Dead Highways (Book 3): Discord by Richard Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

east of our location. I think all of us were a little curious about that too. If anyone could handle himself under stress—and by handle himself, I mean go fucking nuts with pent-up rage—it was Aamod. But this time the odds were stacked sky-high against him, and I was sure soon enough the sound of gunfire would cease and Aamod would be gone. It was one man versus an army of undead, after all. However, for the moment—somehow, someway—the crazy bastard held his own.
    Another shot. Then two more.
    The third infected, a twenty-something black man wearing a crooked New Orleans Saints cap and a white shirt stained red by the constant drooling of blood from his mouth, seemed just as excited to pinpoint the source of the strange noise. He turned from the sidewalk and began shuffling toward us, his hazy gray eyes looking somewhere beyond, not noticing the six warm-fleshed beings lying directly in his path, flat against the green earth like a bunch of new age, fully-clothed sunbathers.
    I’m not sure anyone else in the group but me realized what was about to happen next, certainly not Naima, who was shielding her face with her hands. Once the zombie stumbled over her legs and fell down on top of her a second later, she took instant notice of him. And, oh yes, he noticed her too, going for her throat like a rabid vampire.
    Never had I ever heard someone scream so damn loud before in my life.
    Poor Naima, of all people. Aamod’s precious offspring. The Indian princess. The one person in the group without any sort of weapon. No way to defend herself.
    I should have at least attempted to warn her, but it had all happened so fast. Another few seconds of quiet and this guy would have passed us by. We’d have been in the clear. Instead, he was right next to us—right next to Naima —when the first shotgun blast sounded off, causing him to turn on a dime and change course. Aamod didn’t know it, but his timing sucked, and it could have led to the death of his daughter.
    Being the closest to Naima, I quickly sat up on my knees and tried to pull the infected man off her. The dead man snapped at me, nearly caught one of my fingers between his rotting teeth. I recoiled, saw the other two zombies a short distance away start to head back toward us. Peaches, watching me almost get bit, scurried back on her butt.
    “Don’t shoot, Jimmy!” Robinson shouted.
    Being quiet didn’t much matter at this point, given Naima’s constant repeating chorus of screams.
    I appreciated Robinson’s timely words of advice, but even I knew not to pull out Sally. Too dangerous. Too many other people in close proximity, right in the line of fire.
    I would use the bowie knife Ted gave me, if I could only get the stupid thing out of its sheath. The little snap holding it in place gave me a horrible headache. It didn’t help that I was nervous, overwhelmed, knowing someone’s fate was likely in my hands. I had to do something . The zombie straddling Naima was now inches from her face, dripping dark, thick red blood down on her.
    “Help!” she screamed, her voice breaking into a cry. “Please! Help!” Tears pooled in her eyes. She had her hands around its slimy neck trying to push it away. But the dead thing was relentless, determined to get her—to pass the infection on, keep the chain letter of death going strong. All it took was one bite. That was all.
    It failed.
    Having finally coerced my knife out of its sheath, I sent it into the side of the infected man’s head. The sharp blade went in fast and easy. The zombie’s lights went out even faster. When I pulled the knife back out, he fell forward onto Naima like the dead weight he was. Naima squirmed and rolled out from underneath him in a hurry, crying and coughing violently.
    Robinson and Ted took care of the other two zombies nearby and then ran back over to us attending to Naima.
    “Hey, are you okay?” I asked.
    “Oh God. Oh God. I think…” she trailed off, coughing.
    “She didn’t