Cold Storage

Cold Storage is a collection of horror stories based on the theme of the undead. It includes tales from some of the most talented authors in the horror genre today. Some have been published extensively, while others are very promising newcomers. The anthology contains stories by Walt Hicks, Carl Hose, Amy Grech, Steven E. Wedel, Paul Melniczek, Horns, Kevin James Miller, L.J. Blount (Myth Spinner) and Paul Fry. Cover art by Mike Bohatch.

From "Scoring" by Carl Hose:

I watch the chick make her way toward my cabin, stopping when she reaches the fresh dead body between us. You have to use some sort of distraction to play the game. Scoring is dangerous without something to occupy the dead bitches. I know people who try to score without using a distraction, but it just ain't a healthy situation, if you know what I mean.

The dead girl takes the bait. She'll be easy, I can see that already. She kneels over the corpse and bends down to eat from the open wound in its stomach, pausing now and again to lick the blood from her thin, crusted lips. Her attention is completely focused. She won't even know I'm there. I can score and be gone before she even finishes her meal.

From "Parts" by Walt Hicks:

Andrew Parkins was well-known by the emergency room staff at both Good Hope and Mercy General Hospitals. Life Longevity, Inc. was an officially government-registered OPO - Organ Procurement Organization. The presumably non-for-profit organization was one of the most efficiently run, administratively conscientious of the lot and it seemed that Andrew Parkins was consistently on-scene whenever availability for possible organ donation presented itself. But Parkins had the reputation as one of the most compassionate, giving, and sympathetic procurement agents the hospitals had ever dealt with. He really seemed to care.

The paramedics wheeled in the young motorcyclist on a blood-spattered gurney. The victim was motionless and his multi-colored helmet lay in two pieces between his bare feet. The face was unrecognizable, the skull split in the center of the forehead, what was left of a ruined brain protruding. You're fucked, bubba, Parkins thought gleefully. He noticed that the unfortunate young man was still being artificially respirated. Keep the goodies nice and fresh, guys.