Jake's Law: A Zombie Novel Read Online Free PDF

situations.
    In his recon unit in Afghanistan, he had been the SDM, the Squad Designated Marksman, and had carried a modified M16. Such a weapon was illegal in the US, but he doubted anyone cared now. 45 caliber ammunition was easier to find than the 5.56 mm the M16 used, so he preferred the R-15.
    The drive into town was a rough one, even for his four-wheel drive jeep. His dirt trail had suffered during the spring rains. He had tried to repair the worst spots, but without heavier equipment than a rake and a shovel, it was only patchwork. Soon, he would have to find a small bobcat bulldozer for more permanent repairs or risk being stranded and on foot. San Pedro River Road proved little better. It was gravel and wider, but the washes were almost impassable and the innumerable washboard ruts jarred his spine. Grass and weeds thrust upward through the packed gravel. In some places, it was difficult to tell road from desert. Already, the land was busily reclaiming what man had wrestled from it.
    A few miles from San Manuel, the gravel road became pavement. He stopped the jeep and killed the engine, listening before he entered the town. The sharp report of a gunshot was followed by two more, then silence. Someone was alive and in trouble. He hesitated. He didn’t like getting involved in other people’s problems, but he was curious about the smoke. He unsnapped his holster and laid the R-15 across the seat beside him just in case, and continued down the road.
    The town of San Manuel was mostly located off the main road. He usually avoided the densely packed neighborhoods and its inherent local zombie population. However, this time his curiosity compelled him to enter the town. A cloud of smoke rose from the combined junior high and high schools. A large part of the main was already gone. Fingers of steel rebar and thick support columns protruded through piles of smoldering brick and rubble. Another section was mostly intact but in flames. Smoke billowed from the windows and curled over the eaves. A man stood near the school entrance shooting zombies as they emerged from the flames. Some of the creatures’ clothing was on fire, their flesh seared and blackened from the inferno, but they charged him, heedless of the flames consuming them. Jake silently saluted the man’s ingenuity in herding the zombies into the school to dispose of them en masse. He watched him take down several of the creatures in this manner, but as a wall collapsed, more than a dozen creatures rushed from the ruins. The shooter turned to run toward a nearby Toyota pickup, but he was overweight and ran too slowly. Jake saw that he would never make it before he was overtaken.  
    He was torn. He could either watch the man die or help him. The ex-deputy in him pushed him to help, but the survivalist cautioned against risking his life for a total stranger. Deciding he had watched too many people die, he picked up his R-15 in one hand and drove closer. The man didn’t hear or notice the jeep until Jake began firing the Bushmaster into the mass of zombies. Then, startled, the stranger cowered behind his pickup. Jake finished off the zombies and parked a few yards away, waiting. The stranger watched Jake for a couple of minutes before emerging from behind his vehicle, his rifle cradled in his arms, handy but not threatening. Jake exited the jeep. He left his rifle on the seat, but he had his pistol on his hip, so he felt safe.
    “Nice job,” he said, nodding his head toward the burning school.
    The man, shorter than Jake by three inches, slightly balding, and severely overweight, smiled. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and said, “I lured about fifty inside a couple of days ago and set it afire. I thought the fire would kill them all, but it died out. I tried again last night, but a few managed to escape. I was cleaning up.”
    “I saw the smoke and was curious.”
    The man stared at the smoke rising into the sky for a moment. “Thanks for