by Javan Bonds
“We’re about to have some fun detective! I won’t be disappointed this time.” Insanely laughing, he grabbed Sako by his uninjured leg, heaving the dead weight with his remaining arm, in the direction of the running machine.
Straining to lift the detective on the table at the mouth of the waiting wood chipper, he paused to catch his breath and build his anticipation “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” The preacher snickered, walking over to an empty wheelbarrow, working it in front of the chute to catch anything expelled.
Though fully aware, the Staff Sergeant was just now able to open his eyes and move his mouth around. His body was becoming acclimated to the injected toxin. The whirring motor was somewhere below his feet. Oh my God! Really? Feet first?
As The Wolf purposely stepped into his field of vision, Hirotaro Sako spoke with all the defiance and conviction he could muster. “What are you waiting for?”
Momentarily silent, the preacher walked to the end of the table and began moving the detective’s legs into position. “Do it!” Sako screamed through his impotence.
No matter how hard he tried, he was unable to move a muscle. “Do it!” Sako’s eyes were growing wet.
The last intelligible words of The Sacrifice came out in a roar. “DO IT!”
His feet dropped into the wood chipper.
Certainly, Hirotaro wanted to scream incomprehensibly, but he forced himself to make absolutely no sound. Just like his ancestors in ceremonial seppuku, he remained utterly silent, as not to dishonor his family. The Wolf was infuriated not being able to enjoy his final screams, attempting to take pleasure in imagining the uncontrollable wailing of the sacrifice.
The whirring of the wood chipper slowed when reaching the abdomen. The meatiness of organs, excess amount of blood and bone, thickness of muscle, and overall mass caused the motor to bog down nearly. It was almost to the point of grinding his cardiac muscle into a sloppy mush, ending his torment. Only a few more eternal seconds of unimaginable torture and everything will stop. After this, I will gain my place among my ancestors.
With only a quarter of the body remaining intact, it squished slowly into the machine. When Sako’s clenched jaw and set eyes went slack and lifeless, Mike understood; The Sacrifice was finished. Continually ripping and grinding flesh, the chipper completed the task. There was no excitement, no exhilaration, and no pleasure to be taken from a heinous act that should have been unbelievably satisfying to The Wolf. Sako steadfastly refused to give in to him or the pain. A hero to the end.
☠☠☠
Brother Brown leaned against a table, thoroughly disappointed. Walking to kill the motor of the now empty wood chipper, he slowly blinked, taking in the scene. Blood dripped from the wheelbarrow now full of ground up meat. He stepped back trying to take in and fully understand everything that just happened. That kid, Hunter. Goddammit, it’s gone! Well, I’m going to have to do some smooth talking to get out of this shit.
The realization that he lost his arm in the fight was just coming to him. Turning he bent over to pick up the severed arm. Tossing the cooled appendage into the chipper, he waited for it to finish grinding before finally turning it off. He shrugged mumbling to himself. “Ah well, all those stupid sheep think I‘m fucking magic anyway. Christ knows what they’d do if I told them they were eating me!”
Swimmy headed, he glanced up at the door to the house and urgently yelled for The Alpha. “Hey, Lauren? I’m hurt! And I’m going to need some help! Quick!” Maybe it was the blood loss making him goofy, but he giggled and added. “Oh, and do you think my faithful followers would like some Asian food?”
Postlude
We sat around the table, waiting for my father to buzz the radio. I was uncharacteristically excited to give him news of what had been going on. All the shit with Festus would need to be discussed, the pirates and how we dealt with them, and of course, I would have to inform him I’m now a badass that shot a fucking cannon. I was itching to tell everyone that would listen about my new mad skills.
I guesstimated it was at least a minute past the scheduled time. Hesitating, I decided to speak into the radio. “Daddy?” There was no way in hell I would use his call sign if that’s what he was waiting for.
“Elmo?” a teary female voice came from the other end.
I was confused. “Mama? Where’s Daddy?” I didn’t want to seem like an asshole and quickly made an addition. “And what’s wrong?”
