Read Regurgitated (Book 2) (The Filthy Apocalypse) for Free Online Page B

myself whether it appeals to me. Do I feel the first pangs of hunger at the thought of consuming human flesh?
    It doesn’t seem like it. My mouth curls into a grimace.
    I open my eyes and pull my shirt back down over my arm. I wonder how long the transformation will take. I wonder when the fever will hit, the headache, the inability to get out of bed.
    And then comes the end. Me rising up and eating whoever might be near enough to make a decent meal.
    I should probably leave right now, isolate myself from everyone I could hurt.
    Maybe I should even kill myself.
    Another image flashes through my brain—this time, I’m leaping off a twenty-five story building and splattering on the concrete below.
    It sounds like a decent enough way to go, but I know that I won’t kill myself. I have a hunger to survive, to live (no pun intended). I’ve always been terrified of death and in truth, being one of the undead sounds a bit more appealing than being one of the regular dead.
    If I’m undead, I still have goals.
    Sure, they’re very basic goals. Well, pretty much just one singular goal: eat people, as many people as possible until someone shoots me through my zombie brain.
    But goals are still goals. There’s something slightly reassuring about the fact that I’ll be working towards something—something…human. Yeah, I’ll have switched teams, like when Johnny Damon switched from the Red Sox to the Yankees. Everyone in Boston hated him for being a traitorous money grubbing shithead, but at the end of the day he was still playing baseball, just wearing a different jersey.
    Now I’ll be playing for the other side. The guys with missing limbs and rotten, smelly breath and vacant eyes, drooling mouths, moaning and shambling my way towards whatever victims I can rustle up for my constant feasting.
    It’s not what I’d choose to do in a perfect world, clearly, but I need to look at the silver lining here.
    So I make the decision that I’ll embrace my zombiehood, when it comes, but as one last gesture of my humanity, I’ll make sure to get the hell away from my friends and crawl somewhere that I can’t hurt them when I change over.
    At the same time, I want to spend a few last minutes with Teddy and Shep and Fergi. I just need to get away from them in time. Hopefully I’ll be able to do that when the time comes.
    With my mind made up, I have nothing to do now but wait.

    ***
    We’ve just pulled into Shep’s driveway, relieved to be back, but with one last hurdle to get over before we’re safe.
    After getting weapons from Dick’s Sporting Goods store, we had some time in the parking lot to discuss strategy. Nobody had the energy left to try and find a better place to hide out, so we ended up agreeing to come back to Shep’s house. Nobody wanted to try the police station or a school, even though Verne begged.
    Tomorrow, we told him. Tomorrow we’ll try the police.
    Verne still thinks going to the police will solve everything. The guy is dumber than Teddy after he’s had a twelve pack of Budweiser.
    In any case, we’re home, sort of.
    I turn my car off and look over at Teddy. Ever since I realized I was going to be a zombie soon, I’ve been feeling a bit sentimental. “Sorry about earlier, buddy,” I say, patting his shoulder.
    He smiles, relieved at my change of heart. “Me too, man.” Then he turns to Fergi, who’s sitting in the backseat with a loaded crossbow in one hand. “By the way, I was totally kidding about Danny having a venereal disease. He’s clean as a whistle.”
    “I’m sure,” she replies, rolling her eyes.
    “I’m serious,” Teddy tells her. “You want me to suck his cock and prove it? I will, that’s how sure I am.”
    “Chill, Ted. She doesn’t care,” I say, grinning at him like a dad looking at his mentally challenged son. Sure, Teddy’s a dumbass but he’s my dumbass.
    “I’m just saying,” Teddy continues, “she should know you’re a good guy. A good