case, were laser sights, scopes, fore grips, and just about anything else that could be mounted on a picatinny rail. Nothing particularly useful for a shotgun. However, there was a shell holder that buckled onto the buttstock. He took it, installed it, and filled it up with shells from his pocket.
As he turned to join Toni, he noticed a jewel of a rifle. In a nearby case that was shattered and knocked over, some dipshit had left his favorite rifle. The beautifully crafted lever-action Henry Repeater was truly a sight for sore eyes. It was the most kickass piece of machinery ever constructed by man. He shouldered his shotgun and picked up the bad boy, admiring it like a crack head admiring a rock—or something just as disturbing.
He searched the nearby shelves and racks for a sling, finding a nice black leather dealie with studs and skulls. He attached it quickly and slung the rifle over his shoulder. Now he could join Toni in the search for ammo.
She was still in the handgun room, trying on various new holsters. She currently admired herself in a cowboy-like leather belt with low-hanging holsters. She looked up at Jake as he entered. Jake nodded his approval. She looked hot as fuck; like an escaped slave chick strapping up to take revenge on her former captors. The movie Django came to mind.
“Damn,” Jake said. “They’re definitely you.”
“Did you find anything you like?” she asked.
He held up his new Henry. Toni stuck out an approving lip, slipping on a new coat she had found. It was black suede, with nice, big cowboy buckles, and a studded belt.
“You look fucking bad ass,” Jake said. “I need to find me another coat.”
Toni pointed over to the opposite wall. There, on a hook, was a black leather trench coat; sleek and shiny, and extra-large. Jake grinned, dropping his gear and trying it on. It fit almost perfectly. Strangely enough, the sleeves were a bit long.
“This must have belonged to someone even taller than me,” he said. “But it works.”
Toni gave him an approving nod, holding her revolvers up. “Now we look like some total badasses,” she said.
Jake picked up his gear. “Alright then,” he said. “Let’s grab some more ammo and go do some badass shit.”
Chapter Six
Travis watched from the safety of the scaffolding as Cliff crept up behind a shuffler that was spotted roaming the nearby forest. He had asked Cliff to try and disable one without damaging it too much. He had faith that the man could do it, as his military experience had made him an effective “creeper” as Cliff had put it.
Travis had an idea that could help him figure out the cause of the infection. The shufflers seemed to be mindless wanderers with a single purpose; to migrate to areas where the living were gathered in large numbers. Though in the past this was obvious, it was clear that their purpose or instinct had changed. They were now aggressive, and Travis wanted to know why.
He clenched his jaw as Cliff neared the creature. The thing was oblivious to his approach and made no indication that it even had any idea of its surroundings. It was simply a lone wanderer with no real destination. That was good. It was what he had hoped for, as it would support his theory.
Cliff dispatched the creature quickly by jabbing his knife into the base of its skull. The thing dropped like a rock, and Cliff gave Travis a thumbs up. Eric burst from the brush on the outside of the fence, rushing toward Cliff, clothed in a jump suit, rubber gloves, and a dust mask. He quickly took the creature by the shoulders and dragged it around to the gate, where Lena stood watch.
Travis ran over to it, kneeling beside its lifeless form as the others gathered around. He donned his own mask, rubber gloves, and apron, and drew his knife.
“Stand back,” he said to the others. “I don’t want anyone getting infected with this fungus.”
He stared down at the shuffler’s face, noting the extreme infestation of mold that had eaten
As he turned to join Toni, he noticed a jewel of a rifle. In a nearby case that was shattered and knocked over, some dipshit had left his favorite rifle. The beautifully crafted lever-action Henry Repeater was truly a sight for sore eyes. It was the most kickass piece of machinery ever constructed by man. He shouldered his shotgun and picked up the bad boy, admiring it like a crack head admiring a rock—or something just as disturbing.
He searched the nearby shelves and racks for a sling, finding a nice black leather dealie with studs and skulls. He attached it quickly and slung the rifle over his shoulder. Now he could join Toni in the search for ammo.
She was still in the handgun room, trying on various new holsters. She currently admired herself in a cowboy-like leather belt with low-hanging holsters. She looked up at Jake as he entered. Jake nodded his approval. She looked hot as fuck; like an escaped slave chick strapping up to take revenge on her former captors. The movie Django came to mind.
“Damn,” Jake said. “They’re definitely you.”
“Did you find anything you like?” she asked.
He held up his new Henry. Toni stuck out an approving lip, slipping on a new coat she had found. It was black suede, with nice, big cowboy buckles, and a studded belt.
“You look fucking bad ass,” Jake said. “I need to find me another coat.”
Toni pointed over to the opposite wall. There, on a hook, was a black leather trench coat; sleek and shiny, and extra-large. Jake grinned, dropping his gear and trying it on. It fit almost perfectly. Strangely enough, the sleeves were a bit long.
“This must have belonged to someone even taller than me,” he said. “But it works.”
Toni gave him an approving nod, holding her revolvers up. “Now we look like some total badasses,” she said.
Jake picked up his gear. “Alright then,” he said. “Let’s grab some more ammo and go do some badass shit.”
Chapter Six
Travis watched from the safety of the scaffolding as Cliff crept up behind a shuffler that was spotted roaming the nearby forest. He had asked Cliff to try and disable one without damaging it too much. He had faith that the man could do it, as his military experience had made him an effective “creeper” as Cliff had put it.
Travis had an idea that could help him figure out the cause of the infection. The shufflers seemed to be mindless wanderers with a single purpose; to migrate to areas where the living were gathered in large numbers. Though in the past this was obvious, it was clear that their purpose or instinct had changed. They were now aggressive, and Travis wanted to know why.
He clenched his jaw as Cliff neared the creature. The thing was oblivious to his approach and made no indication that it even had any idea of its surroundings. It was simply a lone wanderer with no real destination. That was good. It was what he had hoped for, as it would support his theory.
Cliff dispatched the creature quickly by jabbing his knife into the base of its skull. The thing dropped like a rock, and Cliff gave Travis a thumbs up. Eric burst from the brush on the outside of the fence, rushing toward Cliff, clothed in a jump suit, rubber gloves, and a dust mask. He quickly took the creature by the shoulders and dragged it around to the gate, where Lena stood watch.
Travis ran over to it, kneeling beside its lifeless form as the others gathered around. He donned his own mask, rubber gloves, and apron, and drew his knife.
“Stand back,” he said to the others. “I don’t want anyone getting infected with this fungus.”
He stared down at the shuffler’s face, noting the extreme infestation of mold that had eaten
Similar Books
