Zombie Dawn II: A Zombie Apocalypse Sequel by J.A. Crowley Page B

approached, gripping Lehman’s axe
in one hand.  He was fully aroused, at least by his modest standards.  I could
not believe that he could do this after what had just happened.  But I knew
that  he would not do it to me.
    I held the blade to my throat. 
Santos stopped, with a confused look on his face.  I had somehow gained the
upper hand.  His little plan did not work with me dead.  I looked around, and
noticed Sadie and Luis just beginning to stir.  I cut myself a bit to distract
Santos, who gasped when he saw the blood flow.  Probably a deeper cut than I
intended, because I started to gray out.

 
    36:       Mike’s
Journal—Just In Time
    Ian and I ran as fast as we could
down to Santos’ compound.  We found a total bloodbath.  A bloody guy, looked
like Macias, dead or unconscious outside the door.  My dad, apparently dead, on
the floor with Lehman and Darius, who were clearly dead.  Lehman had fouled
himself in death and the smell was appalling.
    A dead woman and another almost dead
woman slumped against the wall.  Santos, standing frozen, his back to the door,
with an axe in his hand.  And my mother, naked on a bed, holding something to
her throat, presumably a blade based on the blood sheeting from a cut on her
neck.  This tableau was enough to fuck you up for life, unless you had the
advantage of already being fucked up for life.
    Ian and I didn’t even hesitate.  Ian
moved to the left so that he could shoot at Santos without hitting my Mom.  I
moved to the right.  My angle was not as good and a miss or through-shot could
have hit Mom, so I went for the legs.  Ian blasted Santos in the back with five
loads of buck as I shot him in the ass with a full fifteen round magazine. 
Most of this was after Santos was already on the floor.  I reloaded and emptied
a full magazine into his head and neck just to be sure.  When we were done,
there were more holes than Santos remaining.

 
    37:       The
Mop Up
    Afterwards, Mike and Ian, exhausted
beyond exhaustion, slowly mopped up.  Ian field dressed the huge hole in Mike’s
face as a temporary fix to staunch the bleeding.  He held Mike’s face together
with field dressings and duct tape, knowing that the scarring would be heinous.
    Except for a few humans, most of whom
Mike allowed to leave under threat of death if they ever approached the Farm or
any of its citizens, they killed everything that moved.  Any backtalk, any
hesitation, and they mowed the humans down.  No mercy.
    Actually, there were two exceptions. 
Kate insisted that Luis and Sadie not be killed, and in fact that they be
allowed to return to the Farm.  Mike shook his head but relented, figuring that
Luis would die from his injuries anyway.
    All of the brains, wolves, and
shamblers who had remained were killed.  All of the babies in the nursery were ended. 
Ian and Mike noted, though, that some of the cribs were empty.
    They killed several of the Inner Core,
who were sort of dazed and powerless after the deaths of Santos and Mariana.  Some
type of psychic link had been cut.  But they knew that some of the Core, some
of the brains, and many lower zombies had escaped.   As always, there had just been
too many to kill.  
    As he dug through a pile of the dead,
looking for survivors to kill, Ian heard a gasping moan.  He dug deeper.  It
was Marvel.
    “Of all of the fucking assholes to
survive, I can’t believe Marvel did!” exclaimed Mike.
    “Yeah, we have rednecks in Britain,
too,” chuckled Ian.  “They’re always the last to die.  Want me to do it?”
    Mike thought for a bit, then replied,
“Let him live.  At the end, he tried to be a human.  He regrets what he’s
done.”
    Marvel cowered at Mike’s knee,
hugging and begging forgiveness.  “I’ll do anything you want.  Anything.  Just
tell me.  Please, please.  Don’t send me away.”
    Mike struck him across the face,
using his open hand. Once, twice, three times.  “Get out, Marvel.