This excerpt is where you first meet the Undead Mother-in-law, Diane Newby. She’s invited her daughter and son-in-law over for Valentine’s Day dinner. Find out what happens right here:
Try Zombie Detective for .99. It’s not a detective who is a zombie, but one who solves zombie cases. And it’s now on sale for .99 from June 21st to 28th.
Ace zombie reporter Sam Melvin has been fired–by his wife, Lisa. Their paper, The Midley Beacon, is barely surviving. How will they make ends meet?
Sam decides to give being a detective a try. He advertises his business–but his zombie experience comes with it. All across the country, people bring their zombie problems to Sam. Zombie Squirrels? Zombie Bulls? Sam’s on the case. But can his experience with zombie turkeys transfer?
Sam finds out in a series of deadly adventures–and so will you when you read this book. See if you can keep from dying from laughter.
Try Zombie Detective – An Excerpt
Chapter 12 – Criminal
Criminal chapter icon
Sam walked into the office in Chicago Police Headquarters. “Superintendent Howell?”
“Yes. Please call me Gary, Sam.” A big smile creased his brown face below his glasses and bald head.
“Sure, Gary.”
“I’ve prepared a briefing for you. Here are the videos in time order.” Superintendent Howell pushed a button on his computer, and a wall-sized screen lit up, playing a black-and-white security video. A man wearing a ski mask punched a car window, opened the door, and took out a computer bag and a cell phone.
“That was the first crime. Here’s the next.” The same man knocked out a store’s plate-glass window and grabbed a television.
Sam watched all twelve videos with Gary Howell. They all happened late at night, all the break-ins done by the man’s fist. In the last video, taken from a policeman’s body camera, the man was shot, and he stumbled but kept running and vaulted over a six-foot barbed-wire fence, clearing it with a foot to spare.
“Whoa! I can see why zombiism is suspect number one.”
“Yes. We never found the bullets that were shot, and our video analysis show the man was hit in the leg and the back.”
“And then did the Olympic high-jump stunt.”
“Yes. We also analyzed his speed before the jump. Thirty miles per hour.”
“So an Olympic sprinter as well as a jumper. Have you interviewed any decathletes in Chicago?”
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Bill looked up as a man came in—average height, maybe five-nine, medium build, not fat, not skinny, roundish face, hazel eyes, and brown hair. He would be hard to remember. But Bill had known him all his life.
Sam Melvin, the reporter for Midley Beacon, dropped in for his daily chat. Sam and Bill had been friends since elementary school, and they had both stayed around Midley all their lives. Bill, a short, stocky guy with blondish hair, had gone off to school and become a coroner.
Zombie Detective cover
Sam had stayed in Midley after high school, doing odd jobs, until he got on with the Midley Beacon. As a reporter and blogger for a small-town weekly paper, Sam wasn’t especially busy, and he liked to socialize.
Here’s Sam’s view of Lisa Kambacher ten years after high school, when he was working for her as a reporter for the weekly newspaper, The Midley Beacon.
Lisa Kambacher, fighting zombie turkeys.
“Keep it down,” growled Lisa Kambacher, his boss and the editor of the Midley Beacon, and the only other employee at the small weekly newspaper. “I’m busy editing your crap.”
Sam swiveled his ancient, uncomfortable office chair from his laptop so he faced Lisa. He’d garbage-picked that chair from his neighbor in Midley when he was hired fifteen years ago. Her thin face, framed in brown hair, peered at the computer screen.
Lisa’s dark-brown eyes stared intently at what she was editing. Maybe it was the piece Sam had written about Mrs. Huntington and her award-winning afghans. He hadn’t enjoyed reporting that; he couldn’t imagine she’d like editing it.
After typing up his story and sending it to Lisa for editing, he stared at her.
Because of his good grades, Sam’s high school English teacher had suggested he volunteer for the school paper. He’d gone to the newspaper “office,” a walk-in closet, and had seen a tall, slender girl pounding away on an old IBM PC. She’d looked up sharply, scowled, and said, “What do you want? Do you have a story?”
“Uh, um, I’d like to work for the newspaper.”
“Hmmm. I could use a reporter. Let me test you out. There’s a track meet today after school. Go to it. Get all the winners and losers and their feelings.Our readers care about them.Write it up, and report back to me here by seven p.m.”
