Read DEAD: Reclamation: Book 10 of the DEAD series for Free Online Page B

a hit-and-run style of attack. Due to the size of the Swift-Hope community, there had not really been any human threat that could truly be a danger to them. Obviously, this was different.
    “I see at least a dozen,” Bill said as he handed the binoculars back to Jody.
    “They are either very brave or very stupid,” Jody muttered as he took another look.
    These invaders had obviously taken Turret Ten. People were coming and going in and out like they had no cares in the world. A huge fire had been built and what he had to assume were the bodies of the people who had once manned the post were being burned.
    However, it also looked like they had taken a prisoner. A man was in a cage that had been hoisted a good twenty feet off the ground. The man looked pretty beat up and somebody had taken a blade to his chest, making an uncountable number of slices obviously meant to entice the man to give up information.
    “Don’t do anything stupid, Rafe,” Bill warned.
    Jody felt his gut twist. He focused in on the face of the man and had to force his hands to relax their grip on the glasses.
    “What have you gotten yourself into, Danny?” Jody whispered.
     
    ***
     
    The following is an excerpt from a journal found in an abandoned camp just outside of the ruins of Billings, Montana:
     
    Entry One—
    My name is Adam. I won’t bore you with my last name, since, if you are reading this, you would probably mispronounce it anyway. How about just Adam V.?
    I am a hunter.
    That opens up the question of what I hunt. Well, in the world of the dead, most of us are hunters of some sort. We hunt for food, or we hunt for a safe place to live. Some may even hunt for the lost world that lives in our memory.
    I hunt the living. Don’t worry. I have a reason, and I don’t just hunt any living person. I only hunt the ones who have been brought to my attention.
    As many of you know, when the dead came, it changed damn near everything. Some was actually for the better. No more Hollywood tabloids for one. Seriously, who cares about if some talentless pop star’s sister was banging the manager?
    Although, now that I think about it…the manager might have made my list. I think the sister was only fourteen or fifteen and the manager was some skeezy old dude in his forties.
    Some was for the worst. That first year, it seemed like every creep and playground lurker decided that it was open season on women and children. You could not run into a group of people that didn’t have at least one sad story to tell. And you always knew which one right away. They had that haunted look nine times out of ten. Most would jump out of their skin if you tapped them on the shoulder.
    Zombies were not the worst problem like the old movies, books, and television shows always made you think. Nope, it was the living. As far as I am concerned, that is still the case.
    Personally, I can’t be mad at zombies. That is like being mad at a great white shark or a grizzly bear. You show up in their home smelling like food and then get upset when they took a bite? Zombies are the same way. They are just doing what they do. They are the ultimate species when it comes to equal opportunity. Rich, poor, fat, skinny. You are all the same in the milky eyes of the undead.
    But when it comes to people, that is different. You are making a choice to prey on those weaker than you for your own sick gratification. That is why I must wipe you off the face of the earth. With the population being reduced like it is, a single death is equal to thousands. So, the way I see it, every single time I kill one of those useless shit bags, I am actually killing thousands of the bastards.
    My actual number of official kills is eighty-nine. Five escaped, and eleven I never found. I am currently hunting number ninety. He won’t escape. I know this because I am sitting on a log, writing this journal entry while he sits five feet away, staked to the ground. His name does not matter, and I will not let him