Resurrection: A Zombie Novel Read Online Free Page A

when they ran into Hughes and Carol. Then the four of them found Parker rummaging around in somebody’s van. They all understood there was safety in numbers. They didn’t even discuss whether or not they should stick together. They did it instinctively.
    And they were all thrilled when they found an unlooted grocery store. It must have been the only one in all of Washington State. It was a great place to hole up for a while, but it wasn’t home. Surely it wasn’t secure enough to stay there all winter, but Kyle couldn’t get Parker to see that. They’d been butting heads ever since Kyle first suggested sailing north to the islands.
    Somebody was bound to emerge as a leader eventually. That’s how these things usually worked, but it hadn’t happened yet. Even if the leader wasn’t a boss issuing orders, somebody would have the most influence. That person was bound to be Kyle or Parker. Theoretically it could be Hughes, but Hughes didn’t seem interested. He didn’t talk much. And silent types can’t be leaders.
    Frank wasn’t incompetent, exactly, but he was definitely sidekick material. No one with any sense would want Frank making decisions, including Frank.
    Carol was out of the question. She was a nervous wreck, a total disaster. She wanted someone to tell her exactly what she should do and when she should do it.
    That left Parker and Kyle, but Parker was bullheaded, difficult, and just … off. It wasn’t only the guns. The man looked like a slob with his cargo pants, army jacket, and big scruffy beard. Hadn’t he heard of razors? There must have been hundreds of disposables in the toiletries aisle. The world was fast running out of just about everything, but Kyle figured he could easily loot a lifetime supply of disposable razors. And Kyle thought it was important to look like a civilized person, now more than ever.
    “You want some more light?” Kyle said to Parker as he ran the oil rag through the barrel of one of his pistols. “I could bring some candles over.”
    “I’m fine,” Parker said and didn’t look up from his work. He faced the line of windows so he wouldn’t get in the way of the light, though there wasn’t much to get in the way of. Every window in the grocery store was boarded up. Only twelve or so inches were left exposed at the top to let in some sun. They had to be conservative with the candles.
    At least the water still worked—for now, anyway. And it came out of the sink with incredible force. Apparently the pressure just kept building up since hardly anyone was left alive to release it, but it too would eventually break like the electricity had.
    Kyle didn’t like it when Parker cleaned his guns. Didn’t like it at all. Parker cleaned his guns all the time, every single day, even when he hadn’t fired them since the last cleaning.
    He did it to intimidate everyone else. Kyle was sure of it. No one was really in charge, nor had Parker tried to appoint himself boss, but he wanted to make damn certain everyone took his feelings into account. Theatrically cleaning his guns was a big part of it.
    Parker also wanted to make Kyle feel inadequate and incompetent. How can you expect to lead this group if you can’t even clean a damn gun?
    Kyle was no kind of idiot. He knew how to shoot. His father showed him how when he was a kid. And he had gone shooting dozens of times with his friends on the range and in the forest. He just didn’t own a gun. His home state of Oregon was awash in guns. It had more guns than people. There just weren’t as many guns or gun owners in the city, and Kyle was a city person.
    He had worked as a computer programmer in the suburbs of Portland. That’s where he was when the plague struck. He headed north into Washington, but not to Seattle. That would not have been smart. Seattle wasn’t safer than Portland. Seattle was the first American city to be hit with the virus. Kyle aimed straight for Olympia at the southernmost point on Puget Sound, an