Read Online Zombified (Episode 3): Garden Harbor by Matt Di Spirito - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Matt Di Spirito
Tags: Zombies
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climbed into the passenger seat, letting Roger handle the driving.
"Head for the coffee shop that Matty mentioned," said Joey. "We're gonna need to see about replacing this thing—preferably with something that can go off-road."
A one-armed zombie bounced off the passenger door as they tore through the burning hole amid the cars; a score more fell in behind the van, giving chase and growling in frustration as the food escaped down the road.
"If the ones in Wooney were starving, I wonder if anyone is left alive there." Matty only had a handful of friends and family in the state, but his thoughts wandered to all the children, elderly, and other folks without the means to defend themselves.
"Escaped or dead would be my guess," Roger said. "Any idea how long it takes for these things to starve?"
"The ones around my house hadn't eaten for a week, at least," said Joey; "maybe two or three, if the rest of Wooneyville was toast."
Roger pursed his lips. "On the surface, it doesn't sound all that different from a regular person going without food—aside from the type of food, of course."
"Sugar lips, hold the fruit teeth," Geoff blurted in his sleep.
They passed a faded green sign that read "Welcome to Garden Harbor". Below the words floated a tree surrounded by water.
"The shop should be about a mile ahead," Matty said, gesturing out the front window; "it looks like a log cabin and there's a big roasted coffee bean on the roof."
"I take it you like coffee." Roger smiled. "I could use a cup myself."
"Or three," Matty added. "I've had a constant headache for a week. I thought it would go away, or at least diminish, but the jackhammer goes on."
"I guess you really liked coffee. Let me guess, a pot a day habit?"
Matty nodded. "One pot of coffee, one pack of smokes—but I'm not fiending for a smoke anymore."
"There it is." Joey leaned forward in the seat. "It looks quiet from the outside."
"I see a few cars in the lot, too." Roger turned off the road and approached the shop at a crawl. "We won't have much more than an hour if the zombies are still following us. I'd keep it under thirty minutes, if possible."
"Roger, you and Dana keep the van running and keep an eye on sleepy back there." Joey thumbed over one shoulder. "Me and Matty are going in—honk if any deadheads show up."
Pistols in hand, Joey and Matty hopped out of the van and climbed the stairs to the front; the screen was torn off, but the interior door remained intact.
"After you." Matty bowed and swept an arm toward the door.
Joey took a step back and then planted a boot into the door, busting the handle latch and splintering the wood frame. "Knock, knock!" Joey stepped inside, gun raised.
The smell of coffee gripped Matty's nostrils and sent a caffeine-fueled fire racing through every neuron. His fingertips and toenails tingled and warm, erotic sensations crept up his thighs: he sighed and a shiver sent his limbs twitching.
"Are you shittin' me?" Joey frowned. "It's that bad?"
"Dude, I might need a cold shower." Matty blinked and tried to shake off the mounting desire to raid the beans.
"That's just sad."
After checking the storage areas and finding the rear door locked, they returned to the van and reported the rare stroke of luck.
"If you can hold the fort, Roger, Dana and Matty are going to ferry supplies out." Joey leaned in the passenger window. "I'm gonna see a man about some wheels."
"So far, so good," said Roger. "Sleeping beauty is still… well, sleeping, and I haven't heard or seen a single zombie yet."
Joey glanced down the road and scanned the surrounding trees. "Yeah, that worries me a little bit. I'm startin' to think these fuckers are gonna pop out all at once."
"Get moving before they do," said Roger.
Joey trotted off, heading for three vehicles parked on the west side of the building.
Matty and Dana returned to the building interior, rummaging through food and drinks and
"Head for the coffee shop that Matty mentioned," said Joey. "We're gonna need to see about replacing this thing—preferably with something that can go off-road."
A one-armed zombie bounced off the passenger door as they tore through the burning hole amid the cars; a score more fell in behind the van, giving chase and growling in frustration as the food escaped down the road.
"If the ones in Wooney were starving, I wonder if anyone is left alive there." Matty only had a handful of friends and family in the state, but his thoughts wandered to all the children, elderly, and other folks without the means to defend themselves.
"Escaped or dead would be my guess," Roger said. "Any idea how long it takes for these things to starve?"
"The ones around my house hadn't eaten for a week, at least," said Joey; "maybe two or three, if the rest of Wooneyville was toast."
Roger pursed his lips. "On the surface, it doesn't sound all that different from a regular person going without food—aside from the type of food, of course."
"Sugar lips, hold the fruit teeth," Geoff blurted in his sleep.
They passed a faded green sign that read "Welcome to Garden Harbor". Below the words floated a tree surrounded by water.
"The shop should be about a mile ahead," Matty said, gesturing out the front window; "it looks like a log cabin and there's a big roasted coffee bean on the roof."
"I take it you like coffee." Roger smiled. "I could use a cup myself."
"Or three," Matty added. "I've had a constant headache for a week. I thought it would go away, or at least diminish, but the jackhammer goes on."
"I guess you really liked coffee. Let me guess, a pot a day habit?"
Matty nodded. "One pot of coffee, one pack of smokes—but I'm not fiending for a smoke anymore."
"There it is." Joey leaned forward in the seat. "It looks quiet from the outside."
"I see a few cars in the lot, too." Roger turned off the road and approached the shop at a crawl. "We won't have much more than an hour if the zombies are still following us. I'd keep it under thirty minutes, if possible."
"Roger, you and Dana keep the van running and keep an eye on sleepy back there." Joey thumbed over one shoulder. "Me and Matty are going in—honk if any deadheads show up."
Pistols in hand, Joey and Matty hopped out of the van and climbed the stairs to the front; the screen was torn off, but the interior door remained intact.
"After you." Matty bowed and swept an arm toward the door.
Joey took a step back and then planted a boot into the door, busting the handle latch and splintering the wood frame. "Knock, knock!" Joey stepped inside, gun raised.
The smell of coffee gripped Matty's nostrils and sent a caffeine-fueled fire racing through every neuron. His fingertips and toenails tingled and warm, erotic sensations crept up his thighs: he sighed and a shiver sent his limbs twitching.
"Are you shittin' me?" Joey frowned. "It's that bad?"
"Dude, I might need a cold shower." Matty blinked and tried to shake off the mounting desire to raid the beans.
"That's just sad."
After checking the storage areas and finding the rear door locked, they returned to the van and reported the rare stroke of luck.
"If you can hold the fort, Roger, Dana and Matty are going to ferry supplies out." Joey leaned in the passenger window. "I'm gonna see a man about some wheels."
"So far, so good," said Roger. "Sleeping beauty is still… well, sleeping, and I haven't heard or seen a single zombie yet."
Joey glanced down the road and scanned the surrounding trees. "Yeah, that worries me a little bit. I'm startin' to think these fuckers are gonna pop out all at once."
"Get moving before they do," said Roger.
Joey trotted off, heading for three vehicles parked on the west side of the building.
Matty and Dana returned to the building interior, rummaging through food and drinks and
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