Dead Drunk II: Dawn of the Deadbeats (Dead Drunk: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse... One Beer at a Time Book 2) by Richard Johnson Page A

“We’d better have at it, though. The quicker we get there the
quicker we get back and get rested up. Then we can go home. I can’t wait to see
Brooke and Brandon. And what’s this I heard about Rob getting a kiss from
Kate?” Rob’s face reddened at the mention of it. “She sticks a knife in my neck
and kisses you, huh? Nice.”
    With the
banter done, the men geared up and stopped by to check on Left-Nut, who was
being tended to by the younger nun that seemed to be everywhere. She was
dabbing at his oozing wound while he made obnoxious gestures where she couldn’t
see.
    “We’re
leaving to find you meds,” Charlie said, not amused. “We’ll be back in a few
hours. I told that Sam kid to shoot you if you start acting up. I think he
will.”
    “Can you
refill my Viagra prescription while you’re there?”
    Charlie was
even less amused. “I swear, the one difference between you and a bag of crap is
the bag. Anyways, we don’t have time to chitchat. We’ll be back.”
    “Guys,
thanks,” Left-Nut said, dropping his shtick for once and surprising even
himself. Then he smiled a toothy grin as the shapely nun started up with a
sponge once more. “Soooo… tell me about your horribly disfigured face.” He
still had it.
     
     
    *                      
*                      
*
     
     
    Every step
Charlie took through the forest pissed him off more than the one before. Here
he was, risking his life for someone he almost threw to the zombies days
earlier. Even worse, his goal of reuniting with his pregnant girlfriend was
being put on the backburner indefinitely. Being the good guy was getting old
fast.
    Rob shook the
forest with one of his signature farts and his eyes grew wide. “Woops. I should
have held that one in a little longer to ripen.”
    “Damn, that’s
gonna itch when it dries,” Smokey said.
    Rob nodded.
“Yeah, I better grab some leaves.”
    Charlie
chuckled at his friends and his mood improved considerably while Big Rob
disappeared behind some foliage. Sometimes it helped to laugh at the ridiculous
parts of life. With these guys there was plenty of material.
    “Fellas,
you’re gonna want to see this,” Rob said from the bushes.
    “I highly
doubt that,” Charlie shot back. “Wipe your bunghole and let’s go.”
    “No, I mean
really, come check it out,” Rob said with more urgency in his voice. Sure
enough, he’d discovered a small clearing that held a gruesome discovery.
    Smokey peeked
around Rob. “Bummer.”
    In front of
them was a mass grave with bodies in differing states of decay. The fallen
residents of Biggsburg had been covered with quicklime in a failed attempt to
dissolve the corpses. Some had faces frozen in terror with mouths open in
silent screams, a testament to how horrible their final moments had been. Even
creepier were the ones that looked like they might still be among the living,
with eyes glistening and lifelike. One of those fresh bodies was wearing a Boy
Scout uniform and knee-high socks. Charlie pointed to the man and sighed.
    “It looks
like Scout Leader Frank didn’t make it after all. Should we tell Sam?
Personally, I’d say—”
    There was
movement on the other side of the grave and the guys were forced to freeze in
place to avoid being spotted.
    Several weary
Chinese soldiers came through the clearing, pushing wheelbarrows heavily laden
with even more bodies. One soldier in green seemed to be supervising four other
men dressed in slightly different brown uniforms. He barked an order and the
soldiers tossed the bodies into the pit. The tangle of limbs and torsos, bloody
stumps and burnt skin was as disgusting as it was tragic. Each body took with
it a story never to be told, and represented a final insult for the poor souls
consumed by a chain of events far removed from the little town in the middle of
nowhere.
    Their grim
task finished, the leader shouted again and the men lined up on the edge of the
pile,