Rotting to the Core (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 2) by S.P. Durnin Page B

squirmed out in a seemingly endless stream of red-nosed
creepiness. He'd never liked clowns much. Not after reading Stephen
King's IT . Pennywise was one twisted son of a bitch.
    Kat froze momentarily, then leapt back to
encircle him with her arms, took him to the ground, and swiftly
rolled them both under the rear of a small box truck. They ended up
with Jake on the bottom, back flat to the asphalt, a rather large
rock poking him uncomfortably under his right kidney, and Kat
straddling his hips. Her hand shot up, cupping over his mouth to
stifle any protest, and she leaned down to breathe in his ear.
    “ Stragglers...”
    Cursing mentally, Jake froze. Kat didn't move
a muscle either, only her eyes. They repeatedly swiveled from left
to right as he lay beneath her, and he heard five sets of uneven
footsteps move by their hiding place. Now five zombies weren't that
big of a problem but dealing with them, or attracting their
attention, would most definitely alert the small horde slowly
wrecking the still blaring Dodge to the fact that there were living
humans in the immediate area. That would once again put Jake and
Kat directly up Shit Creek, sans the benefit of anything resembling
a paddle.
    “ They're close...” It was easier for
Jake to hear his own pulse pounding in his veins than Kat's breeze
of a voice in his ear. Daring to tilt his head back slightly on the
pavement, O'Connor was able to view several raggedly, clothed pairs
of legs shuffling woodenly by the tailgate. Despite the noise
generated by the Charger's car alarm, the ghouls seemed indecisive
about joining the writhing mass tearing the auto apart. One of the
creatures actually stopped while the others moved toward the
moaning crowd, and stood alone turning slowly round and round in
place. It seemed to be searching for something, but why? When the
zombie took a step towards the box truck and bumped against the
rear door, Jake's free hand gripped reflexively at Cho's
leather-clad hip.
    Her voice wafted. “Easy...”
    The thing bumped into the rear door
again.
    “ Wait...”. Kat's eyes never left the
creature. She relaxed against Jake and removed her hand from his
mouth.
    While tried not to panic, O'Connor's jaw
clenched and ground his teeth together. The zombie was close now.
Almost within arm’s reach. Even though it hadn't seen them, the
ugly bastard had sensed something. Jake began to swivel his arm up
and forward, bringing the Hammer pistol along in his shaking fist,
but Kat's left hand intercepted the motion and pressed it back to
the ground.
    “ Trust me...” she breathed. Kat's hand
slid up his arm, over Jake's shoulder and chest, down his tensed
stomach, and finally she pushed her fingers just under the
waistband of his pants. They couldn't move any lower, again,
because unlike all the baggy-crotched morons who walked around with
saggy, clown-style pants to show off their underwear prior to the
zombie outbreak, O'Connor always wore a belt. Doing so held his
pants up so he could beat feet if the situation called for it. Like
say, when he was being chased by a shit-ton of drooling, smelly,
dead cannibals who wanted to tear into his ass like a fat kid would
a value-sized box of Zingers. That being the case, Kat retracted
her fingers and slid her palm down over his pants.
    Jake's eyebrows shot up and he wrenched his
gaze from the zombie's legs to give her a look that clearly said,
What Do You Think You're Doing?, which Cho ignored. She spared him
a glance and a quick grin before fixing her eyes on the creature
once more.
    Then her hand began roaming.
    Now, impending death aside, any heterosexual
male will tell you that when a sexy woman gets it in her mind to
distract you, and she puts her mind to it? Nine times out of ten
she is going to succeed. That was the epiphany Jake had as
he lay there on the grimy asphalt between the legs of said sexy
woman, with a zombie not five feet away. The creature bounced off
the tailgate again and Jake tensed. In