He scrutinized everything in a surreal slow-mo state, noticing for the first time the fake birdhouses built into the peaks of the garages. The neighborhood’s corny bird theme was definitely getting on his nerves.
He counted six houses down and focused in on the safehouse with the compact binocs he always wore around his neck. “No way!” He zoomed in tighter. Shattered windows! Movement inside! Their safehouse had been invaded.
“They’re okay,” Justin muttered over and over. Dean knew the drill; he would have gotten everyone out the upstairs window. But to where?
“The hair cutting place,” a tiny voice hounded.
He sensed Twila’s urgency. Still, he hated it when she invaded his mind like that. So rude. Wasn’t there a cosmic law against that? And why the heck had they gone back to the strip mall?
“You’re welcome,” Twila snarked.
A horde lurched his way in ghastly excitement. He pushed the pedals so hard he feared they might break. Justin flew past the intersections as more and more Zs rambled into the streets.
He stopped to scan Bixby Avenue. “The hell?” Zs on bicycles? A bicyclist waited in the intersection. It waved at him.
“Phew, that’s Scarlett . . .” Justin wiped the gunk off the binocular’s lenses, feeling like a douche.
He pedaled like crazy, wanting to know what was happening. He was about to ask what was going on when Scarlett shushed him and pointed to Main Street. He heeded the warning. She led the way through deserted streets until they came to the strip mall.
“We’ll talk inside,” Scarlett whispered as they silently parked their bikes next to the barbershop.
After they entered the barbershop, Dean shoved a sheet of plywood in front of the glass door. “Hell’s bells, where’s Luther?”
“Long story. I think he’s okay—” Justin scanned the room for Ella.
“You think . . .” Dean was ready to rip into him.
He needed to see Ella and Mateo like now! There she was, behind the counter, rocking Mateo in the baby sling around her chest. He rushed to her, but Ella wouldn’t look at him. “How’s Mateo?”
He was answered by the irksome silent treatment. Ella often went speechless during extreme bouts of depression. “What happened?” What he really wanted to know was how they had escaped the safehouse. With Ella. Lately, the most she had walked was to the bathroom.
“If I didn’t know better,” Dean said. “I’d say the hordes are corralling us.”
Scarlett turned to him. “Twila’s friend, Katy, is helping us. The creepers think we’re hiding in a house—”
“A blue house,” Twila corrected.
Justin couldn’t stop gaping. Was everyone insane?
‘I know,” Dean intervened. “This mumbo jumbo’s beyond me. But we can’t deny the facts. And the facts are, there’s no way we would have escaped the safehouse with Twila, Ella, and the baby without Katy’s help.”
Twila gave him one of her kooky cross-eyed grimaces, which told him she was hacking his brain again. Did she know about the bus?
“Don’t think it,” Twila scolded. “Katy and I are tricking them. Pretend you’re sleeping in a pretty blue house.”
“Twila told us about the b-u-s,” Scarlett said.
“So, now we’re spelling out words?” Justin scuffed his shoes on the tiled floor, trying not to spout off about how crazy they sounded.
Ella’s lashes fluttered disdain as if all of this was his fault. But, she had been the one who had insisted on living in Last State. Not him. He bit his tongue when her attitude quickly melted into despair at Mateo’s sudden grayish-blue skin tone.
“We need a miracle.” Ella dropped to her knees and laid the Archangel Michael pendant he had given her over Mateo’s chest. She murmured frantically in Spanish, praying.
Time for some good news. “Guys, guys, Luther gave—”
“The Andara! It’s the miracle that visited my dreams.” Twila took the glass shard from his hand. “Ooh, it tingles with the Prima Matra!” She awed. “Didn’t you feel it?”
“It did get kinda hot.” How did she know what it was called? “Get this, Luther’s Voodoo aunt has been the guardian of this magical crystal-like glass for decades. Now, Luther is—” Backstory overload. Luther could explain all that later. “Anyone have a cup?” He tried remembering everything Luther had told him. “We’re supposed to steep the crystal-glass in water. Like a teabag. But in the moonlight or sunlight.”