“You’ll still be here at that time?” Sam asked incredulously.
“Of course. I’m the editor and head reporter and writer. I’ve got twenty stories to write, and I’ve got to report on the tennis match after school today. I expect you to work just as hard, if you want to stay on.”
“Uh, OK.”
“What’s your name, anyway?”
“Sam Melvin.”
“Sam, I’m Lisa Kambacher. Do what I say, and we’ll get along fine. Cross me, and you’ll regret it for the rest of your life!”
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Chapter 3 – Turkeys
Sam Melvin, dealing with Zombie Turkeys
“Me too. Now that’s over, let’s talk business. About Maryland.”
“What’s going on, Lisa?”
“After the zombie turkey apocalypse, they kept a flock of wild zombie turkeys for hunters. Maryland’s gotten great tourist trade from that. The recent bad weather on the East Coast has kept the hunters down, and the turkeys are out of control. They’re hunting people in the suburbs of Hagerstown.”
“What can I do about that? That’s a problem for the National Guard. I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
“Yes, I know. The governor, Mary Landis, called me begging for your help. They can’t find the turkeys. I promised her that you’ve got a nose for zombie turkeys and you’ll find their hideouts in no time flat. They’re paying you two thousand per day for this, so don’t screw up. I’ve booked an evening flight to Hagerstown from the Peoria airport at six p.m. That gives you an hour to get there. Starting now.”
The captain put up a map on the wall-sized video screen. It was dotted with little black symbols and bigger red ones. Looking closely, Sam saw they were miniature turkeys.
“The small black symbols are where we’ve found turkeys. The large red ones are where we fought them. The battles are all on the west side of Hagerstown. And so are all the turkeys we’ve found in the woods.”
Sam walked to the screen and peered closely at the symbols. “Hmmm. Look at the turkey attacks, Captain. Do you see the pattern?”
“It’s kind of a semicircular tangent to Hagerstown. What does that mean?”
“See this attack near Cearfoss Pike? Then this one on Fairview Road? Look how they follow the Conococheague Creek. All these attacks in Fairview Acres—it’s surrounded by a big loop of the creek.”
“So they’re following the creek.”
“Yes. Even zombie turkeys need water. And I’m sure there are lots of trees and brush around it.”
“So much so we haven’t bothered investigating the banks.”
After killing hundreds of hibernating turkeys later, they got a comm: “All units proceed to MD-40. Major turkey attack underway in Cearfoss, Maryland.”
“Crap. That’s past their previous attack in Fairview Acres. They’re getting closer to Hagerstown,” Jeff said.
Sam gunned the engine, and they mushed uphill to the access road where the MRAP awaited them. Jimmy trotted behind them. Another MRAP picked up Amy.
Sam drove a quarter-mile into the woods, when the first zombie turkey flew into his face, spurs first. They scratched the tough Plexiglas on his helmet.
“Gobble! Gobble!”
Sam speared the bird on his twelve-inch knife and continued to plow toward the MRAP. Hundreds of turkeys descended from the trees. Sam ran over some, pounding them into the snow. Jeff shot them with his M4 carbine. Sam again gunned the engine as he hit level ground. The flock followed them, pecking at their backs, as they hunkered down on the eight-wheeled vehicle.
Three Free Zombie Detective Excerpts – Part 4
Zombie Turkeys fly to escape to Zombie Turkey hunters
Sam had often thought zombie turkey victims looked like they had been assaulted by hundreds of pickaxes. Now he felt their beaks cut through his parka, slowly bleeding him to death. The cold air congealed his blood quickly. Next to him, Jeff had fixed a bayonet on his M4 carbine and sliced wildly, beating off the turkeys.
He saw the MRAP ahead and sped toward it. The flamethrower shot liquid flame over his head. He felt the heat on his exposed bloody skin.
Weak and faint from blood loss, Sam parked next to the MRAP as the flames shot out overhead. Jeff jumped out and opened the rear of the vehicle. Sam fell off into the soft snow between the vehicles. His last sight before losing consciousness was a huge tom turkey stalking toward him.
“Gobble! Gobble!”
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Andy Zach
Three Free Zombie Detective Excerpts – Meet Author Andy Zach
