The Crossing: A Zombie Novella by Joe McKinney Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Joe McKinney
Tags: Zombies
McKinney has been a patrol officer for the San Antonio Police Department, a homicide detective, a disaster mitigation specialist, a patrol commander, and a successful novelist. His books include the four part Dead World series, Quarantined, and Dodging Bullets. His short fiction has been collected in The Red Empire and Other Stories and in Dating in Dead World and Other Stories. For more information go to http://joemckinney.wordpress.com
We hope you enjoyed The Crossing . Joe McKinney and Print Is Dead will reteam in April of 2012 for Dating in Dead World: The Collected Zombie Stories, Volume One .
Read on for exciting previews of other thrilling Print Is Dead titles…
PREVIEW
PRAY TO STAY DEAD: A ZOMBIE NOVEL
By Mason James Cole
1974.
The Summer of Love is a fading memory, the Cold War rages on, Richard M. Nixon is barely holding onto the Presidency, and the dead are returning to life.
Five friends on their way to a week at Lake Tahoe, a Vietnam veteran in Sacramento trying to get home to his daughter in New Mexico, an older couple idling in a dusty shop in the hills, and a dangerous man who has spent twenty years preparing his strange family for the end of the world...
As civilization collapses, these scattered survivors cross paths, and the hungry dead are the least of the horrors unleashed.
Those who die will walk.
Those who live will hope for a quick death, and they will pray to stay dead .
"A brutally entertaining collision of zombie thriller and grindhouse action. Not for the faint of heart!"
Jonathan Maberry, New York Times bestselling author of Patient Zero and The Dragon Factory
“ Pray to Stay Dead is a revelation, one of those books that reminds you why you liked the genre in the first place… buy it, buy it, buy it.”
Alex Riviello, BADASS DIGEST
“ Jesus,” he said, leaning across the counter and looking Eddie Proust in the eye. “This is a bad idea, man. You’re messing up big time.”
“ This is America is what it is,” Proust said, sliding his holstered gun onto his belt. “A lot might be changing out there, but that hasn’t.”
“ Damn,” Cardo said, putting the customer service desk between himself and the entrance. Proust’s boys carried shotguns in plain sight of the people pressed against the glass storefront. They’d paraded them around for the last five minutes, after Proust let them know the doors were opening in ten. He’d given the crowd time to spread the word.
“ Open up,” Proust said a few minutes later, and his son did. They filed in, giving the shotgun a wide berth, looking around, eyes wide. There was a Proust family member stationed the head of every aisle, each carrying a gun.
“ Hey, Troy,” Eddie Proust said as Troy Matthews walked by and picked up a can of kerosene. Proust smiled as if it were any old day. Matthews looked dazed. There was a spot of blood on his cheek.
Bodies pressed in, and Cardo backed away. Tasgal and Clark were outside. He saw flashes of them between the jostled forms pouring into the store. They wouldn’t be able to do a damned thing. Cardo looked behind him, down the empty aisle and toward the back of the store. Wouldn’t be long now before someone noticed the prices.
“ Oh, come on, Eddie,” a short man with close-cropped red hair and a nose that seemed too small for his face yelled, indignant. “This is ridiculous.”
“ I’m sorry, Keith, it’s just business,” Proust said, speaking to the short man in the same tough-luck tone he probably used on folks who tried to get a refund on an open box of detergent. “You know as well as I do that the trucks aren’t coming anytime soon. This is—”
Everyone yelled at once, and then the little redhead lifted his arm. There was a muffled pop, and the back of Eddie Proust’s head flapped open as if on a spring-loaded hinge. The crowd surged. By the time the
We hope you enjoyed The Crossing . Joe McKinney and Print Is Dead will reteam in April of 2012 for Dating in Dead World: The Collected Zombie Stories, Volume One .
Read on for exciting previews of other thrilling Print Is Dead titles…
PREVIEW
PRAY TO STAY DEAD: A ZOMBIE NOVEL
By Mason James Cole
1974.
The Summer of Love is a fading memory, the Cold War rages on, Richard M. Nixon is barely holding onto the Presidency, and the dead are returning to life.
Five friends on their way to a week at Lake Tahoe, a Vietnam veteran in Sacramento trying to get home to his daughter in New Mexico, an older couple idling in a dusty shop in the hills, and a dangerous man who has spent twenty years preparing his strange family for the end of the world...
As civilization collapses, these scattered survivors cross paths, and the hungry dead are the least of the horrors unleashed.
Those who die will walk.
Those who live will hope for a quick death, and they will pray to stay dead .
"A brutally entertaining collision of zombie thriller and grindhouse action. Not for the faint of heart!"
Jonathan Maberry, New York Times bestselling author of Patient Zero and The Dragon Factory
“ Pray to Stay Dead is a revelation, one of those books that reminds you why you liked the genre in the first place… buy it, buy it, buy it.”
Alex Riviello, BADASS DIGEST
“ Jesus,” he said, leaning across the counter and looking Eddie Proust in the eye. “This is a bad idea, man. You’re messing up big time.”
“ This is America is what it is,” Proust said, sliding his holstered gun onto his belt. “A lot might be changing out there, but that hasn’t.”
“ Damn,” Cardo said, putting the customer service desk between himself and the entrance. Proust’s boys carried shotguns in plain sight of the people pressed against the glass storefront. They’d paraded them around for the last five minutes, after Proust let them know the doors were opening in ten. He’d given the crowd time to spread the word.
“ Open up,” Proust said a few minutes later, and his son did. They filed in, giving the shotgun a wide berth, looking around, eyes wide. There was a Proust family member stationed the head of every aisle, each carrying a gun.
“ Hey, Troy,” Eddie Proust said as Troy Matthews walked by and picked up a can of kerosene. Proust smiled as if it were any old day. Matthews looked dazed. There was a spot of blood on his cheek.
Bodies pressed in, and Cardo backed away. Tasgal and Clark were outside. He saw flashes of them between the jostled forms pouring into the store. They wouldn’t be able to do a damned thing. Cardo looked behind him, down the empty aisle and toward the back of the store. Wouldn’t be long now before someone noticed the prices.
“ Oh, come on, Eddie,” a short man with close-cropped red hair and a nose that seemed too small for his face yelled, indignant. “This is ridiculous.”
“ I’m sorry, Keith, it’s just business,” Proust said, speaking to the short man in the same tough-luck tone he probably used on folks who tried to get a refund on an open box of detergent. “You know as well as I do that the trucks aren’t coming anytime soon. This is—”
Everyone yelled at once, and then the little redhead lifted his arm. There was a muffled pop, and the back of Eddie Proust’s head flapped open as if on a spring-loaded hinge. The crowd surged. By the time the
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