Books of the Dead (Book 3): Dead Man's Land by R.J. Spears Page B

scene. The zombies weren’t alone.  A spray of bullets came from somewhere in front of the burning truck and tore into it, sending pieces of safety glass into the air like a shower of glittering jewels.  
    Russell watched in horror as the zombies approached. 
    “Those are the controlled zombies,” Travis said, his voice rising with each word.
    “What?” Brandon asked.
    “Look at the wires on the sides of their heads,” Travis said pointing toward the zombies.  “They use some sort of device to control them”.
    “What does that mean?” Brandon asked.
    “That means the guy who controls zombies is still alive.”
    Russell scanned the scene for any sign of Paige. Through the smoke from the burning truck, he saw someone moving and immediately recognized Paige as she stood and fired down the road through the flames. 
    Brandon slammed the brakes, sending everyone in the truck forward as the truck’s tires smoked to a stop. Russell grabbed for his door handle, but Brandon pulled him back.
    “Not so fast,” Brandon shouted.
    “But Paige is down there,” Russell said.
    “You won’t do her any good rushing down there,” Travis said, leaning over the back seat.
    “We need to know what’s going on first.”
    “There’s no time to plan,” Russell said, trying to pull away, but Brandon held him fast.
    Russell tried to pull away, but Brandon jerked him across the seat and said, “We don’t need to put it on paper, but we’re not rushing in there. Got it?”
              Russell tried to yank away again, but gave in when Brandon refused to let go and he slumped back against his seat.
     
    “We’ve got another vehicle on the scene,” Rex said over the walkie-talkie.  As predicted, Rex and his team had arrived too late to intercept the initial truck, but the camouflaged set of spikes Anthony had set in the street had worked to perfection, taking out the tires of the intruder’s truck.  When the bus arrived on the scene, they saw the truck sitting in the center of the street like a beached whale. 
    Three people, all with rifles, stood outside their vehicle, assessing the damage.  A man with bushy hair sat in the driver’s seat, nervously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. The woman was tall and leggy with dirty blond hair.  She looked like a cat about to jump in the air at the slightest of provocations.  Of the two men outside the truck, one was a stubby little guy wearing a ball cap, and the other was big and broad, with a thick black beard and mustache reminding Rex of a wrestler.  Rex sensed that if one of them meant trouble, it would be the big one.
    They reacted almost immediately when the bus eased onto the scene, pulling their rifles out and taking defensive postures beside the truck.  From his view from the bus, Rex noticed that the women looked the most afraid while the men seemed more perplexed. They had no idea what was about to come down on them, and Rex liked that. 
    He quickly put his team into action, pinning down the intruders with some well-spaced shots from their assault rifles. The man with the beard took a chance and ran to the side of the street for cover. The woman with dirty blond hair fired immediately on the bus, peppering it with bullets.  Roy returned fire, and she was forced to find cover behind the truck. The driver ducked down in the front seat.
    Too bad for him , Rex thought as he pulled out his rocket propelled grenade launcher.  Anthony’s toy box was filled with all sorts of surprises.
    As Rex aimed the RPG, the woman recognized just how much trouble she was in and sprinted away from the truck. The stubby little man waddled behind the truck for all the good that would do him.
    Rex pulled the trigger, and a split second later, the truck exploded into a ball of flame, sending pieces of metal in every direction. The man inside was toast.  Blackened and burnt toast barely good for eating, but the zombies didn’t care. They’d eat almost