with political goals. Lynch's not included in the group, but he wants to be, real bad. Whatever he's working on is supposed to be his ticket in."
A sudden crash through the thicket ended their conversation. They waited and listened to something with a heavy gait stalk through the swamp. Water splashed and the little creatures tittered. Bannan could feel McPhee's entire body throb with racing blood. She ground her teeth together and waited.
Years seemed to pass. Her forearms were stuck to McPhee's sweat-slick shoulders. If she knew they passed, she could work up the courage to chase them down and kill them, one by one. Even in the complete darkness, she had to believe their senses weren't enhanced, and she could stand a fighting chance against them. It was better than waiting to die.
"We're going to die here," McPhee whispered in her ear. A rush of warmth flooded the water around her legs.
She shouldn't be so concerned with this loser. He'd raped and murdered innocent people, and he'd demonstrated nothing short of cowardice. She'd learned as much as she could from him, which was next to nothing. How long could she put up with him? He presented more of a risk to her own safety. How good would he be if they were forced to fight those creatures?
Her alert eyes continued to scan the dark, shadowy brush around her. An extended silence reigned over the night. Even the swamp minions seemed to cower in the wake of some terrible power.
Bannan's mind raced. It was very possible they could contract a disease while they waded in the swamp water. The creatures
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