Anything Can Be Dangerous by Matt Hults Read Free Book Online

paused in their activity.
    Greg staggered away from the edge of
the building, almost fell. Trembling, he raised the camera and
snapped off as many shots as the film cartridge held, then raced
back to the ladder and down to the ground, where Mia waited with
the motorcycle.
    “ What the hell was that?”
she pleaded as he slid onto the seat.
    But Greg only managed a shake of his
head as his mind raced to figure out how to reach the police or the
military or whoever could blow up that building and destroy
whatever hellish beast was growing inside.
    He cranked the engine, opened the
throttle, and they sped away.
    Behind them, the trucks went on to
make their deliveries.
     
    * * *
     
     
    FEEDING FRENZY
     
    This story can be found in the
anthology:
    BEST
NEW ZOMBIE TALES (Vol. 1)
     
    The restaurant stood less than forty
feet away, small and unimpressive in comparison to the encompassing
forest landscape, but also the blackest thing in sight on an
otherwise bright and sunny day.
    Ron parked the rental car just outside
the entrance to the parking lot, pulling to a stop amid a small
pile of animal bones that crunched beneath the tires.
    He switched off the engine. “Not
exactly the first impression I was hoping for,” he said.
    Beside him, Greg seemed undeterred.
Minus his beer-gut and his rapidly receding hairline, the older man
looked like a six-year-old kid on a jackpot Christmas morning.
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “They told me the property was
a little messy. Look at the building, though! Are you sure this is
the right address?”
    Ron nodded to the realty sign standing
to the left. “This is the place, all right.”
    “ Jeez… It’s in great
shape!”
    Maybe, maybe
not , Ron thought, but he decided to hold his tongue.
They were already falling into their usual mode of operation, Greg
seeking out the sweet deal while Ron remained ever-watchful for the
lemon that could sour it.
    They got out of the car.
    Outside, the smell of dry oak leaves
instantly enveloped them. Ron drew in a long breath of it,
cleansing the stink of the rental company’s pine-scented air
freshener from his sinuses. He glanced behind them, to the dirt
lane that tethered the old restaurant to the highway, frowning at
the distance. It couldn’t have measured more than fifty yards in
length—he spotted traffic blinking between the trees—but the
silence here made it seem immeasurably farther than it
looked.
    “ It’s kind of
out-of-the-way, don’t you think?” he asked.
    Greg had already reached the building
and was tugging at the locked doors. He glanced over his shoulder.
“Are you kidding? This is a prime location. We’re surrounded by
farmland and national forest. We’ll get all the traffic between
Brainerd and Clearwater Creek. Cut down some of those trees and we
can put up a sign that’ll practically be on the
highway!”
    Farmland and
forest , Ron thought, but again he kept his comments to
himself.
    “ The realtor must be
running late, huh?” Greg asked. He cupped both hands over his face
and leaned forward, trying to find a chink in the plywood armor
that covered the building’s windows.
    Ron strolled across the lot. He
studied the dimensions of the restaurant, guessing that the
original owner had attempted to emulate the layout of a traditional
fast-food business but with a slightly higher-scale motif, to set
it apart from the larger chains that dominated North America’s
roadways.
    He’d never seen a fast-food joint with
a black slate-shingled roof and widow’s walk. Or wrought iron
lampposts shaped to resemble a cluster of entwined tentacles.
Still, despite its unorthodox appearance, Ron thought the building
looked good and sturdy. That, coupled with the rock-bottom price
tag, opened a world of possibilities for improvements.
Nevertheless, he didn’t want to get too excited too
fast.
    Greg joined him as he made his way
around the side of the building to get a look at the
back.
    “ You said this was