Zombie Fight Night: Battles of the Dead Read Online Free PDF

to the side.
The dead began to rise.
The creature rose to the surface, gray skin dusty and flaking, dark rings beneath its eyes.
Tep had fought Shamblers before.
    Piece of cake.
    The buzzer droned, the crowd cheered, the dead man’s restraints fell to the ground.
    Tep raised his hands, fists loose but ready, elbows parallel to the floor, forearms set to block anything the dead man threw at him.
    The Shamblers all moved the same: one foot slowly dragged in front of the other, the feet slapping down heel to toe, arms swaying side to side like a pendulum until the creature saw what it wanted then reached out for it.
    The zombie brought its hands up, then quickly brought one down, trying to get a grip on Tep’s shoulder. Tep let it grab him and allowed it to pull him closer.
    Closer.
    Closer.
    The ghoul opened its mouth, about to take a chunk out of Tep’s neck. In a flash, Tep shot his elbow outward, clocking the creature in the side of the jaw. The jaw bone snapped. Then he quickly tagged it with an upper cut, knocking the creature’s head back. The zombie brought both its arms in in an effort to grab him. Tep shoved the arms away, reached out, grabbed the zombie by what little hair it had left, then plowed the dead man’s face into his knee. A front kick with his left leg and Tep sent the zombie stumbling back against the cage.
    Some in the crowd cheered. Others booed and hissed. He couldn’t blame them. Shamblers were only a challenge when there was more than one of them.
    Usually.
    The zombie pushed itself off the cage wall and chugged toward him like a train going up an incline, its head low like some comedic bull aiming for that elusive red cape.
    Tep stood his ground and let the thing stumble closer and closer, a false sense of tension for the crowd’s benefit. Just as it was about to grab him, he moved to the side then in behind the creature and booted it in the backside, sending it sprawling on the floor.
    The crowd laughed. Some guy from somewhere close said, “Gimme a break!”
    Tep didn’t care. This was too much fun.
    The dead man got to his feet, turned around and came at him again. The monster’s jaw hung from its sockets limp and weak and no longer a threat. Tep charged the creature and shoved it into the cage wall and wailed on it with his hands and feet. Each turning kick to the zombie’s midsection shattered its ribs; each hook to its face broke the thing’s cheekbones all the more. Fist. Elbow. Knee. Foot. Fist. Elbow. Knee. Foot. Fist. Elbow. Knee. Foot. Over and over until there was nothing more than a sack of bloody skin filled with shattered bone pressed up against the cage wall.
    The zombie still tried to bite him, but with no working facial muscles—the most movement it got was some kind of relaxed twitch in his face—he merely curled and contracted his lips.
Tep dropped the creature and let him sprawl out on the floor.
It was over.
Piece of cake.
     
     
    9
    Gettin’ Ready to Rock and Roll
     
     
    Y es! Mick had to make a conscious effort to stay seated and keep his mouth shut. He reminded himself that indicating you won was also against the rules. Sure, you could cheer, boo or hiss during the fight, but the personal outcome of it had to be kept to yourself.
Jack must have caught him grinning. “Good for you.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Jack smirked then stared at his Controller for a moment. Mick wondered how the big guy did.
    Anna would be happy. Hope so, anyway, Mick thought. As good as all of this was, though, the night was far from over and there was lots coming up, some of the fights, no doubt, making the past few seem like child’s play.
    He stood up and stretched his legs. Jack did the same.
    When the two sat down, Mick glanced around for the nachos guy again. What he wouldn’t give for a bite and a drink. His stomach growled and already the inside of his mouth was getting a bit sticky. Guess Sterpanko wanted him to sweat.
    Mick tapped his