Regurgitated (Book 2) (The Filthy Apocalypse) by Dick Gear Read Free Book Online Page B

“Danny, what the fuck was that?”
    “I don’t have time for this, Ted. Not now. I have to go to the bathroom.”
    He stops me as I’m about to go inside. “Tell me what’s wrong. Are you still mad at me for pissing myself?”
    I look down and see his pants are still wet with urine. “No. I forgot about that, actually. You should ask Shep if he has a pair of pants you can borrow, though.”
    “I’ll just take them from his dresser. He’s a little bitch about his clothes and stuff, I doubt he’d even let me borrow any.”
    I nod my head, tired and wanting to check the progress of my bite. “I really gotta take a dump, bro. See you in a minute.”
    “Hey, what’s that on your sleeve?” Teddy asks loudly, pointing to the wet blood.
    I look down. “Oh, that’s just…I spilled some shit on myself when I was fighting those zombies in the supermarket.”
    His eyes narrow and I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “Dude, I can see…there’s like a rip in your shirt right there. Did you get…you know…did one of those fucking zombies…” his voice trails off.
    “Fuck.” I shake my head and pull him into the bathroom with me, shut the door.
    The yellow florescent lights make both of us appear sickly and pale. “Teddy, you better keep your mouth shut about this.”
    “You got bit, dude?” His eyes practically bug out of his head.
    I pull my shirt off and show him. “Yeah. Thanks to you, dickhead.”
    “Thanks to me? What did I do?”
    “You left me in that store, asshole. I had to fight four of those things off so that Shep and Fergi could get away. And while I was trying to escape, one of them took a nibble.” I look down at my wound. It’s red, inflamed, and still dripping blood.
    Teddy backs away from me like I’m possessed. “Dude. That’s…that’s like really bad, man. Do you know what this means?”
    “Yes. I’m going to become one of them.” I glare at him. “But I’m not one of them yet.”
    “Are you feeling hungry though? Like, do I look tasty at all to you right now?”
    I shrug. “No. But I’m sure once I turn, you’ll look like a chicken parm sub.”
    “Holy shit. What will Verne say—“
    I take a small step towards him and he puts his arms up, like I’m a vampire coming to suck his blood.
    “Verne’s not going to say shit, because nobody’s telling him that I’m infected.
    Right?”
    Teddy’s still got his arms up to ward me off. “Nobody’s going to say shit.”
    “You say a word, I’ll make sure to eat you first, Ted. I don’t care how hungry I am and who’s around. I’ll hunt you down and eat you first. I think you’d make a tasty appetizer.”
    “I said I’m not going to tell. Don’t hurt me, Danny.”
    I relent, turning away from him and examining my wound in the mirror. “It’s not even that bad,” I say.
    “Maybe you should put something on it. Bactine.”
    “Oh, yeah. I’m sure a little Bactine will kill all the zombie viruses swimming around in there.”
    “You never know.”
    I look at him in the mirror. “You go get yourself some pants from Shep’s room.
    While you’re at it, get me a new shirt to put on. Make it something generic so he doesn’t notice I’ve got his stuff on. Like a gray sweatshirt or something.”
    Teddy nods stiffly. “Sure. I can do that.”
    “And you keep quiet.”
    He scurries out of the bathroom. I continue examining my wound, touching it lightly. It burns and aches like any injury, but it doesn’t seem worse than it should. Then again, I don’t know how a zombie infected wound differs from an ordinary wound.
    Maybe it doesn’t.
    A few minutes later, Teddy returns with a gray long sleeve shirt for me to put on.
    I shove my old shirt under the sink, way in the back and put on the new one.
    “You’re still wearing your piss pants,” I say, pointing to his soiled trousers.
    “His stuff doesn’t fit me,” Teddy complains. “He’s got a size thirty-three waist and I’m a thirty-five.”
    “You need to