Fighter's Bite

By William Todd Rose

In the post-apocalyptic ruins, ex-prizefighter Bruno Swaggart makes his living the only way he's ever known how: one opponent, two gloves, and a bloodthirsty crowd urging him on. But the world has changed... now the undefeated champion bobs and weaves for his life, trusting that the next punch will not be his last. For when you're boxing against the living dead, all bets are off....

• Language: English
• Publisher: William Todd Rose
• Release date: Jun 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301430789

William Todd Rose

Named by the Google+ Insider's Guide as one of their top 32 authors to follow, William Todd Rose writes dark, speculative fiction which often lends itself to the bizarre and macabre. With short stories appearing in various magazines and anthologies, his body of work also includes the novels Cry Havoc, Shut The Fuck Up and Die!, The Dead and Dying, and The Seven Habits of Highly Infective People, as well as the short story collection Sex in the Time of Zombies. For more information on the author, including links to free fiction, please visit him online at www.williamtoddrose.com

Book preview

FIGHTER’S BITE

by

William Todd Rose

Copyright 2012

Smashwords Edition

(originally published in Zombie Tales, Undead Press, 2012)

FIGHTER’S BITE

The dented metal door muffled the roar of the crowd, but Bruno Swaggart  could tell the house was packed.  Drunk on moonshine, the audience banged aluminum chairs against the floor and the dull clangs echoed through the gymnasium like misfiring pistons.  The erratic rhythm punctuated a cacophony of cat calls, shrill whistles, and a hundred voices vying for dominance in a sea of chaos.  Despite having weapons checked at the door, a few unruly spectators somehow managed to smuggle sidearms into the old school and the occasional gunshot rang out above the din... but there were always a few in every crowd.  Most didn’t harbor any nefarious schemes – they were just good-old-boys who’d grown up embracing the concept that a party wasn’t a party unless there was some sort of gunplay involved.

At one point in his life, Bruno had thrived on the incomprehensible murmur of an expectant audience.  It had stirred something within him, working him into a frenzy in the same way that drums excited a tribal dancer.