“It’s too late,” Ella bemoaned. Mateo’s face had turned a shade bluer. Dying before their eyes.
Dean handed him a tin camping cup from his pack. Scarlett quickly filled it with water from her canteen and then put the Andara into the cup. “It is powerful.” She seemed enthralled by it.
He’d try anything to save his son. Even if it was just the placebo effect. Not sure what to do next, he simply watched Twila dip her fingers into the water and then sprinkle Mateo with it.
“I’ll pour some of the infused water in a bottle.” Scarlett unzipped the pack on Ella’s back. “Did you pack a bottle in your go-bag?”
“Uh-huh,” Ella mumbled. Her go-bag was filled with newborn stuff.
Justin threw up his hands. “What about the moonlight and sunlight part?”
“The crystal is still charged,” Scarlett said optimistically.
Twila snatched the Andara and began hovering it over Mateo’s body. “Ooh, he likes it when I sweep it over his cute, little baby chakras.” Twila giggled.
Justin couldn’t stop rolling his eyes.
Twila grimaced. “How can you be such a hardheaded poop? You know more than anyone—how powerful crystals are. They use them in computers.”
“That’s science. Not magic,” he retorted caustically.
“Why do they use crystals in computers?” Scarlett asked.
“Yeah, tell me that, Mr. Computer Guy,” Twila egged on.
“Uh, as an oscillator.” Justin had never really thought about it.
“Why not use some electronic gizmo?” Dean butted in.
“Duh,” Twila blurted. “Because crystals are perfect power sources.”
Ready to contradict whatever Twila had to say, Justin quickly added, “It has something to do with the frequency they give off.”
“Exactly,” Scarlett said. “Frequencies, or rather the energies they emit can be harnessed. Not just for computers but for people as well.”
“Huh, I never thought of it like that. Crystals actually work on people,” Justin sheepishly conceded. “Amal-zing!”
Twila stuck out her tongue. “Told you!”
“Alrighty folks.” Dean glanced at the baby warily. “All of this—is enlightening. However, we can’t stay here. They could ambush us.”
“I’m not done working on baby Mateo,” Twila whined.
“Guys, Dean’s right. We should wait for Luther on the bus,” Justin stated firmly. It was idiotic to stay in the Forbidden Zone with hordes searching for them.
Dean frowned quizzically. “So, Luther is coming back?”
Justin nodded. “I think so,” he mouthed with uncertainty.
Dean gave him the grouchy grandfather grimace.
“You know Luther. It’s not like I could stop him,” Justin clapped back in his defense.
“What was so damned important?” Dean harped.
“Luther went to the lodge.” Justin let out a long breath. Suck it up and just tell them. “To see if Mindy and Starla somehow survived.”
“Oh.” That shut up Dean. He paced around, shaking his head and rubbing his chest. “Tell me ’bout the bus. Diesel or gasoline?”
“Gas. It’s a 2016. With a ninety-eight-gallon tank, three-quarters full.”
Dean always seemed to have a map for wherever they were, which he spread out on the register’s counter. “That might be just enough petrol to get us there.”
“Get this,” Justin continued, hoping to cheer Ella. “It’s got four beds, a propane stove, oven, mini-fridge. And—wait for it—a fl
ushing toilet,” he announced like it was the presidential suite. “It’s even got a shower.” His news only earned him pensive smiles.
Dean was more interested in the map than the bus. He cursed under his breath. “Detouring ’round the Forbidden Zone adds another blasted two hun’erd miles.”
“Um,” Justin stalled, reluctant to give them more bad news. “Another thing, I ran into my ex-coworker DiNozzo. He warned X-strain armies are digging tunnels into the inner Zones. And the power grid goes down at midnight, so expect more lockdowns.”
Scarlett’s hands flew to her face. “We have to get to Tent City before then . . .”
Ella dropped the bottle. “Is that even possible?” She looked like she was on the verge of a panic attack. He could almost hear her heart thudding in her chest.
“And they started the 6G rollout.” 6G made 5G look like analog. “Which means facial recognition. And brain chips, and—”
“All right, son.” Dean clapped his back. “One crisis at a time.” The apprehension in his voice gave Justin the willies.
