Dead Reckoning

Dead Reckoning

Mercedes Lackey, Rosemary Edghill

Language: English

Pages: 336

ISBN: 1599906848

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Jett is a girl disguised as a boy, living as a gambler in the old West as she searches for her long-lost brother. Honoria Gibbons is a smart, self-sufficient young woman who also happens to be a fabulous inventor. Both young women travel the prairie alone - until they are brought together by a zombie invasion! As Jett and Honoria investigate, they soon learn that these zombies aren't rising from the dead of their own accord ... but who would want an undead army? And why? This gunslinging, hair-raising, zombie western mashup is perfect for fans of Cowboys vs. Aliens and Pride & Prejudice & Zombies.

Plague of the Dead (Morningstar Saga, Book 1)

Bloodstone (Deadtown, Book 3)

After the End

The Risen: Remnants

Paul Is Undead

Alice in Zombieland (White Rabbit Chronicles, Book 1)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

other horses. She looped his reins at the saddle horn as the stallion gazed scornfully down his aristocratic nose at the dusty cow-ponies. She patted his shoulder—bidding a temporary farewell to a good friend—and stepped up onto the weathered wood sidewalk in front of the saloon. A feeling of weary familiarity descended on her as she stepped through the batwing doors and paused, stripping off her gloves as she let her eyes adjust to the gloom. Sawdust covered the floor, kerosene lamps—the only

the house, and a younger female came running across the yard to join her. Each of them picked up one bucket, and they began to walk carefully back the way they’d come. White Fox heard Jett sigh. “Well, they aren’t zombies,” she said grudgingly. “And after what I saw last night, I don’t think the zombies would leave anyone alive wherever they went. But they came here,” she finished, a faint questioning note in her voice. “Whatever attacked Alsop came here,” White Fox agreed. “It would have

obviously doesn’t smell like carrion to Cathartes aura,” Gibbons said grandly. “The turkey vulture has a keen sense of smell and can locate prey up to a mile away, you know.” “Is there anything—” Jett began. The corpse of Finlay Maxwell flung itself at the door of its prison. It had moved so fast neither Jett nor Gibbons saw it get to its feet. The zombies they’d seen before moved with deliberation. Jett thought they couldn’t move any faster. She’d been wrong. Its body hit the bars of the

darkness of a coffin, accidentally buried alive. How much more horrible would it be if life—if awareness—were called back into a body truly dead? It drew back momentarily, but only to grip the bars in its hands and rattle the door in a frenzy. “There was rust on the hinges,” Gibbons whispered in a small voice. For a moment Jett didn’t understand. Then she did. Rusted hinges might give way. “Get back,” she said, drawing one of her pistols. “If it gets out, I’ll shoot out the lamp.” If she

tensed in fear as they reached her, but they passed her too. Now White Fox raised the nozzle of his hose so the spray of water showered over the remaining zombies as if it were rain. The creatures continued to ignore him. Every one of them was heading for Brother Shepherd. The hose went limp. The wagon’s reservoirs were dry. As the last of the water sputtered from the nozzle in a falling arc, White Fox dropped it to the ground. In the instant it took Jett to realize the temperature was rising,

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