Zombie Road: The Second Omnibus by Simpson, A. (e ink manga reader .txt) 📗

watching Lucinda dressed as a voodoo priestess and tearing out a chunk of the heart, blood covering her chin and dripping down her breasts. A fanciful retelling of Casey’s rise to power.

The party after the first sacrifice had been phenomenal and he had even brought out his own personal play toy. He made her dress in the most elegant clothes they could find and sit on a fancy throne in a place of honor. The president of the United States attended his feast and when he put a plate of barbecued ribs in front of her, a large serving he’d just carved off a slowly roasted woman suspended over the coals, she just smiled and thanked him graciously as she picked up her fork. Casey smiled his best smarmy smile right back. She’d learned her lesson. He’d taught her good. She didn’t want any more lessons from him. Not ever.

She’d tried to be insolent when he first dragged her out of her cell, after he had gotten things set up and running. She’d acted all defiant and spit in his face. That was before he started teaching her that first lesson. She had even laughed at him when he dropped his pants and came at her.

“Who are you going to please with that?” she’d asked, pointing and snickering, acting audacious and bold, unafraid and strong.

“Me,” he’d replied and stabbed her with a short knife, breaking the skin and piercing a small hole between her ribs. He then proceeded to tear it wider with his fingers then crammed his throbbing little manhood into her ribcage, forcing his way into the new gash in her body. She screamed and fought against the chains, but he only slammed into her harder, sliding between the bones and muscle until he was finished. He then made her clean him with her mouth, a pipe wrench matted with old gore and bits of hair in his hand, just daring her to use her teeth to bite him.

She didn’t.

She had learned her lesson.

She knew her place.

She ate the barbecued ribs.

A few days after the sacrifice, the second recon team returned with new recruits who had already feasted on flesh, were already proud members in good standing of the Raiders. They had a box truck full of prisoners; the women would serve them well and the men would work. For a while, that’s how things went. Teams rotating in and out, just like a real army. They would drop off supplies and captives, get a little oceanside R&R, then head back out. The northern teams checked in by radio, they had ranged too far to gather prisoners and return, but they were doing their part to let the people know Casey and the Raiders were in charge. One of his southern teams disappeared. One day they were returning with a full load, the next they were gone. Casey wanted to hear their reports about towns he could occupy, but Lucinda said it was a sign when they didn’t respond. It meant danger to the East and he should pick their new home from the choices the other teams gave them.

The crews that went west had discovered a few viable options, but the areas were heavily infected with the undead. Everything in California was too crowded with zombies, it would be a full-time battle to keep them under control. The teams that had ranged far to the north radioed in, said there were a few options up in the mountains, but Casey didn’t like the cold. He told them to remain, to keep scouting and keep spreading terror. Let the outposts know the Raiders were in charge. He didn’t like sweltering heat, but he really hated ice and snow. His team that had been exploring Arizona had brought back the best report so far. It was a community that was nearly impregnable, had good fields of vision for miles in all directions, had electricity from the wind farms, and plenty of water from a pipeline in the Little Colorado River. It was the perfect place, the Hopi Indian clifftop town. It was designed for defenses centuries ago and since the virus outbreak, the Indians had been working on it nonstop to fortify and modernize it. Only a hundred or so people had survived and they were wary, but welcomed traders and craftsmen into their town, Paco said.

“It would be hard to take it by force, but if we can get some people inside, do that Roman Horse thing you were talking about, we could take it.”

“Trojan Horse,” Casey corrected, looking at the photos Paco had snapped with his phone. It wasn’t anything like he’d imagined from the pictures or shows he’d seen on TV over the years. It was lush and green, with hanging gardens.

“I thought this was all desert area,” he said, thumbing through them.

“It is,” Paco said, sharing his knowledge with pride. “But since there aren’t hundreds of thousands of people and farms using up all the water, they’ve got more than they need. It’s like Las Vegas, ese. You can have a golf course and swimming pools and water fountains in the middle of the desert. The zombies are pretty slow, too. The sun is baking them. They’re all shriveled up.”

“I like it,” Casey said and clapped him on the shoulder. “Anything you and your crew want, Paco, it’s yours. Now go have some fun and relax, I’ll get everyone else started packing up. We’ll get out of this hell hole in a few days, get back to the States where we belong.”

16

Gunny

They saw the dust trail in front of them, hanging on stubbornly against the horizon. They were getting closer, pushing their machines, eating up the miles. The raiders weren’t hard to follow, there were only a few logical paths to take. With sections of the road covered in drifting sand, they simply followed the trail of tire prints. They came across an occasional group of