All Hell by Allan Burd Read Free Book Online

different depths. In the mud , I spot a brown strand with a reddish cast. It had to have belonged to Fire. “Hell Pack’s been here. They went this way.” I nod in the proper direction and Sidekick follows, though I’m beginning to feel that he wasn’t anyone’s sidekick. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m his.
    We walk for a bit. Some scratches in a tree catch my eye. One of Hell Pack must’ve marked it on the way… probably without even thinking about it. I hear a faint hiss and glance up. Sidekick’s leaning against a tree. Above him, a snake is slithering down for the kill. I pull out a dagger, fling it with expert accuracy, and it plunges through the head of the snake just as it’s about to strike, pinning it to the tree right beside Sidekick’s neck. Yet, despite the sharp blade through its brain, it’s still flailing around like a stuck pig. I’m amazed. Here we were next to a graveyard and nothing seems to die.
    “You’re welcome,” I say.
    “Wasn’t a concern,” Sidekick responds, just as another snake lashes out whip-like at him from above. Without looking, Sidekick reaches up and crushes its head in his paw. “Nice to see you care though.” Then Sidekick’s standing tall on his hinds, sniffing the air like a hound dog. “We’re close. I can smell the rotted human flesh. Past that ridge. Keep your eyes peeled. The main event is coming.”
    The way the bastar d grins unnerves me. Like he knows all the secrets and enjoys keeping me in the dark. But based on what I’d seen so far and where we were headed, I had a fairly good idea what was coming next.

    Chapter 11
     
    We reach the tree line with sunrise just minutes away. The graveyard looms large before us, carrying on for as long as the eye can see. Tombstones are spread out like a mile-long cornfield, their granite exteriors weathered, tilted, and broken from years of neglect. An eerie crimson haze hovers menacingly above, like a coating of blood on the sky. I notice a partial paw print on the nearest grave and follow it onto the hallowed ground.
    We walk forward, following the faint trail left by Hell Pack, the stench of human remains and decay growing thicker with every step. Despite the morning dew, the rotted grass crackles under my feet, as if it’s as dead as everything else here. As we make our way deeper, rows of granite dominate the view, like we’re in the middle of a spider’s web and the graves are the threads that spiral out in all directions. The sun peeks out behind the mountains to my west, casting an all-encompassing shadow, and it dawns on me that this just might be the one true Valley of Death.
    “Fear no evil,” I mutter.
    “Losing your balls?” prods Sidekick.
    I reload and recheck the SD9 and make sure I have easy access to my machete. “Getting ready to protect ‘em,” I answer. The entire place reeks of evil, like a thick invisible cloud that sends every fiber of my being into overdrive. The hairs on the back of my neck stand out like antennae. “This place must be God’s cesspool,” I comment, eyes darting about. I catch a whiff of sulfur in the air.
    Sidekick smells it too. He’s on his hinds, tiptoed, sniffing the air like it’s a cool summer breeze. He stops, gazes at me hard. “Actually, it’s Hell’s beach front property,” he says with a pointy ear to pointy ear grin. “Get ready. Here they come.”
    I look around and don’t see anything. But that’s to be expected. The zombies will be coming from beneath. Yet, despite the fact I’m ready for ‘em, something grabs my ankle before I react. I look down and see rotted flesh hanging from bony fingers that grip me. The zombie’s other arm punches through the dirt. It bends at the elbow, and I don’t plan on being here when it fully pushes itself free. I hack the wrist until it severs and jump back, prying the dead fingers off me by hand. I’m eye level with the head that emerges. It’s worn and gray with a few straggles of tangled blond