Stung (Zombie Gentlemen) by K.A. Merikan Read Free Book Online Page A

he wanted. He would eventually
wither like Baldy or that poor creature next to him. And once he outlived his
usefulness, no one would care to protect him.
    “What do you think you can do?” Jacob sniggered
and laid down on his own cot. “There’s no way out. The guards are armed as
fuck, and there’s zombies all around the farm in the forest. And you know what?
I’ve seen people try to escape before. Most of them got shot and some came back
on their own," he went silent for dramatic effect, “as zombies.”
    “So?” Victor swallowed, leaning forward and
looking at the tired faces around him. Only now he realized many of the men
were already asleep, too tired to join the conversation. “Did anyone ever
return home after serving their sentence?”
    A man, who had to be in his late twenties but
looked much older due to the lack of fat on his body, shrugged, curling the
blanket much tighter around him. “No.”
    “So why don’t we try?” Victor swallowed around the
bile in his throat. “I don’t want to die here.”
    “I heard there is a way up. There’s a guard,
Sharpe, he used to be a prisoner. Years ago. From one of the first shipments
sent here,” said an older man whose looks suggested he might remember those
times. He turned to his stomach on the bunk across from Victor and cackled. “But
you, boy… You wouldn't make it--”
    Tompson interrupted him and dismissed his words
with a gesture, focusing on Victor and some of the other new arrivals who
flocked around them at the suggestion of freedom like moths drawn to fire.
“None of us want to die here or even lose our fuckin’ teeth.” He pointed at
Jacob, who just sneered. “Why wait till they tire us out. We’ll find a way out
and then protect each other in the forest. There’s twenty of us at least!”
    “That should work.” Victor licked his lips, eager
to take big, strong thugs with him. “It’s still warm, we could use spiked
stakes as weapons...” He trailed off and got to his feet, straightening to make
an impression on the other men. “I’d rather die trying than stay! This is not
life. Each and every one of you should recognize that.”
    Baldy shook his head, cackling. His jaw bobbed up
and down as if it was fastened on springs. “If you wanna die so badly, go ahead
and die. Be my guest!”
    Victor opened his mouth to answer, but was
interrupted by a banging on the door, which then continued along the wooden
wall of the barrack.
    “Sleep!” They heard a yell from the outside.
    The prisoners stirred, the sunken eyes of the
veterans flickering with fear, providing Victor with enough reason to shut his
mouth. He hurried to crawl into his bed before the last candles were blown out.
The man he shared the bunk with didn’t even flinch when Victor snuck his back
against him. He wasn’t sure what to think. Now, that he spoke his mind, it
occurred to him that there might be some people here willing to trade words for
food. Then again, the prisoners that have been here long, didn't consider
escape a valid option. Maybe it would have been wiser to speak to the men he
knew from today’s transport only?
    His eyes roamed through the darkness that hid the
source of coughs, snorts, and other animalistic sounds. No talking or
whispering, as if the mere thought of a guard overhearing a few sentences was
life threatening.
    Victor shifted as fear gripped his chest, refusing
to let go. That Jacob man only spent a month here, and already looked rugged,
his manly charms gone like the knocked out teeth. He refused to let that happen
to him, he’d rather die. He swallowed, closing his eyes in desperate need for
sleep after the exhausting day. Only it didn’t come quick enough.
     
    ***
     
    It seemed that Victor had only closed his eyes
minutes ago when a racket of metal hitting against the bunks roused him from
his slumber. His mind was still hazy when he heard voices that could only
belong to the guards, strong and healthy.
    “Up!”
    “Get