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Category: Dark Fantasy/Horror
Description: Killing zombies? Easy. Hosting reality TV? That's tough! By the 2040s, the shambling dead have become and international problem. While governments and special interest groups vie for the most environmentally-friendly way to rid the world of zombies, a new breed of exterminator has risen: The Zombie Exterminator. When zombie exterminator Neeta Lyffe gets sued because a zombie she set afire stumbles onto a lawyer's back porch, she needs money, fast. So she agrees to train apprentice exterminators in a reality TV show that makes Survivor look like a game of tag. But that's nothing compared to having to deal with crazy directors, bickering contestants and paparazzi. Can she keep her ratings up, her bills paid and her apprentices alive and still keep her sanity? Excerpt: The workout room had a weights set and an elliptical in one corner, but Neeta ignored them. She needed more vigorous exercise than that if she wanted to burn off her emotional funk. None of the plebes had done the routine she'd just set for herself. It didn't really reflect the reality of zombie movements, either. Although the crew had designed the targets to look much like actual undead, they moved too quickly, changed direction too suddenly, lunged and retreated in ways zombies couldn't imitate. They zigged and zagged, dropped from the ceiling to zoom back up, flung themselves from the ground to trip the unwary. For once, this wasn't about training. Neeta steeled herself, found an opening and dove in with a roar. She swung high, tagging the first zombie with the edge of her blade just as it got within her reach. This was about reflexes, She jumped over the arm that sprung up in front of her, doing the splits as she brought down her chainsaw to slice the hand off at the wrist. ?about burning aggression, She spun a full circle, moving the saw in a sine wave. She took one target out at the knees, sliced another sideways across the chest, beheaded a third. ?about moving beyond thought and planning and negotiations with writers and directors and people who cared more for ratings than lives, She lunged, spun, kicked and swung, her battle cries a perfect accompaniment to the pounding music. A buzzer sounded, and the lights brightened and steadied. The targets stopped their frenetic motions and presented themselves for her to examine. She dropped the saw where she stood and braced her hands against her knees to catch her breath. Her arms felt like lead. A good feeling. She moved among the grimacing targets, noting the strikes that would have severed limbs, the ones that would have beheaded... When she came to the long-haired one with the pot belly, she gave a feral grin. She's landed the blade in perfect position to slice Dave's manic smile right off his face.
eBook Publisher: Eternal Press/Damnation Books LLC/Damnation Books, 2010 2010
eBookwise Release Date: December 2010

3 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [454 KB]
Words: 88087
Reading time: 251-352 min.

Chapter One

They ate Eidelberg.

Dammit! Neeta thought. I was still training him.

The zombies gnawed on his abs, his fine, tanned, eight-pack abs, while he screamed and blubbered and somehow still managed to flip his surfer-blond hair stylishly over his shoulder.

Not that anyone really noticed. The zombies had more interest in his meat than his pelt. There were only eight, but that was still too many for a bunch of unwashed trainees, particularly with the idiot film crew hounding them and getting in the way.

Around Neeta, seven panicky apprentices screamed and flailed with their tools, forgetting everything she'd taught them over the past six weeks, while through their headpieces, Dave shouted directions having more to do with good drama than good tactics. One cameraman continued to film while another had abandoned his camera and fallen to his knees vomiting.

Zombies grunting, plebes screaming, someone calling for her mother...

Wait, that was Neeta--and she wasn't calling; she was apologizing. She just knew Mom was spinning in her grave.

"Fall back!" she shouted into her mike. "Roscoe, Katie--take point and keep the path clear. Everyone else, orderly retreat. Move, move, move!"

Neeta dashed to the front line, wielding her chainsaw as much to badger her students into action as to keep the zombies at bay. She kicked the kneeling cameraman with her heel.

"Come with us if you want to live!" she snarled.

"I do want to live! I do want to live!" he blubbered and dashed into the center of her retreating students.

"Help me!" Eidelberg wailed. A zombie was now pawing at his hair. Young thing, not long turned. Probably some surfer boy's dream girl once.

Neeta Lyffe, Zombie Exterminator, lunged forward with the chainsaw and severed the zombie's hands--and Eidelberg's head with it. The titanium teeth of the saw made a clean cut, but that didn't mean it wasn't messy. Gore and blood splattered her rubber hazmat suit and coated the visor of her faceplate.

Didn't slow her, of course. She let go of the saw with her right hand, swinging it to the left and removing something's arm, and wiped her visor, while still backing up. All part of the job.

Meanwhile, her plebes, finally remembering their training, had formed up in a neat diamond pattern, stepping back in rhythm. Katie and Roscoe swung their blades like paired ninjas. LaCenta and Spud kept their flamethrowers shooting out at regular intervals. Gordon on the right lunged forward low and severed one shambling undead at the knees.

"Score! OOH Rah!" he shouted, as he pulled back into formation.

On the left, Nasir's cheap Craftsman Treesplinterer 5000 shook so hard, he'd only sever something by accident. Gordon shouted for him to keep the blade up. "Remember Heisman!"

Nasir replied in what Neeta thought were Arabic curses. She made a note to learn them. There weren't enough swear words in the English language for her job.

Inside the diamond formation, the on-location film crew huddled and moved with her team. Only one cameraman remained outside.

Neeta ignored him. If Ted got brained, wasn't her problem. Guy was a lunatic, anyway, whooping and getting into the fray. Still, he had good instincts. She'd seen him skip out of the way of a flailing arm just in the nick of time, and once, he used his camera to knock a zombie off Katie before it tore her helmet off. He wore an industrial-grade protective suit and helmet, too. Reckless, but not stupid.

As the last of her trainees cleared the building, Neeta made a wide sweep with the saw, causing the horde to pull back long enough for her to jump out and slam the door. Gordon and Spud braced it shut while she reached into her pockets and pulled out a napalm bomb.

Director Dave screamed, "Stop! No, Neeta, those things are expensive."

Ted the cameraman crouched low to get a good angle as Neeta pulled the pin. Behind the faceplate, she could see him grinning encouragement. Gordon had pulled out some of his own grenades.

She shouted, "Napalm sticks to zombies!" for effect and because, well, Ted was kind of cute.