I was beyond surprised my mom was even able to use the radio. She cannot use any kind of technology even though she claims to be a computer whiz at least when she is not around me. She turns into a blind and illiterate old lady when she gets on the computer in front of me. It’s immeasurably painful to watch her try and load up a Word document or, God forbid, pay a fucking bill online. I would rather kill myself than try to convince my mother that there is a big, flashing button in the middle of the screen. Even though it was there when I looked at the computer five seconds ago, she will swear that “it’s not there now.”
She sniffled. “He’s down at the police station being questioned.”
I waited for more of an explanation and received nothing. “Questioned for?”
It must have been the emotions breaking her train of thought. “He’s a suspect.”
I was shocked. “Suspect of what?”
She seemed disjointed as if she wasn’t thinking clearly. “Where is Eugene?”
I broke away from the radio and spoke to the crew. “Somebody go get Gene! He’s probably downstairs watching Charmed again.”
I turned back to the HAM. “He’s coming. What’s up?”
“He’s got to know.”
I nearly tapped my foot. “Know what?” If they discovered Ark of the Covenant, I was going to be pissed if Gene gets to know before me.
She frantically wailed.
“HUNTER’S MISSING!”
To Be Continued….
The Following Is An Excerpt From Book 7 Of The Still Alive Series
A black stiletto spike slammed into the wall with a wet click. There was only a diseased, unclean, malnourished, blue skull between the ball of the foot and paneling. The fact that the pointed heel was sticking all the way through the eye socket, penetrating undead grey matter, and poking through the back of the cranium meant this would be the last time the peevie voided its bowels.
Humanity was obviously the victor of this battle. Amy Rice just wanted to untangle herself from her victim without having to get anything gross on her. In a bit of a hurry with several other starving nudists charging her, it was going to be messy. There was no way around it.
She pushed the ball of her foot forcefully against the wall. Leaking brain squished from every hole above the chin, making a small farting noise as the eggshell thin brain casing popped and crunched under her boot -like infected nacho chips. Now completely brain-dead, the reanimated waif went slack.
Somehow, it was hanging on a tiny spear sticking through the destroyed skull. Foot planted against the wall at shoulder height, she curled her knee and extended it, trying to get the corpse to relinquish its hold. After several attempts, nothing seemed to be working.
Like, what the hell? It’s totally stuck. It’s like the thing wants me to touch it, for reals! Guess I know what I have to do.
The blonde girl dressed as Elektra slid the katana from over her shoulder. With no time to waste, she quickly sliced her blade cleanly through the neck. The body toppled, oozing stinking crimson onto the floor. But the shattered and lifeless head still miraculously clung to the stiletto.
☠☠☠
Filling out her red skin tight suit perfectly, she continued her choreographed bloodletting. Her boyfriend, Benji, could have watched her bounce around all day. He even stayed a few steps behind and took on a few less enemies just so she would have more reason to move. He knew he probably should’ve felt somewhat guilty about giving the woman he loved more deadly work, but it was hard to feel anything other than...
Erect male
zombies were rushing the dancing bombshell. Their arousal was caused by a different kind of elation. It was exciting to see fresh, uninfected meat!
Amy’s foot disappeared from its position at a 180 degree horizontal angle. Instantaneously, it reappeared at ninety. The gutted cranium toppled, raining gore as it sailed through the air. If the monster’s truly dead mouth was able to scream, it would have been letting out a banshee cry.
For less than a heartbeat, the lips of the decapitated projectile met with the lips of a currently living reanimated corpse. Then, it exploded as it made full contact, sending rotten teeth, shards of bone, and remaining grey matter into its fellow.
Kiss of death.
The horrid meat bomb gave the ghoul reason to trip over its own excrement drenched feet. Expectedly, the starving cannibals in the same group tripped over their leader.
Posing little impediment to blunt force, the nutrition deprived brain casings exploded against hard concrete. Runny, grey tissue pooled on the floor, surrounded by cracked bones. The reanimates not lucky enough to meet their blue maker by injuring themselves irreparably merely broke legs, splintered hips, or shattered pelvises. True death would be coming soon, swiftly. One last moment of pain was required from these already damned souls.
Returning her katana to its sheath and pulling a sai from either thigh, Amy moved to begin dispatching the moaning, sobbing and defeated animals.
“Losers!”
