Mountain Man (Mountain Man, Book 1)
Keith C. Blackmore
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Augustus Berry lives a day-to-day existence comprised of waking up, getting drunk, and preparing for the inevitable day when “they” will come up the side of his mountain and penetrate his fortress. Living on the outskirts of a city and scavenging for whatever supplies remain after civilization died two years ago, Gus knows that every time he goes down into undead suburbia could be his last.
First book of a series.
Had to have the shit to wipe yourself. In the movies, it was food, water, and ammo. Never said anything about crap wrap. That was something they didn’t cover in the movies. Someone fucked up. Gus chuckled, took another shot of the Crown Royal, and studied the darkening cityscape and the Bay of Fundy beyond it. His thoughts became a slow drip of anesthesia as he watched and sipped. Somewhere, he forgot his limit again and lost count of the shots he downed. The city became a basin of black and as biting as the dragging wind.
He wasn’t picky. He simply wanted something to shoot. Old Lou’s pain-wracked wails came from where he sat square in the middle of the highway, three-quarters of a kilometer away from the service station. The distance had been a bastard to figure on because Tenner just wasn’t certain of the range of his weapon. He hefted the rifle to his shoulder again and moved its bipod-mounted barrel onto the ledge of the roof. Tenner peeked through the scope once more, smirking as he looked over old Lou’s screaming form.
That was all she needed right now, he figured, after what she’d been through. “You have to head down there often? ” she asked. Gus nodded, watching the dirt road ahead as the van travelled over the winding slope. Scott kept the headlights off as they approached the wall. “Snow will be down soon, though. Won’t be able to get down there at all. That’s why we were in your part of the woods today. Pickin’ up supplies. ” Beyond the tall stone wall, the dark peaks of the house rose up. The van came to a stop. “Home again, home again, jiggity jig,” Gus said, and got out.
No, not really. ” “I think all of his books are here. You’ll see, anyway. I never asked you before, where you from? Saint John? ” “Yeah. Saint John. ” “Like it there? ” “Back in the day, yeah, it was fine. Not now, though. ” Gus drank some of his rum. He studied the bottle. “I’ll have to get another one of these soon. Anytime you want anything, just let me know. I’ve got lots down below. I gotta get you a Speed Stick as well. And a toothbrush. ” “You have those? ” “Got lots. Raided a drugstore a while back and took what I could from the shelves.
More scrabbling on his helmet and inside his thighs. And he lost it. Gus bucked, twisted, and turned. He snapped out a boot, breaking the face of the thing on his legs. He yanked his fists from the grips of the dead and punched. He grabbed and snapped the wrists of the man clawing through his leather. He brought his knees up and under him and reached out and placed his hands on the cold asphalt, in between the shoes and boots of the dead. They clawed at his back and his helmet, their hissing and moaning loud in his ears.