Book of the Dead: A Zombie Anthology Read Online Free

Her heart felt like a hammer trying to smash its way out of her chest.
    “No,” she gasped. “Please.”
    He smiled. “I knew you’d get around to begging.”
    “I never did anything to you.”
    “But you’re about to do something for me.”
    The knife moved in. She felt its cool blade on her skin, but it didn’t hurt. It didn’t cut. Not Jean. It cut her clothes instead—the straps of her bra, the sleeves of her blouse, the waistband of her skirt.
    He took the clothes to the fire.
    “No! Don’t!”
    He smiled and dropped them onto the flames. “You won’t need them. You’l be staying right here. Here in the mess hal .”
    Somewhere in the distance, a coyote howled.
    “That’s my friend. We’ve got an arrangement. I leave a meal for him and his forest friends, and they do the cleanup for me. None of this ‘shal ow grave’ nonsense. I just leave you here, tomorrow you’l be gone. They’l come like the good, hungry troops they are, and leave the area neat and tidy for next time. No fuss, no bother. And you, sweet thing, wil be spared the embarrassment of returning to campus bare-ass.”
    Squatting beside the fire, he opened the toolbox. He took out pliers and a screwdriver. He set the pliers on the flat top of a rock. He picked up the screwdriver. Its shank was black even before he held it over the fire. Jean saw the flames curl around it.
    “No!” she cried out, “Please!”
    “No! Please!” he mimicked. Smiling, he rol ed the screwdriver in his hand. “Think it’s done yet?”
    He shook his head. “Give it a few more minutes. No need to rush. Are you savoring the anticipation?”
    “You bastard!”
    “Is that any way to talk?”
    “HELP!” she shouted. “HELP! PLEASE, HELP ME!”
    “Nobody’s going to hear you but the coyotes.”
    “ You can’t do this! ”
    “Sure, I can. Done it plenty of times before.”
    “Please! I’l do anything!”
    “I know just what you’l do. Scream, twitch, cry, kick, beg, drool… bleed. Not necessarily in that order, of course.”
    He stood up. Pliers in one hand, screwdriver in the other, he walked slowly toward Jean. Wisps of pale smoke rose off the shank of the screwdriver.
    He stopped in front of her. “Now where oh where shal we begin? So many choice areas to choose from.” He raised the screwdriver toward her left eye. Jean jerked her head aside. The tip moved closer. She shut her eye. Felt heat against its lid. But the heat faded. “No. I’l save that for later. After al , half the fun for you wil be watching.”
    She shrieked and flinched rigid as something seared her bel y.
    The Reaper laughed.
    She looked down. He had simply touched her with the nose of the pliers.
    “Power of suggestion,” he said. “Now, let’s see how you like some real pain.”
    Slowly he moved the screwdriver toward her left breast. Jean tried to jerk away, but the handcuffs stopped her. She kicked out. He twisted away. As the edge of her shoe glanced off his hip, he stroked her thigh with the screwdriver. She squealed.
    He grinned. “Don’t do that again, honey, or I might get mean.”
    Sobbing, she watched him inch the screwdriver toward her breast again. “No. Don’t. Pleeease.”
    A rock struck the side of the Reaper’s head. It knocked his head sideways, bounced off, scraped Jean’s armpit, and fel . He stood there for a moment, then dropped to his knees and slumped forward, face pressing against Jean’s groin. She twisted away, and he flopped beside her.
    She gazed down at him, hardly able to believe he was actual y sprawled there. Maybe she’d passed out and this was no more than a wild fantasy. She was dreaming and pretty soon she would come to with a burst of pain and…
    No, she thought. It can’t be a dream. Please.
    A dim corner of her mind whispered, I knew I’d get out of this .
    She looked for the rock thrower.
    And spotted a dim shape standing beside a tree on the far side of the clearing.
    “You got him!” she shouted. “Thank God,