Wake the Dead Read Online Free PDF

raven-hued beard upon his face.
    He had no razor and his beard was thick with sweat, despite the cold. But, at least he could wash it. There was a fireplace and he had plenty of wood around to chop and gather, and there was quite a stock ready to go beside the cabin, stacked neatly in piles.
    It was not long after the winter months ended when Alex had finally gone through all of the wood. And during that time, his bite wound had fully healed, too.
    He was pulled from his reverie just then as he dropped the axe head on a block of wood. It was time to stock up again.
    One thing he recalled was that in his seclusion and mourning over losing Sara, that Shadow’s presence was the sole thing that kept him alive that long and lonely winter.
     
    ***
     
    He chopped wood for a good portion of that day, not long after sharing a couple of cans of tuna with Shadow, and after his morning mini-workout. He decided if he was going to stay alive, he needed to stay in good shape. And so, he performed simple exercises, including push-ups, sit-ups, body squats and jumping jacks each morning and evening. The wood chopping was an added bonus, and one he regretted once he finished and rested.
    He also spent the last few months of seclusion training the wolf and trying to assert himself as the alpha, knowing that made sense as wolves instinctually associated with a pack. The only thing Alex recalled was watching a documentary about a man who had lived with wolves. He tried to recall the particulars on more than one occasion.
    It was a rough and lonely winter, even with the wolf’s company, but that afforded him the time to develop a bond with Shadow. He was successful in most of his trainings, the wolf responding in most cases as a dog would. However, on occasion, as he wrestled with Shadow, or tried to be overly aggressive, it would end with a snap or growl these past few days. Alex would growl right back, not giving up his dominance and asserting himself. Shadow was beginning to respond to some hand gestures along with speech patterns or tones he used. Mostly, he believed that as long as he fed him, Shadow would continue to respond favorably.
    The sun was high overhead and Shadow lay under the shade of a tree near where Alex toiled. It was still chilly these days as he guessed it to be around March by now, but he had lost track of days and months. Afternoons were cool and nights were colder still, though it was warming, he believed.
    As he brought his axe to bear upon the center of a log, splitting it cleanly in two, Shadow uttered a low growl and he scanned the area all around. In the distance to the south, he could see a pair of zombies wandering into the area around the cabin.
    “Shit,” he said, bending low behind the pile of wood. Shadow stood and growled as the nearest zombie caught sight of Alex—or smelled him, he wondered?—and it charged. Shadow bit the undead thing around the ankle and tripped it up, tearing at the creature’s flesh. The second one, a female at one time, charged Shadow’s flank, but Alex was there to intercept its attack.
    Alex swung the axe in a left to right arc, catching the female zombie in the head and sending it sprawling to the dirt. The axe head stuck in its skull and the force of the swing, a swing wrought with anger at seeing Shadow attacked, sent it stumbling away.
    He made to aid the wolf, but Shadow needed no help, it seemed. He tore at the zombie and had its throat in its maw, tearing and ripping the flesh. The thing kept squirming until Alex retrieved his axe and split that one’s skull too.
    He’d never thought about it, but, as Shadow began eating the flesh of the zombie, he considered the ramifications.
    Why not? It is meat, after all, Alex figured. He wasn’t sure if the wolf was hungry or instinctually eating, or what. He’d never considered at all what might happen to the wolf if it ate zombie flesh, and what might happen to him if he did.
    He also realized in truth at that moment, that