Z-Risen (Book 2): Outcasts by Timothy W. Long Page A

used it as a club.
    The first Z to reach me took a face full of tactical stock. He staggered away but wasn’t dead. I kicked the legs out from under another while Sails got Joel Kelly into the car.
    I dove back through the rear door as Sails slammed hers shut. She hit the gas, and we ripped over the easement and hit the asphalt hard enough to bounce me into the roof.
    “Gun!” Joel said and reached over his shoulder.
    I looked around and found his piece on the floor. I handed it over. Kelly did a quick inspection, and then leaned out of the window and fired two rounds.
    That’s when the shuffler hit the car.
    He must have been in the mass of Z’s, because I didn’t even see him until he was on the trunk. He held on as Sails slowed to maneuver around the fresh hell that had arrived from the road. This mass wasn’t as big as the one we’d left behind, but there was no way we could just plow through them.
    The shuffler howled at me, so I howled back. He was an ugly fucker with lank hair that hung just above his eyes. There was that look of something…intelligence? Anger? It seemed to nestle there in his gaze, and I saw, for the second time, the hint of green, like he had some kind of dye in his eyes.
    “Gun!” I yelled.
    Sails handed back her big .357. I took the handgun, lifted it, and then fired. The explosion in the little vehicle was like the soundtrack to the end of the world.
    The shuffler fell away, but he’d moved as I’d lifted the piece and aimed. I slammed the gun into the rear window, near the bullet hole; most of the safety glass fell into the car.
    I sank back into the seat as Sails found an open spot of road. The only problem? We were headed away from Fortress Mark II.
     
    ###
     

08:20 hours approximate
    Location: Clairemont, CA - Undead Central
     
    The wind tore into the car as Sails pushed the vehicle up to speed.
    “We’ll hit the freeway and then double back around the outskirts of the city. Go the way we came in, yeah?” Joel spoke to me and Sails, his eyes darting around.
    “Sounds like a plan.” My voice sounded weird, like I was talking through a gag.
    My ears rang like a bitch from all the gunplay; shooting at the shuffler had nearly made me deaf.
    Just when I thought we were home free, the car came to a screeching halt. Joel and I were both thrown into the seats in front of us with a few healthy howls and curses. I got my arm up, but still managed to kiss leather.
    “Christ on a crutch, Sails!” Joel was wide-eyed.
    “Wow, gee. I must really suck at this driving shit. Now shut up and look!” Sails sounded like she wanted to rip our heads off. I peered forward and saw why.
    I exhaled a long, slow, weary breath, then swore. Joel looked through the cracked front window and joined me. Great. We’d gone from one fuckening to another in the space of two minutes – and this one left us completely exposed.
    Ahead lay a sea of dead.

 
    They’d taken to the roads like a parade of the damned. Moaning, lurching, covered in filth and blood. Missing arms, ears, lips, and cheeks. Damaged bodies, torn skin, mangled limbs. They had the telltale white eyes; most swiveled to take us in.
    “How the hell do we get back to Fortress, now?” I wondered out loud.
    “We may have to go through them,” Sails said.
    “That’s not much of a plan,” Joel responded. Can’t say I disagreed.
    So our choices came down to either going back, or going around them.
    “Fuck it.” Anna punched the car into reverse and backed down the ramp, then flipped around and drove until she found a bit of shoulder that wasn’t covered in bodies, busted cars, or the remnants of looted supplies. She slammed the car to a halt, and this time I was ready. I got my hand up to stop my forward momentum, but before I could, she gunned the engine and shot down a side alley.
    J oel tried his throat mic again. This time he got through.
    After speaking in a low voice for a minute, he shot Sails a look of fear.
    “What’s