Summer Of 68: A Zombie Novel Read Online Free

cabin, followed shortly by a man’s voice. “Baker,” it said in between bouts of static. “Baker…Sheriff Baker, can you hear me?”
    Baker sprang forward, confused. It took a moment to realize that this wasn’t part of the broadcast, but originated from the CB radio. Baker shook his head, his heart rate slowing back to a logical pace.
    “Go for Baker,” he said, snatching the receiver. The voice belonged to his deputy, Mark Cohen, which begged the question: “Where’s Mary?”
    He listened to the rolling static, awaiting reply. “I don’t know. We’ve been steady on calls…” a phone rang in the background, followed by another. “Damn it, here we go again and look—there’s no one here to answer them!”
    Baker frowned, how long had dispatch been unattended?
    After a prolonged silence, Cohen asked, “What do you want me to do here? I’ve already searched the station—can’t find her anywhere…I’m running thin on places to look.”
    Baker grumbled, and felt a headache slowly form. “Was she there when you started your shift?”
    “Yeah, that’s the thing. She was here less than twenty minutes ago and now I don’t know where or when she left.”
    Baker thought it through. “Alright,” he said, “if you need, try reaching her at home. Maybe she had an emergency.” It was a possible explanation, at home, she had a newborn and drunkard boyfriend to mother. Baker answered more calls to her residence for petty squabbles than he’d like to admit
    “If, for any reason you can’t reach her there—go ahead and call Janet. I’m sure she’d be willing to work a double.”
    Baker fell silent, realizing the radio program he was listening to had done the same. He twisted the dial, dancing between stations. It was operational only a couple of minutes ago and now there was nothing, save for the rolling waves of static that endlessly overlapped one another.
    “Baker, you still with me out there…Baker, you copy?”
    “Yeah,” Baker said, clearing his throat, “I’m here,” though his thoughts remained elsewhere, shifting between Janet and the radio.
    “You hear what I said?”
    Baker frowned. “No,” he lied, “it’s fuzzy on this end, I must’ve missed it. Repeat it, please.”
    “I went ahead and gave Janet a call. She’ll be in as soon as she can.”
    “Sounds good to me,” he said. “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, myself. Do what you can and let’s see if we can’t get this squared away before anything gets too out of hand.”
    Over the radio, Cohen grunted in agreement. “Roger that—what do you want me to do until then?”
    “Just what’cha been doing and man those phones. Get Thompson or Hawthorne onboard if you need a hand.”
    “Okay,” Cohen grumbled, “I’ll see you when you get here.”
    Baker signed off and started the engine. Back on the highway, he directed himself towards town. With his eyes on the road, he continued to flip through the radio stations, desperate to find a voice. All he found was static. At first, he wondered if it was the station’s fault. Perhaps a relay tower was down, something along those lines. Maybe it wasn’t as complex as that. For all he knew, the car had blown a fuse. 
    Hitting Main Street, the sky above lessened, the darkness softened to a lush baby blue, intertwined with splotches of pink. The streets remained quiet and at a glance, nothing was out of the ordinary.
    Coming to a stop sign, a rusted old pickup truck rumbled past, spitting a plume of exhaust. Its driver, an old timer named Ted, offered the Sheriff a curt wave, in passing. Baker did the same and for a moment, considered flagging him down and inquiring about his radio. He decided against it and drove the rest of the way in silence.
    Why was it bugging him so much, he wondered. He couldn’t explain it, even though he was convinced that it was a hoax, there was something in the sincerity of the man’s voice, the hopelessness and the fear that said