☠☠☠
Before she had taken care of more than a couple, a figure in blue spandex entered from a closed-door. Outfitted as Captain America, Robert Coe saw what she was doing and leapt over to help. Fists clenched, he appeared to be dragging his knuckles like a blue Donkey Kong, running his razored brass knuckles, The Devil’s Pizza Cutter, over the throats of the downed infected. Esophageal cavities and arteries burst under slicing steel.
Wrenching her three-pronged dagger from another punctured deadhead, she sighed at her comrade, irritated. “I had it, dude! You think just because I’m a woman I’m, like, not as strong as you?”
Simplistically shrugging, the superhero flicked something dangling from his right hand. “Well no. I was just saving you some time, is all.”
They both stood as the helicopter pilot, Devin Landers, entered the room. Seeing Devin, in his Ghost Rider garb walk in, logging chain over his shoulder wet with fresh blood, got Benji moving. Giving a lopsided grin under his wide-rimmed Fedora, Benjamin Collins, dressed as Indiana Jones, spoke. “You think that’s it?”
Matter-of-factly, his fellow Navy pilot turned to him. “Hive’s clear. We can move!”
WATCH
FOR
STILL ALIVE
BOOK SEVEN
ZOMBIE
PERDITION
COMING LATER 2019
Cast of Characters
(Alphabetic)
Lauren Brown: supposed temporary replacement for The Medicine Man; The Alpha. Nurse practitioner, wife of The Wolf. Mastermind behind her husband’s crimes.
Mike Brown: supposed temporary replacement for The Man of God; The Wolf. Formerly in a federal penitentiary, claims to have been a member of The Mexican Mafia. Reformed criminal, now a working minister. Not trusted by main protagonists remaining in Guntersville. Discovered to be a cannibal, preys only on children.
Akambiya “Aka” Ngona Collins: Easy’s wife. Native of Zambia. Dam technician and Nursing degree (pending). Wears X-Men Storm outfit carries demonic halberd.
Benjamin “Benji” Collins: second cousin to Mo. Naval Flight Officer in command of Azrael 2, last known functioning AC-130 gunship. Arrived in Guntersville over a month after May Day to discover safety and close family. Wears Indiana Jones outfit, carries accompanying bull whip.
Debbie (Mrs.) Collins: The Hero’s Mother. Conservative Matriarch. Never uses nicknames.
Elmo “Mo” Collins: The Hero and Chronicler. Acting Captain of the Viva Ancora; Jack of No Trades. Wears Battlestar Galactica Cylon armor, carries Star Trek Klingon bat’leth.
Ezekiel “Easy” Collins: Mo’s brother, The Protector. Bodybuilder and extreme health enthusiast. Trainer, nursing degree (pending). Wears Marvel Iron Man armor, carries Warhammer 40,000 Thunderhammer.
Randy Collins: Leader of The Similar (Former). Mo’s Father, Interim Mayor of the Island of Guntersville; Survivalist. Wears Warmachine Storm Knight Armor, carries accompanying Storm Glaive.
Crow: Cook and Crewmate on the Viva Ancora. Permanent Resident Fisherwoman. Given name later discovered to be Rose.
Mahatma Doshi: Phantom HIT. Subordinate to Dr. George. Wears Star Wars Clone Trooper armor accented with black, carries traditional Indian axe knife, bhuj.
Bradley Gage: The Old Friend. National Champion Sharpshooter, Paraplegic Trainer and Bodybuilder. Wears Marvel Daredevil outfit, carries The Walking Dead Lucille, Negan’s Louisville Slugger wrapped in barbed wire.
Dr. Philip George: The Medicine Man, cardiologist. Commander, squad of Indian NSG Phantom HITs. Sniper. Wears Star Wars Darth Vader armor complete with voice changer, carries medieval style, double-headed mace.
Kumar Jindal: Phantom HIT. Subordinate to Dr. George. Wears Star Wars Clone Trooper armor accented with blue, carries traditional Indian curved sword, talwaar.
Devin Landers: Naval Flight Officer, copilot of Azrael 2, last known functioning AC-130 gunship. Arrived in Guntersville over a month after May Day to discover safety. Wears Marvel ghost Rider outfit, carries accompanying logging chain.
Roberto “Bob” Martinez: Temporary replacement for The Tech. Small Engine Mechanic, General Handyman. Born in Mexico. Member of The Similar (former). Spontaneously appeared in Guntersville after presumed dead.
