Read Online Z-Risen (Book 3): Poisoned Earth by Timothy W. Long - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Timothy W. Long
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
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the shuffler landed. He lashed out with his foot, but the shuffler was already moving. I wanted to rush to help, but there was an army of Zs to deal with.
I did my best to keep my cool as four of the bastards closed in on me. They weren’t fast, not by a long shot, and each sported wounds. One was missing most of an arm, so I automatically labeled him as less of a threat. I went for the fastest one first, shooting him in the head. The chamber slammed back, waiting for me to reload, but I didn’t have a fresh mag, so I dropped the gun back in its holster.
Taking up a slugger’s stance, I knocked down one of the Zs, but there were still two to contend with, and they were already on me.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of Joel. He slammed the shuffler in the side of the head with the butt of his rifle and then spun, dropped low, and took another one in the gut. His motions were timed and well-delivered.
I pushed one back into the other and swung, but missed and hit his arm. The Z didn’t react to the blow--something that would have made a normal man scream in pain. The second Z was faster than I’d anticipated and moved on me. She was middle-aged, with grey-streaked hair that stuck up from a short haircut and a bunch of hair products consisting of blood and zombie goo.
She hit me hard, pushing my much larger frame into the wall. I levered myself forward by kicking back with my good leg. She fell back, but her arms came up in the classic zombie pose.
Joel was surrounded and fighting for his life. The shuffler had backed away, but I could tell he was preparing to leap.
I didn’t have time for dealing with this Z. Instead of fighting her, I spun her around, picked her up, and barreled through the other zombie. The stinkbeast in my arms was so foul it made me want to projectile vomit for about an hour. Her arms were covered in wounds, and she leaked from pretty much everywhere.
The shuffler turned his rabid green eyes on me and snarled. I didn’t give him a chance to leap, lifting the moaning zombie in my arms, and slamming into him.
He was skinny as a rail and his hair was long and lank. He’d been low to the ground, on all fours. The three of us rolled around--tussling, I guess you’d call it, although I also thought of it later as fighting for my life.
I drove my knee into the shuffler’s stomach, but he was quick as a whip. His hands lashed out over and over, striking at me. I got my arms up to protect my face and batted his hands aside. The Z I’d used for a battering ram rolled over and struggled to get up.
I took a blow to the head, from the shuffler, but exchanged my protection for a strike. I threw from the shoulder, something I’d done many times, and smashed the shuffler in the face. His nose exploded from the blow and his head smashed into the ground. This gave me enough of a breather to strike him again, but he got his head to the side, so I only struck his ear.
The other Z managed to get to her feet and attack. Why she went after me when Joel was busy fighting off three Zs was weird. Was she holding a grudge, or was this stupid shuffler using some odd mental telepathy, or some kind of unspoken language?
Joel was surrounded, but went for his sidearm. He drew and fired and then clicked on empty. The Z he’d shot fell away but was still moving.
The woman I’d used as a battering ram got on her hands and feet and then lunged for me. I was bowled over, and away from the shuffler. I wasn’t just mad that she hit me; I’d had the damn shuffler right under me, and a chance to kill him. Now he was free.
The breath rushed out of my body as I struck the ground. I tried to roll into it, but with my legs busted up it was a shock I wasn’t knocked flat.
The Z grabbed me, so I grabbed her back and pushed her down. The shuffler hit me hard enough to make my head spin, and then leapt.
Joel backed up and tugged his knife. Jesus Christ! We were getting our asses kicked here.
I was just about
I did my best to keep my cool as four of the bastards closed in on me. They weren’t fast, not by a long shot, and each sported wounds. One was missing most of an arm, so I automatically labeled him as less of a threat. I went for the fastest one first, shooting him in the head. The chamber slammed back, waiting for me to reload, but I didn’t have a fresh mag, so I dropped the gun back in its holster.
Taking up a slugger’s stance, I knocked down one of the Zs, but there were still two to contend with, and they were already on me.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of Joel. He slammed the shuffler in the side of the head with the butt of his rifle and then spun, dropped low, and took another one in the gut. His motions were timed and well-delivered.
I pushed one back into the other and swung, but missed and hit his arm. The Z didn’t react to the blow--something that would have made a normal man scream in pain. The second Z was faster than I’d anticipated and moved on me. She was middle-aged, with grey-streaked hair that stuck up from a short haircut and a bunch of hair products consisting of blood and zombie goo.
She hit me hard, pushing my much larger frame into the wall. I levered myself forward by kicking back with my good leg. She fell back, but her arms came up in the classic zombie pose.
Joel was surrounded and fighting for his life. The shuffler had backed away, but I could tell he was preparing to leap.
I didn’t have time for dealing with this Z. Instead of fighting her, I spun her around, picked her up, and barreled through the other zombie. The stinkbeast in my arms was so foul it made me want to projectile vomit for about an hour. Her arms were covered in wounds, and she leaked from pretty much everywhere.
The shuffler turned his rabid green eyes on me and snarled. I didn’t give him a chance to leap, lifting the moaning zombie in my arms, and slamming into him.
He was skinny as a rail and his hair was long and lank. He’d been low to the ground, on all fours. The three of us rolled around--tussling, I guess you’d call it, although I also thought of it later as fighting for my life.
I drove my knee into the shuffler’s stomach, but he was quick as a whip. His hands lashed out over and over, striking at me. I got my arms up to protect my face and batted his hands aside. The Z I’d used for a battering ram rolled over and struggled to get up.
I took a blow to the head, from the shuffler, but exchanged my protection for a strike. I threw from the shoulder, something I’d done many times, and smashed the shuffler in the face. His nose exploded from the blow and his head smashed into the ground. This gave me enough of a breather to strike him again, but he got his head to the side, so I only struck his ear.
The other Z managed to get to her feet and attack. Why she went after me when Joel was busy fighting off three Zs was weird. Was she holding a grudge, or was this stupid shuffler using some odd mental telepathy, or some kind of unspoken language?
Joel was surrounded, but went for his sidearm. He drew and fired and then clicked on empty. The Z he’d shot fell away but was still moving.
The woman I’d used as a battering ram got on her hands and feet and then lunged for me. I was bowled over, and away from the shuffler. I wasn’t just mad that she hit me; I’d had the damn shuffler right under me, and a chance to kill him. Now he was free.
The breath rushed out of my body as I struck the ground. I tried to roll into it, but with my legs busted up it was a shock I wasn’t knocked flat.
The Z grabbed me, so I grabbed her back and pushed her down. The shuffler hit me hard enough to make my head spin, and then leapt.
Joel backed up and tugged his knife. Jesus Christ! We were getting our asses kicked here.
I was just about
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