Twila screamed. Scarlett rushed to her while he and Dean brandished their weapons. “I see little eyes everywhere! Watching,” Twila trilled with closed trembling eyelids.
“Well then, let’s get on that bus,” Dean said as calm as ever. “Where’d you park it?”
“Next to the Frito-Lay warehouse.”
“It should take us roughly two hours to get to Tent City, being we’re so close to the highway,” Dean stated. “Adding an hour cushion—Luther’s got three hours to get here if we’re to get there before midnight.” Dean set the Rolex’s alarm.
Soft cooing trickled through the barbershop.
“It’s working,” Ella cried out. She rambled off in Spanish with tears clinging to her lush lashes.
“Yay!” Twila pirouetted around the room while the rest of them rushed to Ella’s side.
Mateo’s skin tone had returned to normal. The Andara or whatever it was, had apparently done something. Justin didn’t bother brushing away the renegade tear escaping down his cheek.
Chapter 17
Luther Jones followed the trampled path through the grassy plains, keeping Zac’s clunker at a steady forty MPH where possible. The grinding and clunking of the suspension warned the CV joints were shot. It was only a matter of time before an axle snapped. Breaking down in the middle of nowhere with hordes and Enforcers on the loose . . . “Don’t even go there,” he mumbled.
His irrational impulse to check out Zac’s lodge for Mindy baffled him. Something Scarlett had once said dug into him like a festering splinter: “Listen to your intense feelings and implausible knowings.” He was starting to understand what she meant. An overpowering vibe had him thinking Mindy played a vital role in what Scarlett and Twila called the Grand Plan to Save Hu-manity.
Still, further back in his mind, a cloud of doubt shrouded his impulsive decision. Aunt Matilda hadn’t mentioned anything about Mindy. Which probably meant the young mother hadn’t made it. It had been more than a week since the horde attack on the lodge. Even if she had survived, she’d be long gone by now.
“Spirit don’t tells me everyting.” Aunt Mattie’s words lingered in his mind.
An outbreak of pinpricks needled his tailbone. Flustered, he tried shaking it off. The unnerving kundalini energy ran in nonstop overdrive. This psychic shit needed an on-off switch. A sudden eerie sensation had him thinking he was about to drive off the face of the earth, the land so flat. That’s when he remembered the ravine was up ahead.
From out of nowhere, a troop of tanks climbed up from the ravine into view. He cranked the wheel hard, maneuvering out of their path with inches to spare. The prickling sensation had been a warning. Determined not to give in to fear, he thought up a line of bullshit about working for the lodge. But the troops headed east toward the inner Zones and didn’t hassle him.
It looked like Justin’s friend DiNozzo had been on the up-and-up. Last State was preparing for a clash: hordes or civil unrest? The last tank roared past fifteen minutes later. His excursion was taking longer than anticipated.
Their chancy Tent City escape plan had him wound up in knots. Reality sank in. What were the odds of his friends crossing Last State’s border? Without fatalities. Especially during a Martial Law scenario that included tanks and X-strains.
The lodge loomed ahead, reminding him of his current dilemma. As he approached, knee-high dirt mounds dotted the grounds like an infestation of giant moles. The Mole People! Scenes from the hokey movie that had scared the shit out of him as a kid taunted him with the real-life horrors of today. For those stinking nimrods were actually tunneling into the inner Zones.
The gray-coated ground was a good sign the HAZMAT Team had mopped up. Relief settled in. Still, he felt naked without his M4 and grenades, his SHTF crutch gave him a sense of invincibility.
Boosting his ragged nerves, he decided to snoop around the detached garage first. He stopped in front of the opened barn-like door and turned on the headlights. No signs of life. Not convinced he was as zombie-proof as his aunt had assured, he dug through his duffle for the flak jacket Zac had given him before the attack on Boom Town.
Armed with only his big-ass wrench, he hollered, “Anyone there” before entering the garage.
No signs of danger. The sweet and sour aroma of old hay infused his nostrils. To the far right, a faded tarp reminded him that Zac stored jerrycans of gasoline on site. He yanked off the tarp. “That’s whut I’m talking about!” A pallet of olive-drab green jerrycans awaited.
