Life After The Undead (Book 1) (43 page)

“Nice
shooting,”
Quinn
whispered.

I
couldn
’t
help
but
smile,
and
confidence
washed
over
me.
We
finished
our
sweep
without
running
into
any
more
creatures.

“It’s
clear,”
he
said.
“I
saw
the
cargo
door
in
this
corner
over
here.”
He
pointed
to
his
right.
“So
if
you
want
to
bring
the
truck
around,
I’ll
get
it
open.”

I
nodded
and
headed
outside.
As
I
stepped
into
the
sun,
my
gait
had
a
little
more
snap
to
it
and
the
knot in
my
stomach
disappeared.
Not
only
had
Quinn
given
me
a
compliment,
but
I’d
just
killed
three zombies
with
only
three shots
using
a
flashlight.
That
was
pretty
freaking
good.
I
realized
at
that
moment,
I
didn
’t
need
to
worry
about
the
creatures,
they
needed
to
worry
about
me.
I
cautioned
myself
about
being
cocky,
but I
thought
I
deserved
to
bask in
my
awesomeness
for a
few
minutes.

We
filled
the
rest
of
the
truck
with
the
nonperishable
food
items
we
found
in
the
store.
It
took
us
another
couple
hours,
then
we
went
to
fill the
tanker.
Quinn
led
us to
a
station
on
the
outskirts
of
town.
The
place
was
surrounded
by
a
chain
-link
fence,
so
we
didn
’t
have
to
worry
about
zombies.

While
Kyle
and
Bill
filled
the
truck,
Quinn
and
I kept
watch.
The
sun
set
as
we
finished
loading the
truck,
and
Quinn
suggested
we
find
a
place
to
stay
for the
night.
We
drove
to
the
center
of
town
and
parked
in
front
of
the
jail.
I
glanced from the building to
him.

“The
jail?
Why
here?”

“It’s
the
safest
place
in
town.
Everything
is
divided
into
sections,
so
even
if
there
are
zombies
in
there,
they
’r
e
trapped
and
can
be
taken
down
easily.
Plus,
there
are
beds
and
restroom
facilities.
Where
else
do
you
suggest
we
go?”

Quinn
’s
reasoning
sounded
logical,
and
I
didn’t
know
any
place,
so
I
trusted
his
judgment.
“How
are
we
going
to
get
in?
Aren
’t
the
doors
locked?”

“Most
of
the
locks
are
triggered
by
electricity.
We
hotwire
the
system,
and
the
doors
will
pop
right
open.”

“How
are
you
going
to do
that?”

He
smiled.
“We
have
our
ways.”

The
outside
doors
weren
’t
an
issue,
they
were
unlocked,
so
we
headed
to
the
second
floor
where
the
holding
cells
were
located.
We
opened
the
stairway
door
onto the
admittance
desk,
and
Bill
walked
around
to
the
backside.
He
pulled
what
looked
like a
car
battery
out
of
his
bag.
He
popped
open
a
panel
on
the
underside
of
the
desk
before
attaching
the
wires.
With
a
flip
of
a
switch,
the
doors
buzzed
and
popped
open.
I
looked
at
Quinn
, unable to stop the grin from spreading across my lips.
I
was
impressed.
We
cleared
the
area,
then
picked
a
cell.

The
holding
cells
were
a
combination
of
the
new
and
old.
They
had
concrete walls
with
two
bunk beds
and
a
toilet
and
sink
in
the
corner.
The
doors
were
black
iron
bars.
There
were no
windows,
and
there
were
five
cells on
both
sides
of
the
hall.

“Now,
the
doors
won
’t
lock
when
you
close
them,”
Quinn
explained.
“So
you
’l
l
have
to
tie
them
closed
with
this.”
He
handed
me
a
piece
of
wire.

“Isn’t
someone
going
to
stay
awake
and
keep
guard?”

“What
for?
Zombies
are
terrible
at
climbing stairs,
and
we
’v
e
secured
the
area.
Even
if
they
get
past
the
two
doors
and
into
this
room,
you
’r
e
protected
in
your
cell.
You
can
still
shoot
the
zombies,
but
they
can’t
get
you.”

All
the
confidence
I’d
felt
earlier
drained
out
of
m
e. Visions
of
being trapped
in
a
tiny
room,
alone,
with
zombies
reaching
for
me
flashed
through
my
mind.

“What
if
a
hundred of
them
show
up?
None
of
us
have
the
ammo
to
stave
off
that
kind
of
attack.”

Quinn
shook
his
head.
“There
won
’t
be
that
many.
They
don’t
even
know
we
’r
e
here.
You
’l
l
be
fine.”

I took
a
deep
breath and
glanced
at
the
doors
we
just came
through.
The
zombies
would
have
to
come
up
to
the
second
floor,
make
it
through
the
door
at
the
top
of
the
stairs,
then
get
through
the
two
doors
that
had
been
wired
shut.
It
was
secure
enough.
It
had
to
be.