Blood Moon by Gwendolyn Harper (best sales books of all time .TXT) 📗

Booker said. “If he aims for the road, then we’ll be upwind. It’ll buy us some time.”

“And if he doesn’t aim for the road?”

Booker faltered.

“Hope y’all got a lot of fire extinguishers.”

Minutes passed before they heard the first crash and roar of flames.

Undead groans filled the air as bodies stumbled by.

Another explosion, and more Geeks trampled along the ground, rushing for the source of the heat and light.

Grabbing a broken pew to stand on, Booker climbed to one of the boarded over windows and peeked through the gap in the two-by-fours.

“Holy…” he trailed off.

“Jack?”

He looked down at her. “He aimed for the road alright,” he said. “Boy’s got the makin’ of a pro.”

“Did he toss it far enough?” She asked, pulling herself up so she could see as well.

Travis didn’t throw it far enough, he threw it almost clear across the street into the field. The second had landed on the asphalt. Geeks were tripping over themselves to get at the glowing heat, only to catch fire and fall over, unable to put themselves out.

A steady stream of Geeks wandered away from the side of the church, following their herd to their own demise.

The third bottle crashed in the middle of the hoard clustered at the embankment. Grimy clothes lit up fast, melting to rotting flesh. They were too stupid to steer clear from the flames, and too slow escape once the ground beneath them was ablaze.

They waited and waited until the herd was almost a huge pile of kindling.

Caitlin thought Travis had decided not to throw the last bottle, but then it came soaring through the air, hitting the last of the herd and adding to the already massive pyre.

In less than ten minutes, almost a hundred Geeks were nothing but charred corpses.

The ladder creaked as Nicole descended first, and then Travis.

Pushing his blond hair off his forehead, he beamed. “How was that?”

Jorge pulled him into a tight bear hug.

“You did great, Trav. You did really great.”

Chapter Nine

Being offered a meal and a place to stay the night didn’t surprise Caitlin that much.

Being asked to help teach the kids self-defense tactics and basic weapon training did.

After tending the Geek bonfire outside, leaving pails of water close to the church and where the flames were still highest, they returned to find all the children sitting on the floor in rows waiting for them.

Booker was a natural teacher, but his public speaking skills left something to be desired.

Caitlin had long thought her abilities to command and engage a room full of people while spouting relatively dense information were lost to the world before zombies roamed. She was delighted to discover she still had the knack.

“Okay, can anyone tell me the first thing you should do when you see a Geek?”

A flurry of hands shot into the air. Caitlin pointed to one of the younger boys.

“Hit ‘em in the face,” he answered.

Booker chuckled. “Not quite, but you’re getting’ there.”

“The first thing you should do is run,” Caitlin explained. “Geeks are slow, and you guys can outrun them pretty quickly. If you see a Geek, run back towards the group and tell the others.”

More hands flew up.

“What if you can’t run?”

“What if you’re lost?”

“What if you can’t find the group?”

Caitlin side stepped, using the movement to keep everyone focused on her.

“Those are great questions, and bring me to my next point,” she said, walking towards Booker. Maneuvering him to face the children, she used him as a model. “Say you’re hurt, or you can’t move away fast enough. The best weapons you have are already a part of you.”

The kids all looked down at themselves, curious.

Caitlin smiled. “Your feet. You kick, starting here—” She pointed to Booker’s kneecaps. “—That’ll topple the Geek over and slow it down. You can also kick here and here,” she added, gesturing to his abdomen and pelvis. “That’s where our centers of gravity are. If you can knock that off balance, they’ll fall, and you can escape.”

Booker fought a smile as she gripped his shoulders, moving him around once more.

“Same goes for the back,” she said. “Kick behind the knees, the low back—anywhere you can reach and follow through with the force. Don’t hesitate.”

Another hand rose.

“What if we have to kill it?”

Booker faced the group again. “Well, let’s hope you ain’t got to, but…” He reached back and pulled his KBAR free. “Most of y’all are too little for guns,” he said, squatting down. “But a knife can be just as effective. That does mean you have t’get close to a groaner, and that’s where the danger is.”

“’Cause they’ll bite your face off?”

He grinned at the twelve-year-old girl who spoke.

“Yep, that’s exactly it. They’ll bite ya, or scratch. Which is why this is a last resort,” he said, holding up his knife.

“We don’t seek them out,” Caitlin added. “We only do what we have to to survive.”

They spent the next thirty minutes explaining anatomy and just where to plunge a knife to get to the brain. Using Booker as a test dummy, she showed all the children various ways to dodge an attack, how to escape a hold, and how to aim with their weapons. She explained bludgeoning and the amount of force it takes to crack a skull, and was only a little disturbed by the fascinated murmurs rippling through the group.

It was a universal truth that all kids loved gross stuff. An apocalypse didn’t change that.

The best part was having the kids practice on Booker. Watching ten-year-olds line up to kick him in the legs and chest was way more entertaining than she could’ve guessed. Especially when he started groaning and lumbering forward like a discount Halloween decoration, making them all giggle and