Read Dead South Rising (Book 2): Death Row for Free Online

I’ll hunt Lenny down, make sure those new people ain’t giving him a rash of shit.”
    “Hell, we’re the new people, if ya think about it.”
    He smiled. “Yeah, true. But these three…” He shook his head doubtfully.  
    “Yeah, they seem like they’re going to be a handful.”
    “Good times, right there.”
    “Good times indeed.” She forced a return smile, then patted Randy’s arm, being mindful of his injury.  
    He turned away, and she watched the moon of a man lumber off down the hall. She believed he’d actually lost some weight, probably the only plus side to living in a post-apocalyptic world.
    After he rounded the corner, she started down the hall in the opposite direction, toward David’s room beside the nurses’ station. She really hoped he’d talk to her today. Since returning from their run-in with the two banditos, their chats skewed predominately to one side, and she really didn’t feel like carrying the conversation. She was feeling especially sensitive and grief stricken.
    Call me a murderer. The fucking nerve Roy has.
    As she neared David’s room, she didn’t slow, but kept going, rounding the corner, instead. Perhaps she just wasn’t in an altruistic mood, or have the strength to deal with two sets of emotions. She and David were so much alike…
    She tossed around casual glances, the hall strangely quiet given the mass exodus from the conference room mere minutes ago. It was a rather strange place, the Alamo. Folks kept mostly to themselves, except when working on a project together.
    Like herding shufflers into fences and pools.
    Appalling. That’s what that was. Downright disgusting. Sick. And utterly dangerous. What if those things got out? Then what? Was someone going to just hop on their horse and spin a lasso above their head, roping the dead like calves at a rodeo? These people—these Infirmaries —they didn’t believe in killing shufflers, so they’d have to get their cattle prods and stun guns or whatever the hell they used, and ‘direct’ the dead back into their pens.
    Outside the double warehouse doors, she spotted a peculiar sight.
    What are you doing out here?
    Putting her threatening tears and aggrieved feelings away, she walked up to the young boy with his ear pressed to the door, his back to her. He was oblivious to anyone around him.  
    Laying a hand on the boy’s shoulder, she said,   “Hey there, Bry—”
    His poor little body jolted like she’d channeled 110 volts through it, and Jessica stifled a genuine giggle.  
    Covering her mouth, she said, “Oh, I’m so sorry, Bryan. I didn’t mean to scare you, sweetie.”
    He looked as though he were about ready to cry.
    She knelt before him, held him at arms’ length. “You okay, honey? I really didn’t mean to scare you or laugh at you.”
    Bryan blinked away a tear, then ran his hand across his cheek. “It’s okay, Miss Jessica.”  
    “What are you listening to? We have pests in there?”
    He swiped at his cheek again. “David’s present is in there.”
    Raising a brow, she said, “Present?”
    He nodded, stubborn sprig of hair bouncing.
    “What sort of present?”
    “It’s a surprise for David.”
    “Oh,” she said, her question not really answered. “Well, why don’t we just go in there and get it? I’m sure a present would make David feel much better. Maybe help him get well faster.” She stood, her hand moving to the crown of his head. “I was just about to go check on him, anyway,” she lied.
    “Lenny’s in there, talking to the bad people. He told me to wait out here.”
    Her brow went high, a twinkle of concern danced in her eye. “The bad people?”
    A nod.
    Jessica had a pretty good idea of who Bryan was probably referring to. Was pretty positive, actually. The day after David’s near-death beating, a trio of troublemakers—she suspected as much, anyway—showed up at the Alamo. The same ones she and Randy had discussed only moments ago. She guessed they’d just run