Rotting to the Core (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

near thing, he managed to
resist the urge to leap through the room, grab Kat by the
shoulders, and shake her until she came across with the specifics
of her plan. Primarily because he didn't want to cause any noise,
which would alert aforementioned zombies to their presence inside
Old Hall. Also, Jake had some rather strong opinions about men who
put their hands on women in anger. He had some scars on his
knuckles (and one from a knife stabbed into his lower back) from
fighting some of these types of men, too. Lastly, Kat was well versed in many deadly styles of martial arts. Ninjutsu,
Ta-Kwan-Do, Jujitsu, and at least one style of Kung-Fu. It would be
a very, very sorry man who attempted to put his hands on the
pretty, blue-haired young woman without her consent.
    “Kat,” Jake began slowly, taking a seat on
the hardwood coffee table in front of her ugly couch. He lit
himself a cigarette with the Zippo from his tac-vest's breast
pocket. “Just to put my mind at ease? How, pray tell, are we going
to get out of here, past the hundreds of zombies currently dragging
their dead, smelly asses all around our little hideaway? Please
note the profusely sweating brow and shaky hands I'm
displaying.”
    She laughed. “Come on. Don't you have any
faith in me?”
    “You? Sure. Whether or not what you've got in
mind is something that will either give me palpitations, an intense
feeling of panic, or just send me into a mild state of fear-induced
regression back to my unpleasant childhood? That's something else
altogether.” Jake blew some wonderful, nicotine-infused smoke
towards the ceiling. “Spill it.”
    “What was so bad about your childhood?” Kat
frowned and leaded up to one elbow on her couch. Certain
female-exclusive assets pressed firmly against the fabric of her
shirt as she half-rose, which would've caused Jake's pulse rate to
accelerate up towards Prestissimo speed if he hadn't been watching
the way smoke from his cigarette wafted toward the ceiling.
    “Let's just say I had a problem with
authority,” Jake told her as he took a deep drag from his American
Spirit.
    She stifled a laugh behind her hands. “Wow! I
never would've guessed.”
    “Smart ass. And don't change the
subject.”
    Kat flopped to her back on the couch again
and cradled her head with both hands. As she gazed at Jake
thoughtfully, it wasn't difficult for her to gauge his mood. Worry
with a healthy side of apprehension. That was a volatile mix,
especially when it came to making good an escape sans attracting
unwanted attention from hostile opponents nearby. There was no way
they'd be able to pull off what she had in mind unless a boat-load
of nervous energy on Jake's part went the way of the Raphus
Cucullatus . Kat briefly wondered if the poor Dodo-bird had died
out, much like the human race was in serious danger of doing, due
to their current situation.
    Zombie Dodos? She thought, as Jake
finished his smoke. Nah. That idea's about as possible as
Bigfoot.
    Remembering she actually believed Bigfoot was
not only possible but likely , Kat sighed.
    The Discovery Channel and Eric S. Brown had a
lot to answer for.
    “Alright, alright. Don't get your boxers in a
bunch. Oh, since we're on the subject, boxers or briefs?” She
grinned.
    Jake lowered his face into his palm and
counted to ten. Out loud.
    Kat rolled to lie on her left side and
watched him, one eyebrow raised archly. “I'll give you a hint.”
    “Go ahead.” Jake's face remained obscured in
his hand.
    “Well, one of the first things mom taught me,
along with how to throw a good crescent kick, was that people only
really see what's pretty much at eye level. With me so
far?”
    He nodded and Kat went on.
    “The reason for that is because humans are
omnivores, you know? We eat meat and don't just chew up the
shrubbery. That's been the case ever since prehistoric times. Our
eyes are set in the front of our heads, not the sides. That's an
attribute of a predator. Something that kills and eats