Zombies Ever After: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 6 Read Online Free

the far side so he wouldn't run by the infected souls
inside the tiny park. They appeared to be lying on the grass and on
the numerous benches surrounded by huge piles of garbage. He was too
fast to get caught.
    He was mostly right. The zombies didn't get up and run after him.
    In fact, a couple of them waved.
    4
    Liam did a double take. The men—and a few women—were
lying or squatting in piles of garbage stacked around the
once-pleasant urban park. It was a long, thin park about one city
block long with a crisscross of paved walkways and some glass-block
sculptures that looked more like restroom walls than artwork. Old
trees mingled with several telephone poles the length of the park.
The dense canopy shaded the area.
    He ran on for a few more yards but forced himself to stop. No real
zombies were behind him, and whatever was happening here certainly
warranted asking the question.
    “What are you guys doing out in the open?” he shouted.
    In response, several of the people shushed him, then waved him in.
Seeing no immediate threats, he obliged. The closer he got, the worse
the smell became. It appeared as if the group had scavenged through
every dumpster in the city, and made sure to bring their prizes back
to the park. Here he saw a huge mound of rolled up diapers. Next to
it was a big pile of bones—from meat and fish, as best he could
tell. Both piles were smothered by flies. Other stacks had bottles,
cans, and newspapers, as if these people were conscientious about
recycling. He tried to refrain from holding his nose, but when he got
into...the trash fort, he had to pull his shirt over his nose to
block the smell as best he could.
    “Yeah, it grows on ya, lil' dude,” said a man of
unknown age. He was filthy beyond words, with a beard down to his
sternum. It, and his hair, and indeed all of him, was covered in
blotches of ketchup, mustard, blood, and much worse. Only his voice
gave a clue to his older age, as it was rich and deep.
    “You live here?”
    “Mmm hmm. Since s'start.”
    The man's eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. Liam suspected the
other people nearby were similarly affected. Perhaps there were
toxins in the trash.
    “How? Aren't the zombies here?” He was sure they were.
He and his mom had driven the tank not two blocks over. There were
plenty of zombies around, though he didn't see right then.
    “Nah. Those sick dudes leave us...uh, alone.” The man
pulled up his hand—which had been hidden—and put a
hand-rolled cigarette in his mouth and took a deep drag, evidently
satisfied. He puffed out the smoke, and Liam understood it wasn't
quite a cigarette.
    He searched his literature. There should be no reason these people
survived this long if they'd been in the park since day one. The
thought of zombies staying away from trash didn't add up. As time
went on, they were becoming more and more filthy, too. Being out in
the elements for three weeks, combined with never taking a second to
clean oneself, would make anyone a mess. He'd been lucky he'd spent
so many adventures in and along rivers, as that gave him the
opportunity to “hose off” once in a while. Also, back in
Victoria's room, they capitalized on some of her cleaning products.
    The man was no longer looking at him and seemed to have no
intention of speaking more.
    “Hey! Sir?”
    A slow turn. The man noticed him again. “Oh, yeah? I
remember you. Got any papers?”
    Liam looked around. It made no sense.
    “No. I'm, uh, going to Forest Park. I saw you guys here and
wondered why you haven't been...”
    A couple of flies bounced to and fro on the man's beard. His eyes
showed no hope that he would finish the thought.
    “Well, you all should be dead,” he said with a tense
laugh.
    A couple of other trash people wandered over, including one
woman—again, he couldn't give her an age beyond older than him
and younger than Grandma—wearing a full-length sun dress with
faded paisley swirls. It might have been pretty at one time, but