Zombie Fighter Jango #1 The Road to Hell Is Paved With Zombies Read Online Free PDF Page A

bird-song had completely vanished.
    Jango got a sudden chill, his hackles raised, and with the reflexes of an abuse survivor, he threw himself to the right, took ukemi, and came up in a fighting stance. Nothing. He looked around, shrugged his shoulders, and headed toward the grocery store on Gurley Street.
    “SchheeeHawwwww-EEEEEEEEE !” A zombie wearing a black and white uniform, with a white chef’s hat perched on its head rushed at Jango with unearthly speed.
    “I fucking knew it was too quiet,” he whispered to himself as he snapped his stick up into a two-handed grip; stick parallel to the ground, about level with his chin. He set his feet in something between a boxer’s stance, and a knife-fighter’s stance, left foot leading, knees slightly bent.
    When the zombie was about six or seven feet away, Jango’s entire body moved blur-fast as he unfolded into a stick-punch. He stepped forward a little bit with his right foot, his right hip twisted forward; his powerful abdominal muscles drove his thick right shoulder toward the zombie, and his steel-muscled right arm shot forward like a piston as he snapped the heavy stick out in a one-handed strike. The end of his stick connected with the zombie’s right temple with a loud “CRAACKK!” The results were impressive. The zombie’s head gave way like a cardboard box under a moving car; its skull crumpled as the zombie’s upper-half stopped like it had hit a brick-wall. The creature’s feet flew up in the air as its momentum was spent.
    Jango looked dispassionately at the zombie, and mentally catalogued the damage he had done. The zombie’s skull was crushed in. His stick had sunken into the thing’s head nearly all the way to its nose. He grunted in satisfaction, and started doing a lunatic’s version of an Irish River-Dance around the newly re-killed creature. Finally, for the first time in his life, he felt good about himself.
    Then, as swiftly as he had begun his insane jig, he stopped moving, and looked at the zombie’s still, lifeless form. Jango sighed, a deep and melancholy sound, and fell to his knees beside the unmoving corpse.
    He was many things: violent, paranoid, untrusting of people, and capable of horrific violence with no conscience or regret. However, he was much more than just a madman.
    He compulsively supported the under-dogs of the world, was fiercely protective of animals, women, and children. He was also something that most people would never be able to guess. He was a lover of all the things in the world worth loving.
    He looked at the zombie, and realized that this was once a man. Someone’s friend, son, brother, he had been a part of the world, and he had probably been loved. His eyes were wet as he methodically began checking the corpse for identification.
    Jango muttered to the un-hearing body. “I am sorry this happened to you, dude, but if it’s between you eating me, and me living another day, it’s no choice at all.”
    He finally found a wallet, and removed the man’s driver’s license from the clear plastic holder within. “John Davies, huh, I won’t forget you, man, not ever.”

Chapter 8:
    Shotguns, Pistols, and Rifles…Oh My!
     
    “Glergle-gurg-sploop,” Jango’s stomach protested its emptiness out-loud again.Jango muttered to his stomach, “Yeah. Yeah, just hold your horses.”
    As he walked away from the courthouse, Jango tried to remember where he had seen a grocery store. He couldn’t remember exactly, but he thought it might have been a Fried’s Food Store, and that it might be west. He was honest enough with himself to know he was really only guessing as to the direction of the store, but he was also mentally ill enough to just not care. He would make a choice based on what he thought was right at any given moment, and with the stone-crazy resolve that only fanatics and lunatics usually possess, he would stay that course until he decided otherwise, or until he died.
    As he walked back out on to