Zombie Killers: AMBUSH: Irregular Scout Team One Book Six (Zombie Killer Blues 6) Read Online Free

from me, duct taped to a chair. Staring at him, I wondered what had brought him to this fate; we were both survivors who had taken different paths. Maybe it was my military training and combat experience, I don’t know. Many civilians had survived also, and hadn’t done what he did.
    “You know we’re going to hang you, right? How old are you? Mid thirties? So you had a life before this,” I said, waving my hands to indicate the world around us. “family, maybe, good job in the City. Now look at you. Filed teeth, bad breath, you stink to high heaven.” He did, too. He had the malnutrition of someone who had been getting by on too much meat and not enough fruits and vegetables, but for him to have survived for this long as a cannibal, he had to be getting the right vitamins SOMEWHERE. No scurvy, no rickets, none of the other diseases. I wanted to know where he got the rest of his food from.
    Leaning over and ripping the duct tape off his face, I sat back and waited for him to stop cursing me. I really wished my old teammate Sasha Zivcovic was here to do this, because he probably would get a kick out of it. I didn’t like what I was about to do, but as team leader, it had to be done. Lt. Simmons sat on another chair, watching and learning, hopefully. Lisa sat on the counter, carving her initials or something into the Formica. She was ignoring the conversation completely, just watching the prisoner, waiting for him to make a go at escaping.
    “So let’s start. The usual questions. How many, where is your hideout, yadda yadda.”
    “Who the fuck are you that wants to know? Just some other jacked up douchebag raider. Fuck you.” He spat at me, but I was expecting it, and leaned back in the chair to avoid it. Lisa got up, pulled out her 9 mm, reversed it so that she was holding it by the barrel, and casually smashed him in the face with the grip. Even I winced as several teeth cracked. Then she kicked him hard in the leg, where a bullet had gone through the muscle of his calf. He screamed loudly, spitting blood. She sat back down and resumed carving on the countertop.

              “My name, Bob,” I said, flipping open his wallet and pulling out a battered NY state Drivers License, “is Sergeant Major Nick Agostine, Team Leader, Irregular Scout Team One, Joint Special Operations Command.” It was funny how many survivors carried around their wallets, relics of the past that they couldn’t let go of. This one held a drivers license, a couple of pictures, insurance card, and lo and behold, a military ID card!
    “Let me see” said Lt. Simmons, and I handed the ID card over to him. “Travis, Robert K, E-3, United States Army.” It had an expiration date for two years AFTER the plague, so he had been in when it started.
    “Even better, a cannibal AND a deserter. Didn’t you get the recall, PFC Travis? You know, from the Federal Government, ordering all past and present service members to report to the nearest FEMA camp? Five years ago? Or the amnesty declared last year, after the second plague?”
    He didn’t say anything, just sat there sullenly with blood coming out of his mouth. I slapped the table to get his attention, and said “Listen here, PFC Travis. You’ve got a choice. Fast or slow. Fast, and you tell us everything about the area, and we hang you, or shoot you. Slow, and Ms. Cappochi there beats the ever loving shit out of you, and THEN we shoot you, or hang you. Your choice.” I reached in a side pocket and pulled out a metal cigarette case, pulled out one, and put it in his mouth, then lit it. He sucked in gratefully. I didn’t smoke, but they came in handy as trading items.
    “Fuck it,” he said. “Always knew it would catch up to me someday, Sergeant Major. Damn that feels good!”
    I let him smoke it down to the end, then asked again. “Fast or slow?”
    “Fast. I’ll tell you everything. This life sucked anyway. Not much meat left around here anymore. Especially babies.