All Together Now: A Zombie Story Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Robert Kent
the only noise the door made as I shoved it open was a metal creak.
The first thing I saw was the sun, high, bright and blinding. The second thing was the dark outline of a zombie I didn't realize was Chuck until he lurched toward me, dragging the handle of the catchpole fastened around his neck behind him.
Keep him safe, Ricky.
I was glad he'd followed us, and if it had just been him, Michelle and I would've made a run for it. But eight more zombies came shuffling behind him.
They snarled at the sight of us. Their steps quickened.
These zombies weren't members of the church. Three of them had green uniform shirts with a gold patch stitched on the shoulder that told me they came from the jail. The other five looked like they'd escaped the cells.
I said some words I'm not writing and slammed the door closed.
I shut my eyes and pressed my head against the door. I had to think, had to figure a way out.
Behind me, I heard the WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! sound of zombie fists we'd been living with on and off all night, though it was louder and more motivated now that they could see us.
And then a new sound: shattering glass.
13
THE GLASS ON THE FRONT of Ernie's is strong. It might not hold up to bullets like the glass around the counters in Indianapolis gas stations, but you have to hit it really hard and you're more likely to break your hand before you break the glass.
But if you're dead and don't care about your hand and have six dead friends to help, you can get it smashed in about nine fist pounds.
Levi was the first to get his hand through the glass and inside the store. By that time his fingers were raw nubs and the falling glass took chunks of his forearm with it. If it bothered him, it didn't show.
His milky white eyes were locked on Michelle.
Zombies from the church crowded behind Levi. The entire front lot of Ernie's was covered in walking corpses, their moaning so loud it was as though it was coming from speakers at the front of a rock show.
The stench of their unwashed, festering flesh poured through the broken windows.
I held my breath to keep from being sick and raised my bat.
Michelle aimed the gun—no point worrying about gunshots attracting zombies now.
The first shot blew a hole through the chest of an overweight dead man in a short-sleeve shirt and tie. He stumbled back a step, paused as though puzzled, then came toward the window, the incident forgotten.
Her second shot struck the head of a dead woman in a blue dress. She fell over and didn't rise again.
Then Michelle was out of bullets.
She pulled her pack off her shoulders to get more.
A fat woman in a white dress and high heels was scrambling through the broken window, shredding her gut on the glass and knocking over bottles of oil and antifreeze.
I brought my bat down and missed her head.
I struck her meaty shoulder making a thwack sound. That arm went limp, so she shifted her weight to the other arm and kept coming.
I swung from the side like I was knocking it into the stands and hit her directly in the temple.
Her skull gave with a dry crack.
Blood and brain splashed my chin and neck.
The fat woman did a face-plant on the floor and stayed still, but by that time two dead men were crawling through the windows to my left.
I chanced a look back and saw Michelle on her knees, groping for bullets she'd dropped.
It took three swings to bring the first dead man down, but by then I was warmed up and I brought the second down with only two.
Not that it made much difference.
The front doors of Ernie's burst open and the horde poured in.
14
I KEPT SWINGING AS I retreated backward. There were too many to strike down even if I had a bat in each hand and they came at me one at a time.
Five zombies were trying to come through Ernie's front door at once and they blocked each other like too much meat clogging a grinder.
But there were three already inside and four more climbing through the broken windows.
I swung
The first thing I saw was the sun, high, bright and blinding. The second thing was the dark outline of a zombie I didn't realize was Chuck until he lurched toward me, dragging the handle of the catchpole fastened around his neck behind him.
Keep him safe, Ricky.
I was glad he'd followed us, and if it had just been him, Michelle and I would've made a run for it. But eight more zombies came shuffling behind him.
They snarled at the sight of us. Their steps quickened.
These zombies weren't members of the church. Three of them had green uniform shirts with a gold patch stitched on the shoulder that told me they came from the jail. The other five looked like they'd escaped the cells.
I said some words I'm not writing and slammed the door closed.
I shut my eyes and pressed my head against the door. I had to think, had to figure a way out.
Behind me, I heard the WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! sound of zombie fists we'd been living with on and off all night, though it was louder and more motivated now that they could see us.
And then a new sound: shattering glass.
13
THE GLASS ON THE FRONT of Ernie's is strong. It might not hold up to bullets like the glass around the counters in Indianapolis gas stations, but you have to hit it really hard and you're more likely to break your hand before you break the glass.
But if you're dead and don't care about your hand and have six dead friends to help, you can get it smashed in about nine fist pounds.
Levi was the first to get his hand through the glass and inside the store. By that time his fingers were raw nubs and the falling glass took chunks of his forearm with it. If it bothered him, it didn't show.
His milky white eyes were locked on Michelle.
Zombies from the church crowded behind Levi. The entire front lot of Ernie's was covered in walking corpses, their moaning so loud it was as though it was coming from speakers at the front of a rock show.
The stench of their unwashed, festering flesh poured through the broken windows.
I held my breath to keep from being sick and raised my bat.
Michelle aimed the gun—no point worrying about gunshots attracting zombies now.
The first shot blew a hole through the chest of an overweight dead man in a short-sleeve shirt and tie. He stumbled back a step, paused as though puzzled, then came toward the window, the incident forgotten.
Her second shot struck the head of a dead woman in a blue dress. She fell over and didn't rise again.
Then Michelle was out of bullets.
She pulled her pack off her shoulders to get more.
A fat woman in a white dress and high heels was scrambling through the broken window, shredding her gut on the glass and knocking over bottles of oil and antifreeze.
I brought my bat down and missed her head.
I struck her meaty shoulder making a thwack sound. That arm went limp, so she shifted her weight to the other arm and kept coming.
I swung from the side like I was knocking it into the stands and hit her directly in the temple.
Her skull gave with a dry crack.
Blood and brain splashed my chin and neck.
The fat woman did a face-plant on the floor and stayed still, but by that time two dead men were crawling through the windows to my left.
I chanced a look back and saw Michelle on her knees, groping for bullets she'd dropped.
It took three swings to bring the first dead man down, but by then I was warmed up and I brought the second down with only two.
Not that it made much difference.
The front doors of Ernie's burst open and the horde poured in.
14
I KEPT SWINGING AS I retreated backward. There were too many to strike down even if I had a bat in each hand and they came at me one at a time.
Five zombies were trying to come through Ernie's front door at once and they blocked each other like too much meat clogging a grinder.
But there were three already inside and four more climbing through the broken windows.
I swung
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