30 Minute Plan

By Gerald Dean Rice

It's the dusk of the zombie apocalypse. What's left of mankind is huddled in the husks of the cities of the world. There are fewer of the walking dead, but they are just as dangerous as ever. After scientists come up with the brilliant idea of scent-marking them something goes wrong and a soldier is taken. When a fellow 'dog' decides to take matters into his own hands to rescue his comrade he finds the living dead are more dangerous than ever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Razorline Press
• Release date: Feb 22, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458177254

Gerald Dean Rice

Okay, my last biography was loooooong and boring. I didn't realize how dull it was until I actually tried to go back and read it. Blah-blah-blah. Anyway. I'm Gerald Dean Rice. Used to be Gerald Rice--I suppose I still am, but all future works shall include my middle name. It's a rebranding thing. I've always been into horror. When I was in kindergarten my mother took me right from school to see Creepshow. I saw a ton of stuff I shouldn't have when I was a kid. I got a book of ghost stories when I was 11 for Christmas. These were the days before YA novels, unless you picked up one of those namby-pamby VC Andrews books. Okay, scratch that; I've never actually read a VC Andrews book. But the more I read and the older I got the more I wanted to write my own stories. I tried my hand at writing comic book stories with my best friend in high school, but we had no clue how to break into comics. I submitted my first story to Cemetery Dance back in 2000. It took somewhere around 7 months for the to respond. I was so proud even though they'd rejected me. The truth of it was it wasn't a very original story and it was very straightforward. There was a whole lot I didn't know about writing back then. But I learned pretty quick and have since had stories published in print and on-line. My first novel, "The Ghost Toucher", was published in 2010. It was born out of several failed novel-writing attempts and I'm immensely proud of what I created. I've since put out a couple short collections of my own and a few zombie shorts. My newest project, "Fleshbags" was just published. I kind of had a "In Treatment" thing in my head like when Paul's patients have some aspect of them reflected in his personal life. I blended my characters that way (tough to explain what I mean). But it's definitely something different than you've ever read and I'd suggest giving it a try.

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30 Minute Plan

By Gerald Rice

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Gerald Rice

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

30 Minute Plan copyright © 2011

Written by Gerald Rice. All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, places or events is purely coincidental and unintended. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical or written, without express permission from the author.

For more information about the author, please visit his website: www.feelmyghost.webs.com.

30 Minute Plan

Lemons, strawberries, oranges…

Life was a fucking joke.

Danton was certain of it now. If the dead rising to feast on the living hadn’t been enough, now the brains had found a way to make them smell like fruit.

‘Scent marking’ the head brain had called it. Just trying to recall any of the long explanation as to why the brains had the dogs risk their necks to spray the stuff on packs of ziggies made his head hurt. It was well past us or them time and this was the best they could come up with?

It made Danton want to start his own thirty-minute plan.

General Tarver had noticed the ziggies traveled in packs four years ago. He’d reported it back to the brains and finally, two weeks ago Dr. Boyle had slapped a canister in Cargill’s hands with the word ‘lemon’ written with a sharpie on it. They’d given Danton one with ‘strawberry’ written on it and Tookes one with ‘orange’.

Their orders were simple enough: walk outside and find the biggest pack of ziggies and spray them down with this stuff.

Danton was ready to tell the pretty young brain who’d handed him his to go shove, but he was a soldier. A dog. He obeyed.

Slow or not, going outside was risky when ziggy was about. Danton was fast and he hustled until he came in contact with a pack. He’d almost threw down the canister and drew down on them, but no. There had to have been an explanation for this. He just didn’t like sticking out his neck before he’d heard it.

He waited until the lead one was just within twenty feet then began spraying them. It was a thick red fluid and yep, it did have the strong scent of strawberries. They didn’t seem to mind too much, even when he got it in their mouths. Danton circled the pack of ziggies, spraying them until the canister was empty.

Then the oddest thing: they turned and shambled away.

Danton shook himself out of his stance. He felt dull, like a knife that had been used too many times; he’d killed so many, destroyed so many more…

Had to go help Tookes. The sooner the other dogs were done the sooner they were all done. He