Rajesh Mattu: Phantom HIT. Subordinate to Dr. George. Wears Star Wars Clone Trooper armor accented with green, carries a traditional Indian bladed trident, trishula.
Mary: The Innocent. Capuchin Monkey, Trained Service Animal (partnered with Bradley.) Clearly wise compared to most of the other characters. Carries Star Trek Romulan throwing dagger.
Sarah Ogle: The Love Interest. Longtime Friend and Love-of-His-Life to Mo. Finally in a romantic relationship with The Hero.
Sanjay Patel: Phantom HIT. Subordinate to Dr. George. Wears Star Wars Clone Trooper armor accented with red, carries traditional Indian push daggers, katar.
Amy Rice: rescued by and love interest of Benji. Longtime friend of and later betrayed by The Love Interest. Wears Marvel Elektra outfit, carries accompanying katana and sai.
Hirotaro Sako: temporary replacement for The Expert. Staff Sergeant, USMC (ret.) Amateur Survivalist, degree in Criminal Justice. Body Amplification Enthusiast. Wears Watchmen Rorschach outfit, carries traditional Japanese katana, Ivory, along with the accompanying tanto, Ebony.
Petunia “Hammer” Sledge: The Expert. Captain, U.S. Marine Corp, Special Ops (Ret). Owner Bottom Dollar Pawn; Extreme Survivalist. Wears Metroid Prime Samus armor, carries Lord of the Rings broadsword Andúril: The Flame of the West.
Cheryl Slice: The Dictator. Warden of the Joseph A. Davidson State Correctional Facility (Former.) Now infected peevie female with one goal in new life: devouring Ezekiel Collins.
Gene Stanley: The Tech. PhD Mechanical Engineering (pending); Owner, Excelsior Comics and Collectables; Collector of Fantasy/Science Fiction Memorabilia. Wears Fallout Brotherhood of Steel armor, carries X-Men Wolverine wrist blades.
Marlon “Smokes” Williamson: The Oracle. Gangbanger, Dope Dealer (Ret.), Pilot; Interpreter and Channeler of The Screenwriter.
Sojourner “Soje” Williamson: The Man of God, preacher. Patriarch of the Williamson Clan.
Forward
Right out of the gate, you know Javan’s story will be different. He has a keen eye for the absurd and sometimes his characters are laugh out loud funny, sometimes brain bashingly brutal. There’s not a whole lot of political correctness in his books and he has no qualms skewering all the sacred cows. If you’re laughing at something others would find a little offensive, keep reading. He’ll prob
ably get around to offending you later on so the others can laugh at your offense. It’s all in good fun.
I believe the stories resonate with his readers and fans because they are about everyday people making the best of the end of the world. No up armored gun bunnies with an apocalyptic stash of MRE’s and machine guns, no Tier One operators kicking ass while chewing bubble gum. Javan’s characters are slackers and posers, strong and weak, smart and dumb. Men and women. Black and white. Everyday people who got lucky and survived then got smart to stay alive.
If you’re reading this, you’ve probably already followed all of Mo and company’s adventures up to this point. I’m in the same pirate boat as you, I haven’t read the following adventure yet and I’m sure you’re anxious to get to it, not listen to me prattle on about how awesome Javan is. It’s been said that Southern men tell better jokes and Javan takes that skill and transfers it to the written page. Enjoy the adventure that awaits!
David A. Simpson
Author of the Zombie Road Series available on Amazon
Acknowledgments
If it weren’t for my parents, you wouldn’t be reading this book. They’re the reason I’m able to publish any of my work.
Thanks to my beta readers, Ed Clay, Pam Seabolt, Chris Smith, and Lissa Wiltshire. They’re the reason I sound like less of an idiot than I otherwise would.
Thanks to my final proof reader, Vanessa McCutcheon. I’m tempted to take her to Olive Garden for a margarita.
Thanks to David A Simpson, one of my heroes, really good friend, fellow country boy, and the author of the foreword for this book.
Thanks to Exist in Sin for giving me permission to use the lyrics to “Systematic Annihilation,” the perfect zombie killing anthem.
Thanks to my fellows in the zompoc world like Christopher Artinian, RR Haywood, and James Wallace. Their Audiobooks keep me entertained when I have some free time.