Amongst the Dead by David Bernstein Page B

Deak?” Riley repeated, her tone demanding.  
    “Yes. Please shoot me.”  
    Riley was delighted to oblige, but saw movement from the passenger seat. Bending lower, she saw another man in the car. His left arm was missing, severed above the elbow, and half his face was gone—jaw bone and eye socket revealed. Now she understood why Deak’s body was jerking. His undead companion—fellow murderer—was grabbing and tearing pieces of his flesh, eating him. The man had turned undead quickly, having only died minutes ago. The undead passenger’s face disappeared into Deak’s side. Riley could hear moist chewing sounds as flesh was ripped away.  
    “Please…” the driver begged again.  
    It wasn’t proper to leave zombies alive, to be able to wander and infect others, but the man was getting his due. She could only hope he lived long enough to suffer greatly, hoping his friend was trapped somewhere in the undead thing’s body, horrified at eating his buddy.  
    She walked toward the rear of the truck, opening the hatch. Another zombie, the man who had been wielding the rocket launcher, lay inside. The thing sprung at her, its body not in too bad a condition.  
    Riley, caught off guard, stumbled backward, her gun going off. The zombie crawled out. She saw that it wasn’t in as great a condition as she’d first thought. Its head was partially caved in and a large buck knife was protruding from its neck. The man must’ve fallen onto it when the truck crashed. It appeared like the guy had just missed dying properly; if only the blade had gone into his head.  
    With the zombie standing over her, looking down with vacant but horrifying eyes, she righted herself, pointing the rifle up and blowing the thing’s brains out of the back of its head. She rolled left and out of the way as the lifeless corpse tumbled to the ground.  
    She checked the rest of the vehicle, finding no more surprises except for a small arsenal of weapons and ammo. She had her rifle and plenty of bullets, so she decided to leave the machine guns. She grabbed two identical handguns—Sig Sauers—four boxes of ammo, and a first aid kit. She also found four grenades, pocketing them as well.  
    Heading past the man in the driver’s seat on her way back to the car, she saw that he was still very much alive. Not wanting to become a monster, needing to hold onto what little compassion she still had for humans, Riley pulled a book of matches from her pocket. Not wanting to waste a single match, but needing to, she ignited it and tossed it to the gasoline-flooded ground. The area around the SUV roared into flames, the truck catching fire quickly. The man inside the SUV began screaming as she hurried away. A few minutes later the truck exploded. Riley never looked back.  

Chapter Six  
    A Fresh Start
    Riley finished rummaging through the car, gathering a flashlight, matches, a small bottle of lighter fluid, a knife and food. She of course took her rifle—the weapon like a trusted sibling—and equipped herself with plenty of ammo before beginning her long trek down the road.  
    It began raining an hour into the trip. She’d forgotten the parka back at the car; it was too far to go back for it now.  
    The walk seemed endless, but she kept on until nightfall, the rain lasting a few hours. Soaked and shivering, she camped in the woods about twenty feet from the road. She should have traveled farther in, but was too weak and worn out.  
    Using some paper, lighter fluid and a couple of the driest logs she could find, Riley made a meek fire. The wood was somewhat damp, hissing like a small steam engine. She shed her clothes from her body, hanging them on a tree branch over the fire while staying close to keep warm. An hour into the night and the rain started up again, the downpour heavy at times. The fire was quickly extinguished and Riley’s clothes were drenched again. She managed to eat a little and nod off under a densely bristled pine tree.