OUTNUMBERED (Book 5) by Robert Schobernd Page A

great place for evil to lurk with its hungry maw open, waiting for us to step inside and be swallowed. We couldn't let that happen.
    "Stay alert." I stepped forward first and stopped several feet into the dim light. Kira and Mitch breeched the opening before Kira sidestepped to place her back to the wall. A sudden movement in the gloom to my left along the stalls grabbed my attention. On instinct alone, I reacted as a form materialized and took shape. As I closed on her, Kira saw where my attention was focused, tensed, and turned her rifle barrel. The three of us converged at once. Kira's rifle barrel was knocked downward by flailing arms. Rhonda's snarling face and bared teeth threatened as the end of my gun barrel jammed into her body beneath her ribcage. I pulled the trigger as the barrel dug deeper and kept firing. By brute strength alone, I held her at arms length from my wife.
    A loud, deafening screech from behind me threw me into shock for an instant. Rhonda made a high-pitched scream as her hands stopped trying to clutch Kira. Kira's right arm rose, and her Glock fired at nearly point-blank range into Rhonda's chest. One, two, three, four muzzle flashes burned against Rhonda's skin and mutilated clothing. The monster that had been our friend had her hands over her ears as she stopped struggling. I forced Rhonda away from Kira, and she collapsed to the dirt floor in a bloody heap. The irritating noise finally stopped.
    I grabbed Kira and dragged her outside into the dim light where I could examine her. "Are you okay? Did she get to you?" I didn't see any scratches on her face, then looked to her jacket and leather gloves. They were intact. I let out a huge sigh of relief and hugged her tightly.
    She smiled weakly. "I'm okay, I think. There's no pain." She turned to Mitch and smiled at him as he stood with his hand still on the aerosol safety horn on his belt. She rushed to him and hugged him tight and sobbed, "Thank you, thank you."
    The three of us were on high alert as we walked toward the houses. I keyed the radio. "We got number fourteen. It was Rhonda."
    Glen came back over the radio. "We found number fifteen in a closet inside the main house. The panels in the door were broken. It appears Nate committed suicide rather than be bitten."
    Ed walked toward us speaking into the handset. "That's all we expected to find, but be careful. There could be others here. There were in the past."
    I hugged Kira as I replied. "We need to clear the sheds and the barn, then ransack this place and load what we want. I want to be out of here ASAP." Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed close-by. Rain was imminent. I smelled it clearly in the moisture laden air.
    Minutes later, we stopped to eat cold sandwiches and potato salad from ice chests we'd lugged along. We moved inside the barn as rain drops began to spatter the dust in the barnyard. No one had much to say. We'd lost human friends in one of the worst possible ways imaginable.
    The rainfall was sporadic, and the remaining afternoon was spent loading two trailers and pickups between showers. I'd counted on the two trucks and trailers Tim and Nate had taken from us being onsite, and they were. One was still full and saved us a lot of precious time. After the carnage we'd experienced, everyone was willing to work flat out in the cool temperature to load up and be on our way. Near dusk we finished searching and loading and stopped to eat again. Most of the food items had been found in a large room in the barn, and those susceptible to freeze damage were stashed in the main house. Ed took possession of the weapons and ammunition like they were his grandkids and carefully loaded them in his truck.
    The danger of driving at night had decreased measurably since the zombie hordes had been decimated so savagely by us and by whatever changes the zombie curse had undergone. Thirty minutes after nightfall, we left the zombie carnage as our trucks and trailers slipped and slid down the