The Hungry by Steve Hockensmith, Joe McKinney, Harry Shannon, Steven Booth

wait for another opportunity to cut his throat. She braced herself.
    The next thing Miller knew the handcuffs that had secured her wrists clattered to the cement behind her. She was free.
    "Come on, Sheriff," Scratch said, quietly. "We ain't got much time. Get on my bike and let's just get us the fuck out of here."
    Miller was stunned. "But I thought..."
    "If you're worried about not getting laid, I promise to fuck your brains out some other time. Right now, we gotta go! " Scratch pushed her toward the bike.
    "Wait," Miller said. "We can't just leave them."
    "Them?"
    "Terrill Lee and Darla. Look, you know they'll kill Terrill Lee if we leave him behind, and Darla will suffer for having let us escape. Damn it Scratch, after the hell your gang put her through, you owe it to Darla to at least get her out of here before the zombies come."
    "Why does everything have to be so fucking complicated with you, woman?" Scratch said, clearly exasperated.
    "I saved your life." Miller looked him dead in the eyes.
    "That you did, lady."
    "So I thought your one rule was 'look after your own.'"
    Scratch stared at her. His face reddened. He took her by the arm and dragged her back toward the cruiser. "Damn it, I try to do one decent thing in my life, and you have to make a big deal of it. Get in the back." Scratch handed her the set of keys to the handcuffs. Smiling, Miller opened the door and hopped back in next to her ex-husband. Darla looked over her skinny shoulder, confused and blinking like a crackhead.
    "What the hell?" Terrill Lee gaped as Miller unlocked his cuffs.
    Scratch opened the front door. He waved his gun at Darla. "Slide over."
    She did. Scratch got in the driver seat. He started the cruiser up.
    Darla shook her head. "What the fuck, Scratch?"
    "I'll explain everything when we're a hundred miles from here." He stepped on the accelerator. Scratch spun the cruiser in a wide arc. Dirt sprayed everywhere. He deliberately knocked over several of the Blood Rider's bikes to slow the gang down when they tried to pursue. Finally, Scratch peeled out of town, leaving a long trail of rubber behind him. Meanwhile, Miller watched out the dusty back window. She saw several of the bikers rush out of the stores to stare after them. They argued back and forth as they grew smaller in size. Eventually, several moved to the working bikes and started them up.
    "Damn it," said Scratch.
    "I saw them," said Miller. "They are going to follow us."
    "No, not them," said Scratch. "Look up ahead."
    Miller turned and gasped. A huge group of zombies were clumped together on the road ahead of them, limping and stumbling. One woman was missing her right hip but kept moving forward. There were children among them, one a toddler in diapers. As they raced closer the group of creatures seemed to grow in size. Miller counted rapidly. What now seemed like nearly a hundred zombies blocked the road ahead, and back behind them the first wave of Blood Riders were approaching fast. They were between the proverbial rock and a boner hard place.
    Miller craned her neck. She swiveled her head to and fro to keep an eye on both threats at once. Terrill Lee whimpered. Darla closed her eyes and hummed. Scratch cursed a blue streak but kept driving.
    Miller said, "Well, I do believe that this is going to suck."

SIX
     
     
    "Hold on!" screamed Scratch. Miller winced and covered her ears. His voice was much too loud in the enclosed car. He pressed down on the accelerator, heading directly for the mass of writhing, stumbling, gory creatures blocking their path. Miller covered her eyes instead, but then peered through her fingers. A doctor and nurse covered with gore stumbled along with the mob of creatures. The doctor still wore his stethoscope in his ears, the end clutched in one bony hand.
    Miller found herself shouting. "Scratch, just what the hairy, bad-assed hell do you think you are doing ?"
    Scratch spat on the floor. He never took his foot off the gas pedal. "Don't worry,