Flip This Zombie Read Online Free Page B

burst from the back of his head. He collapsed in a heap on the sidewalk. I kept my eye focused through the sight of the rifle and watched as, sure enough, the explosive sound of the gunfire echoing in the desert air brought zombies racing from the rubble in a wave of snarling, drooling, sludge-vomiting unison.
    “They’re coming for the on-ramp,” I said mildly as I pulled off another shot and dropped not one, but two when the bullet pierced rotting flesh so easily that it maintained its velocity and killing power.
    “Ten points for two,” Dave said without acknowledging my first statement. He was starting to sound less pissed now, as he always did when the killing started. Wewere a bloodthirsty little pair. What can I say? That MTV Generation thing might have had some validity.
    David kept the car barely rolling even as the mob of zombies panted and weaved their way up the off-ramp. On- and off-ramps, especially ones with steeper grades, always trip zombies up, sometimes literally. They just don’t have the mind power to figure them out, so it’s hilarious. Like watching really stupid chickens peck around in a fucked-up coop.
    Eventually, though, a hefty portion of the zombies I’d stirred up managed to make it up the hill and rolled toward us in an undead wave of arms (and lack of arms) and unkempt insanity.
    I fired off a couple more shots, this time faster since the zombie horde was closer than ever.
    “Any time now, sweetheart,” I said as I reloaded and fired a few more rounds.
    “Oh.” Dave said, as if he’d been distracted and forgotten he had the power to save our asses. “Sure.”
    He geared the van into reverse and backed up, spinning the wheel and slicing our back bumper through the mob in one clean motion. Zombies flew backward, smashing against each other only to pop back up, oblivious to the injuries to their dead bodies. They weaved toward us again like a limping collection of drunks to an overturned beer truck.
    We were facing the wrong way on the highway now… not that it mattered. You could flip donuts on the I-5 in L.A. now and not hit another car (not that we would be so reckless… oh
no
, not us). Dave geared us forward and slammed a few more zombies across our hood before he swerved around and sped off toward the camp.
    I heard dragging behind us, but after a while it faded. That happens a lot, actually. Zombie grabs your bumper, you speed off, find a dead broken zombie arm still clinging to the vehicle the next day. But it’s not like zombies have insurance, so why stop for the accident, right?
    “
That
was satisfying,” I said with a sigh as we angled off the highway toward Tempe. “
And
you can add more to your steering wheel killing count.”
    “Not as satisfying as it will be when I find Jimmy,” Dave said with a snarling sneer.
    “There, there,” I said with a light pat to his arm. “Next time we’ll just let old No-Toes fend for himself. That’s the only way he’s ever going to learn.”
    “That or a massive ass-kicking.”
    “Well, if you do that, you’ll get to practice your new karate moves, so it’s a win-win, right?”
    He chuckled. “Jujitsu, Sarah, not karate. Karate is like Trix. It’s for kids.”
    “Wow, that was a particularly bad pun,” I said with a shake of my head and a smile.
    As the sun slowly set, he stared at nothing in particular until we left the highway. Since we’d come to Phoenix, this route had become second nature to us. Even if I closed my eyes, I knew the turns to get down the extra-wide streets to what was once the ASU campus and more specifically Sun Devil Stadium.
    Of course, the zombies, the government, and the survivors had made a few alterations to the campus (and all without having a bond vote… who says the system doesn’t work?).
    With over seventy thousand students, professors, and other faculty at work and studying on the campus at thetime of the outbreak, the zombies had ripped through the school like a black, drooling