Dead South Rising (Book 2): Death Row Read Online Free PDF

time I checked, dead people didn’t walk around.”
    A hush rushed into the room like a vacuum.  
    Taking advantage of having the floor, Luz added, “It’s like a cancer. You don’t just cure cancer.”
    “Really. That’s your diagnosis? Cancer?”
    For the first time that morning, Randy Phillips spoke up. His tone was light, soothing. “I didn’t believe it at first, Dr. Gonzalez, that they were… dead.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve got some EMT training, so I’m no doctor like you, but…” He averted his eyes, as though he didn’t want to sass a superior. “Well, my professional opinion is in line with Jessica’s and the Janitor’s.”
    The doctor huffed. “You’re just saying that because she’s your friend. And you’re right, you’re not a doctor.”
    Randy twisted his lip through his thick beard, and rubbed at his own bandage covering the gunshot wound he suffered in the gunfight with Sammy and Guillermo.
    Jessica’s temper knocked, beating at the door. She was over it. Over the fighting, over the name calling and insinuations and… just all of it. She glanced up at Randy, and could tell Luz had stepped on his feelings, walked all over them, his opinion nullified by a supposed professional. He was retreating within himself, and this upset her.
    Jessica muttered, “You’re so full of shit.”
    “Excuse me?” The doctor’s eyes went wide, lids flipping like window shades yanked and released.
    “You heard me.”
    A smug smile crossed the doctor’s face. “I’ll bet you enjoy killing them, don’t you? Wasn’t it your cousin—what’s his name?—ah, David, right? Wasn’t it David who came up with that plan to massacre the masses with that death machine out in the field?”
    Jessica’s heart drop-kicked her sternum right out of the ring. Her vision pulsed with every pump. Her eardrums slammed with every thump. And she got more and more pissed with every punch. Her face and neck flushed with fury. She could already feel Luz’s tangled tresses between her clenched fingers, Jess yanking and flinging and pulling and—
    “I supported the idea,” the Janitor said. “Hell, still do, truth be told. We know they’re dangerous, folks. I’ve seen it, and I know most of you have, too.” Folding his lanky arms across his thin chest, he shook his head. “Leaving them out there like that… it’s a big gamble. Plus, them being out there’s drawing more of ‘em. I’m not willing to risk any more injuries trying to wrangle ‘em up, stick ‘em in the pool or courts.” He glanced at Roy. “And they ain’t coming inside. ”
    Roy just tightened his arms across his chest, blood seeping through the bandage on his right forearm.
    “What happened, Roy?”
    “Hmm?”
    “Your arm. What happened?”
    “Um…”
    Luz said, “He was helping me move a piece of equipment and cut his arm on it. I told him to get another person, but he insisted on doing it himself.” She shot a strange, nervous little glance at Roy.
    “Um, yeah. That’s what I get for being a team player.” He laughed a light, uneasy laugh.
    Jessica huffed.
    Roy visibly bristled. “Least I ain’t a goddamned murderer—”
    “Roy! Enough!” The Janitor’s voice boomed virulently, as if he were forty years younger and strong as ever—and ready to kick some ass. Almost everyone in the room flinched.
    Gabriel raked back his long, iron-gray hair, exhaled a deep sigh. “Let’s take five, folks. I think we all need some air.” He paused a beat, then added, “I know I sure as hell do.”
    “But Gabriel, we need to decide right—”
    “Luz.” His voice clapped against the walls, and he gave a look that begged her to push it and see what would happen.
    “Fine,” she said, slapping her palms to the table and pressing to her feet.  
    * * *
    “Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick,” Randy said to Jessica.
    They stood outside the tiny conference room, watching folks file out into the hallway, then wander off in a billow of