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Severed
    Volume 3: True Faith
    by
    Sam Lang
     
    *****
     
    Published by Trestle Press
    Copyright 2012 Sam Lang
    Kindle Edition, License Notes
     
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    This book is a work of fiction. The
    names , characters, places, and incidents are products of
    the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and
    are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to
    persons , living or dead, actual events, locales or
    organizations is entirely coincidental.
     
    *****
     
    A Satisfying End?
     
    London, England.
    Andy fiddled with his scope. The long range rifle was perfect for a spot of light entertainment. He hunkered down on the roof and got comfortable. London was a hot spot still, with zombies everywhere, just how he liked it. A shambling form appeared in his scope. Ragged tracksuit bottoms were covered in dirt and grime and an old hoody covered the leprous form of the undead creature. It was at least six foot tall and fresh blood covered its face. The beast had obviously feasted recently. Maybe there were more people nearby? Its wretched mouth hung open exposing filthy chipped blood stained teeth. The eyes were vacant, staring at nothing, like all the undead . The only time they seemed to have any level of alertness was when they spotted food. Some primal urge seemed to awaken in them.
    “Your last meal, you over-sized maggot.”
    Andy slowly squeezed the trigger. The silence of the once busy York Terrace was interrupted by a single loud crack and the creature’s head exploded like an overripe melon. Andy nodded and smiled briefly. He whistled the tune to Queen’s Another One Bites the Dust and grabbed his rifle. Above him angry disapproving clouds held the promise of rain.  
    A quick dash down the stairwell and Andy was back in his flat.   He disassembled the L115A3 rifle and stowed it back in the case. He boiled some noodles up on his little camping stove, adding a pinch of pepper and some curry sauce. He reached for his precious bottle of Tabasco sauce and added a few drops to the noodles. He savoured the noodles, eating every mouthful slowly and thoughtfully. He washed them down with a small bottle of water.
    After tidying up, he grabbed his 9mm Browning pistol, an extra clip and two frag grenades, his old army favourites. Andy had been stationed at Catterick as a training instructor when things had gone bad. Amy, his wife, and his little boy Kieran had not been so lucky. They had been taken from him five years ago. He’d arrived home too late. He vowed as he stared numbly at their remains that he would take vengeance. His one mission in life was taking out zombies and he’d decided he’d get more of them in London than anywhere else. As well as rations and water he’d managed to get a good deal of combat gear from the armoury as his comrades one by one turned from the living to the undead .  
    The door locked automatically as he pulled it closed. He was down the stairs and out in the street within moments. He had the Browning out and the safety off as he walked up York Terrace West. His attention flicked back and forth with the alert professionalism of a trained soldier. He soon found himself on Troughton Road. Deserted cars were all over the street and houses lined either side. A wretched runt of a zombie feasted on something by the bumper of a Volkswagon . It made obscene grunting noises as it buried its face in the blackened mass, making a sickly wet slurping sound.
    Andy crept up behind the creature and without a word put a single bullet in its head. It sagged lifelessly. The single