For the Fallen (Zombie Fallout #7)

By Mark Tufo; Published In 2013
Genres: Horror, Zombies, Fiction, Audiobook
Can’t know everything, Vivian. Otherwise you would have cut your husband’s balls off before he cheated and shut off the money.

Dad, I think there’re zombies,” Travis said. And then I caught the caustic whiff of malodor. “It’s Henry.” Tommy pointed. Henry was busy trying to send carpet fibers over his latest creation as his back paws scraped at the industrial rug.

Fine, just don’t get shot again,” she told me as she grabbed her backpack. Really? I thought. Wouldn’t that kind of be the first thing I would avoid? That’s like saying, ‘Don’t let that train hit you’. Or, ‘don’t let the chainsaw-wielding madman disembowel you’. Or better yet ‘Contents of Coffee Cup are extremely hot, do not pour in lap’.

Fuck death, it’s not the enemy, zombies are.

I can’t imagine a cure, but they’ll have inoculation. They have to offer something to get the survivors to become subservient to them. Probably something that needs a booster shot as well.” “So instead of a true vaccination, it will be something like a tetanus shot?” “You’re getting it now. Otherwise it would be like making a light bulb that never burns out.” “Your husband was in on this?

I’d never once considered Tracy anything other than beautiful, but the hardness of the apocalypse had sculpted her into something almost otherworldly. Any chance I had to grab onto that, I was going to take it.

I just couldn’t see it being worth the bikers’ trouble getting in here. We’d already bled them so much. I guess when you have nothing more to lose, what’s the difference? That’s what made them scary. I almost got the feeling they wanted to die.

I killed the cheating bastard. Who knows, maybe if I’d done it a few days sooner, I could have prevented all of this. But where would the fun be in that? I would have missed out on all this,” she said, taking her hands off the steering wheel spreading her arms wide.

Is he singing?” BT asked. “He is. What is that shit…REO Speedwagon? Why are you crackers always bat-shit crazy? You’d never see a black man tip-toeing through the zombies singing crappy 80’s music.

It was brutal acting this nonchalant. I was revved up like an ADD sufferer at a kaleidoscope convention.

I was thinking that Trip as a zombie would be a pretty funny sight. He’d always be hungry and would never remember to eat.

Karma works entirely too fast in my case to go against it.

My momma always said crackers were crazy, something about their white skin not being able to stop the sun from cooking their brains.

My name is Captain Najarian. Most of what’s left of my platoon just call me Cap.” He extended a hand to help Doc up. “The shooter is Corporal Hildie. Her illegal fraternizing partner next to her is Lieutenant Butz. Just call him ‘Buzz’ or he gets mad. This is my wife Dina,” he said, introducing the woman to his right. “And then there’s Chaplin. We think he might be prior military, but since he hasn’t said a word in the two months we’ve known him, we don’t have a clue.

Oh come now, Dixon. I’m more qualified than my husband ever was…or that oaf Wendelson.  We could rule together, like modern day monarchs.

One more day, man. I’ll spend one more day with her. If there is a chance of getting a vaccination or a cure, I owe it to Mike and his family to find it. One more day. If it doesn’t pan out, I’m leaving her.” He thought about going back into the truck,

on the fool’s trip to save Paul. And for what? My fucking friend and his wife were dead. Maybe they would have been able to ride the damn thing out in their attic. Couldn’t be worse, that’s for sure. So we had potentially only forestalled my son’s death and theirs.

Porkchop didn’t seem hurt by the words. He knew Doc’s wife and kids had been mercilessly slaughtered while the man had been forced to watch. He would have been next had not everyone merely left. “I’m still here.” He thrust his chin up. “Porkchop, I just want to die.” Doc turned his back to the light. “If you want the door shut, do it yourself.” Porkchop was crying as he walked out.

She was in a nest of pit vipers, and just because she herself was one did not mean that someone wouldn’t turn and strike at her.

The body can only produce so much adrenaline, and when it’s done, it’s worse than coming down off of a caffeine-laced eight ball. (Not that I know what that would entail.)

There’s not a woman alive that will let the facts get in the way of them winning an argument.

The zombies in the cab were looking at us like it was Christmas 1996 and we had just taken the last Tickle Me Elmo dolls off the shelf.

This was killing me to ask, and I knew I didn’t even want the answer. “How long?” “Dad, BT might be days away. I figure I’ve got a week or two at the tops.” And there it was, my heart was wrenching in my chest. It felt like my rib cage was crushing in on itself like I had a working garbage disposal in there. We were coming full circle to that time in my office the night he had been scratched going

Unfortunately, I didn’t think it was this ‘new world’ that brought out the shittier side of humans. We have always had it in us. Why is man so fundamentally flawed? Does it really go back to knowledge and that stupid apple Eve just had to have? I would have rather been a noble savage. Thanks, Eve, for ruining it for the rest of us.

We’re still alive and we’re still together. Plus, I have some killer weed. Want a hit?

What’s your last name?” “Waggoner.” Dennis shifted around to put his briefs and pants back on. “What’s your story?” “I bet yours is more interesting, but I’ll give you the short of it,” he told her. “I was staying at my dad’s.

Why am I so willing to give up hope?” she asked quietly. “Because it’s a fucked up world,” Trip said.

You getting lighter, big dog?” I asked as I kissed his face. “Get a room,” BT said. “I plan on it,” I told him. His confused look passed over quickly. “Shit, man, that was pretty good.” “I’ve been working on my timing and delivery.