He loaded the truck’s camper with the precious fuel, leaving one for Zac on the off chance he returned. Which reminded him, Zac had stashed barter items behind the drywall. “Might find something useful.”
Not wanting to run down the truck’s battery, he switched off the headlights, and began searching for the grease X-marks at the base of the walls with a flashlight.
He kicked at the first X he came to and busted through the drywall. “Yeah, baby!” Was this what he thought it was? He opened the military ammo can to find a 9mm with four loaded mags and two boxes of ammo. “Exactly what I need.” So that’s what his new sixth sense had been telling him. I could get used to this heightened awareness.
Luther couldn’t put it off any longer. He cocked his head, listening. “Whut the—” He swore someone had called out his name in panic. He spun around toward the lodge. The tall ladder rested against the third-floor window, exactly where they had left it during the horde attack. The billowing curtains beckoned.
The ladder seemed like a better option. Better than walking in the front door without a backup and his M4. Hmm. He tucked the 9mm into his flak jacket pocket, grabbing his wrench. “Aunt Mattie, wish me luck.” He exhaled deeply. By the time he made it halfway up the ladder, he could no longer deny a woman’s faint pleas.
Eye level with the window, he scoped out the bedroom. Shattered glass glistened in the streaming sunlight. A large hutch-like cabinet lay on the floor. Dean had probably blocked the door with it. Luther hadn’t realized how close Dean, Justin, Ella, and Twila had been to not making it out of there. If he and Zac had shown up five minutes later . . .
“Oof—” He flinched at the amount of dried blood. Everywhere. The floor, the walls, the furniture. The bloodied sheets along with the mattress had been shredded. Of course, Ella had given birth there. Based on a sudden overpowering vibe, he knew the horde had devoured the afterbirth. The realization sent his stomach churning with revulsion.
Still on the ladder, he eyeballed the hallway beyond the bedroom’s ripped off door for movement. He caught a whiff of that horrific stench. It was a dead giveaway. A horde awaited him.
Luther forced a leg over the window ledge, ducking into the room. “Mindy—” Good God Almighty! The shredded mattress flew in the air. A Z lunged for him. In a swift move right out of a Wesley Snipes action film, he sidestepped it, pivoted, and hurled the stinking nimrod out the window with a grand slam swing of his wrench.
“Mindy? It’s me, Luther,” he called out. Would she trust him? He barely knew the young woman who couldn’t be more than sixteen or seventeen.
The back of his neck quivered as he slinked down the hallway like a beefy ballerina. He cocked the 9mm. Ready. Three Zs rushed him from the opened room he approached. He skull-smacked the fastest one with the wrench. It teetered about while another one leaped for him. Luther jumped out of its path, letting it crash to the floor. He stomped in its skull with his boot and turned to face the third one as it pounced. He fired two rounds, catching it in the head. It collapsed to the floor with a dull thud.
The element of surprise lost, he fired rounds at the next three who suddenly emerged. Six gone. Just a mini-horde. No big deal. It must have rambled to the lodge after the HAZMAT mop up.
“Mindy, Ella sent me to find you.” Sure, it was BS, but why would she trust him?
“The attic,” a weak voice trailed off.
She’s alive! He leaned over the third floor’s banister for a quick look below. “Un-fucking-believable!” A horde wriggled around the floor, gnawing on a mangled skeleton. Taking advantage of the horde’s distraction, he eyed the ceiling. Old buildings like this often built attic access in the hallway. Although the attic door could be in one of the bedrooms.
There it is. Luther tugged the cord to the attic’s pull-down ladder. The glow of a fading flashlight greeted him. “Mindy?” He inched his way up the old ladder to find a shadow of a young woman wasting away from lack of food. “Your Uber’s here.”
A gurgling Z spasmed-out at the foot of the ladder, looking a little too enthused for dinner. Luther stepped down and punted it to the end of the hall. The nimrod’s scream pierced his ears. Screamers were the worse. More wails joined in, morphing into howling. The Hunger’s Howl. No, no, no—not X-strains.
Only The Dead Don't Die | Book 4 | Finding Home Page 16