The Kindle/Kindle Unlimited versions of
Nurse Alissa vs. the Zombies VII: On the Road will be released on 16 April and the print edition shortly thereafter. While you wait, here's a brief excerpt from the novel to wet your appetite.
Half an hour later a farm
appeared on the horizon, a two-story house with a hundred acres of farmland
behind it. Someone had sown the crops since the outbreak. Off to the left stood
a red-painted stable with a fenced in area surrounding it. The gate remained
closed. A silo stood off to the right. Alissa studied the property for signs of
life but saw none.
The convoy stopped in front
of the house. Abney and Lindsey climbed out. Alissa and Nathan joined them. A
woman exited the ambulance to join them. She was an attractive woman with
blonde hair and a little older than Abney. She wore sand-colored military-style
pants and an olive drab t-shirt, a French Foreign Legion hat with a back
covering that shielded her neck and hair, and a tan handkerchief tied around
her neck. She carried an axe as a weapon. As they approached the house, Alissa
noticed that the front and screen doors had been left open. A snarl came from
inside. Everyone stopped. Alissa and Nathan pulled the Carbines off their
shoulder. None of the others seemed concerned.
A deader centered itself in
the doorway, a young man, probably in his mid-twenties. He wore nice clothes, his
polyester shirt stained down the left arm and back with blood. While human, he
had tried to commit suicide by shooting himself in the head. Either his aim had
been off or the weapon had been of a small caliber, and he only succeeded in blasting
off the top left side of his skull. The bullet had missed the primordial
nervous system that drove the deaders. Judging by the lack of decay, this was
one of the recent dead, which meant they faced a runner. Alissa raised her
weapon to fire.
Lindsey stopped her. “We got
this.”
“Joan?” asked Abney.
“I’m on it.” Joan stepped
forward a few paces, raised the axe above her head, and whistled.
The deader focused on her,
snarled, and charged. Joan judged the distance and threw the axe. It
somersaulted once before the blade struck the deader in the center of its
forehead, slicing half-way through its skull. It continued charging for a few
more feet before it collapsed in front of Joan. She stepped forward, placed her
foot on its chest, and yanked the axe free.
“I don’t believe it,”
mumbled Nathan.
“You should.” Abney grinned
like a kid on Christmas morning. “That’s Joan MacLeod, axe throwing champion
for Clay County for three years in a row.”
Joan gave him a thumbs up
before wiping the blade off on the deader’s shirt.
Movement came from inside the house, followed
by sound.
