Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 9): Frayed by Shawn Chesser Read Free Book Online

shoulder in the direction where the
surplus Chevy was parked.
    “Because, Ray,” Dregan said calmly. “ That vehicle was
stripped of supplies. Food. Ammunition. Their packs and weapons.”
    “Could have been the bandits from up North,” said Helen, the
bun of hair on back of her head coming loose and bouncing with each nod of her
head. “I told you that the woman and kids were just out hunting for medical
supplies for her daughter.”
    “Yes … you … did,” said Dregan. “And to your credit, that
story hasn’t changed. But those people”—he clucked his tongue and looked Helen
in the eye—“they were the only ones in the vicinity when the crime occurred.
And the Judge says that’s sufficient evidence to bring them to trial.”
    “Can’t you just give them the benefit of the doubt?”
    “No, Helen, I can’t. I’ve never believed in coincidence. And
blood … it’s always been thicker than benefit of the doubt.”
    Helen pulled a chair in from the dining room, sat down and
stared up at the bearded man leaning against the doorjamb. “If they do come
back and we call you, what are you planning on doing with them?”
    Dregan said. “ I plan on letting my gut be the judge
and jury—”
    Helen finished “—and executioner.” She pursed her lips, eyes
unwavering.
    The big man nodded. “Magdalena was my baby girl. If
it comes to that, I’ll make sure the punishment surpasses the crime.”
    Switzerland , thought Helen. She said, “We have the CB
you left us.” She steepled her fingers and looked into his blue eyes. “But
first we’ll let our guts decide whether we’re calling you or not.”
    Dregan smiled and turned back to face Ray, who had retrieved
the shotgun while Helen had the big man’s undivided attention. He stared down
and met Ray’s eyes. Then slowly lowered his gaze to the shotgun aimed at his
gut. “I can’t commute a sentence If I’ve no gut to listen to.” He reached out
and with one finger gently moved the barrel a few degrees right until the blast
would destroy the plastic-ensconced porch door and not his breadbasket.
    Ray didn’t reacquire.
    Détente, thought Dregan. He was still alive. So he
reached inside a pocket, slowly, and came out with a package of batteries,
which he tossed onto the cutting board. “For the radio. Just in case for some
reason it’s not working when they return.”
    Ray’s eyes narrowed, then he handed over the sizeable brick
of ammunition they’d promised the self-professed propane baron of Salt Lake
City.
    Butcher knife now in hand, Helen smiled and motioned with it
toward the front door. “Thanks for the propane. Best not forget your pie on the
way out, sweetie.”

Chapter 5
     
     
    The single-car garage was nearly empty and illuminated only
by slivers of flat light working their way between the horizontal slats of a
set of aluminum blinds. The owner of the house, definitely not a car guy, used
the space exclusively for storing lawn beautification and gardening items. A
workbench was covered with bags of fertilizer and other growth aids, all
emblazoned with big colorful eye-catching font touting optimal PH levels and
assorted added minerals and the like. No use. However, there were
several tired-looking boxes, stressed and filled to overflowing with scores of
small packets filled with all manner of seeds. Upon closer inspection, Cade was
displeased to find the ratio of flowers and vegetables leaning more towards the
latter column.
    Under the bench was a lawnmower, trimmer, rusted rototiller
and industrial-sized plastic spray bottles with marks for calculating
measurements and handled pumps for pressurizing the mix. Save for the meager
supply of vegetable seeds which got dumped into the pack, and a nearly full
fifty-five-pound bag of dry dog food which Max had shown keen interest in and
Cade had promptly heaved over his shoulder, there was nothing else of use to
either of them.
    Recalling some items not on the list but logged into his
memory