Assuming Room Temperature (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 3) by S.P. Durnin Read Free Book Online Page A

spun midair, then cut another one’s head off just above its eyeballs. The thing didn’t even realize three quarters of its brain was missing as it moved to take another step forward, and then fell dead to the street. What was left of the zombie’s grey matter spilled out over the asphalt, and closely resembled long-rancid stir-fry.
    The last was once a horribly thin woman, who’d favored ridiculously tight, lime-green hot pants. Kat blinked at the sight. If she hadn’t known better, the ninja-girl would’ve thought someone had dug up Karen Carpenter.
    Cho’s lip curled in disgust and she kicked the moldering scarecrow in the teeth. The forcefully-moving sole of her boot sent it flipping backwards, ass-over-teakettle. Kat was eager to end this little dance, so she sprang forward as the zombie got to its hands and knees, and then brought the tip of her grandfather’s sword down into the back of the creature’s head. Not many people knew that dead bone became brittle over time, but the pretty Asian did. The point of her katana passed easily through the rear of its skull, on into its dead brain, and exited through the zombies left eye. The thing collapsed and the she pulled her sword free with a satisfied flourish, sending old blood and moldy-smelling puss arcing out in a semi-circle around the limp corpse.
    Kat looked around for more opponents and, seeing none, called out to the others. “Clear!”
    “Clear!” Henry echoed, and stomped on the head of an infected he’d downed, just in case. It pulped under his heel like a stinky, stinky cantaloupe, coating the bottom of his yellowish work boot with brackish goop.
    Leo and Elle also confirmed the area free of infected, and the survivors began to come down from their adrenaline fueled high. They were getting better, Kat realized. When they’d first begun the little cross-country trek, it would’ve required everyone in their group to take on a pack of infected that large, just to be safe. Jake, along with Laurel, Allen, Maggie, and Foster had done it once while they’d been in Columbus. O’Connor and George Foster had both been through serious combat training at some point however, so that had made a big difference at the time. Now, Kat and her team had decimated an almost equally large group, sans any close calls or losses. It made her feel better about their chances of actually reaching still-distant Pecos, Texas safely.
    Who am I kidding? She thought, as she watched her companions reload their weapons. We’ll all probably still end up getting eaten too, eventually.
    Kat moved to kneel beside the Hummer and peered underneath the undercarriage cautiously. It seemed the girl had dropped to the pavement just prior to being smashed by the vehicle’s armored side. The lucky teenager still lay wide-eyed on the asphalt as she stared at the heavy steel, just six inches from the tip of her frightened nose. The girl didn’t look like she’d been injured in her brush with becoming a hood ornament, even if she was pretty grubby at that moment. Her face was smudged, her clothes carried multiple stains, and it looked like she hadn’t been able to wash her hair
for weeks.
    She was a wreck, basically.
    “Are you alright?” Kat asked, as she visually inspected the girl again for any protruding bones or widening puddles of blood. It was a miracle she hadn’t been pulped. “Are you hurt?”
    Other than looking at her the way a cornered animal would, the girl didn’t respond.
    Kat waved at her under the edge of the frame. “Hey. Um. You can come out now. We killed all the zombies, so they won’t—you know—be chasing you anymore.”
    The girl didn’t reply and retreated farther under the Humvee at Kat’s words, scooching away between the vehicle’s heavy axles.
    Sampson crossed his arms. “You scared her,” he chuckled.
    “If you think you can do better, feel free to bring your Jolly Green Giant butt down here and try,” Kat said, and wondered if she should try