Feeling lonely, Ella continued organizing while daydreaming they rode a fancy old-fashioned train on their way to their new home. The bus was way better than bouncing around the back of Father Jacob’s old-timey covered wagon. Pregnant. With a pee pot. So much had happened since those hopeless days. And now, they were almost to Tent City. Afraid of having her hopes decimated, she mentally prepared herself for the next disaster.
That reminded her, she definitely wasn’t getting pregnant any time soon. She grabbed the box of condoms Dean had gruffly gifted Justin with earlier. He thought of everything.
Obviously, she was fertile, and although technically she shouldn’t be able to conceive yet, these days, anything could happen. From what she understood about this outlandish quest to save humanity, her part was to have lots of babies. If you want me to have babies, find us a safe place to live, she appealed to the cosmos.
“Patience is a virtue . . . The Gods and Goddesses are toiling out this battle of wills.”
“Shari?” Ella whispered. She quickly clasped her hand over her mouth, hoping no one had overheard, but the engine’s drone filled the bus.
“Just popping in—” Shari’s laughter filled her heart. “I wanted to see how you and your Lightworker friends are managing.”
“We’re okay.” Ella hesitated before asking, “Will we make it out of Last State?”
“I’m afraid things have taken a turn for the worse. The X-strains are clairvoyantly communicating en masse—attempting to manipulate the Infecteds into stopping you. X-strains have vowed to destroy the Lightworkers and Starseeds! They’re searching for the bus. You must proceed with caution. And stay off the main roads!”
A sudden case of the shivers took over. “Thank you for warning us. Shari, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you—” Gruesome images of the demon-Zs devouring Shari invaded her mind. “Was it, uh, unbearable?”
“It was quick. Once I accepted the time had come to leave my 3D reality, I released my attachment to my physical body.”
Ella recognized the torment in her voice. Felt it. It must have been the most horrible thing ever.
“I’ll pop in from time to time—if the powers that be allow,” Shari chimed in her mind.
“Thank you for everything you taught me. How to make baby food, herbology, tinctures—” Ella choked back her tears. Shari had made the ultimate sacrifice for them.
“Take care of your friends. Tudaloo, ’til our future-selves meet again . . .” And, just like that, a swish of air surged through Ella’s heart. Shari was gone.
Ella hurried to the front of the bus.
Justin looked over his shoulder. “Hey, hon, the enchiladas are driving me cray-cray. Are they ready yet?”
She ignored him.
Scarlett rubbed her shoulders, sensing her anxiety. “Ella, what’s wrong?”
Looking out the windshield, Ella could no longer ignore the horde activity. Zs everywhere. They just stood there and watched the bus drive past, standing in awe as if watching a spectacular parade.
Dean caught her bewildered stare. “Bizarre, isn’t it? I feel like royalty with the townsfolk standing outside just to watch us drive by.”
“Ye-ah, like a zombie edition of Downton Abbey,” Justin quipped.
They better not start bowing and waving. “This is gonna sound sooo cuh-ray-zee,” Ella started. “I just got a message from—Shari. Apparently, X-strains are communicating with the regular Zs. They’re supposed to stop us from leaving the Forbidden Zone!”
“Hell’s bells!” Dean rubbed his puffy eyes.
“Uh,” Justin groaned. “Isn’t Shari dead?”
“Technically, yes,” Scarlett intervened. “Maybe Shari’s our new spirit guide. I haven’t heard from the Silver Lady in a while.”
“Shari said to get off the main roads. Like now,” Ella added with urgency.
Dean snatched the map from Scarlett. “Adding more miles to this god-forsaken trip.”
Their commotion must have woken up Luther. He made his way toward them. “Whut up?” He smacked his face as if trying to wake up.
“How are you feeling?” Scarlett asked.
“Like a Browns quarterback who just got sacked by his own team.” Luther flashed a haggard smile. His wounds seemed to be healing miraculously.
“There’s another change of plan.” Dean pointed to the windshield. “We’re sticking to the byroads. Justin, watch for Rural Route Forty-nine. Sometime in the next twenty miles or so.”
They must all be wondering if they were making it out of the Forbidden Zone—alive.
“Look at those stinking nimrods.” Luther gasped. “Gawking at us. That’s some spookly shit.” His stomach rumbled. “Hate to be rude, but ol’ Luther here’s about to pass out due to cruel and unusual punishment.”
“And what might that be,” Dean asked crossly.
“Starvation!” Luther accused.
“Dude, you’ve got enough extra pounds to last you a month?” Justin snarked.
“Watch it,” Luther snarked back with a hearty laugh. “You all don’t want to be around me when I’m starving. I get as cantankerous as Dean.”
That got a quick laugh from Dean.
Anxious to do something useful, Ella said, “I’ll dish out plates for everyone.”
“God bless you, Ella.” Luther inhaled deeply. “I detect chicken enchiladas in a spicy red chili sauce,” he mimicked in a phony French accent.
“They smell absolutely delicious,” Scarlett attested.
“Don’t think my stomach can hold out much longer,” Dean said. “While I’m eating, I’ll recalculate the mileage.”
“Don’t blame me if they taste funky. It’s just freeze-dried stuff,” Ella forewarned.
“It has to be better than that green-slime Jell-O casserole I made at the lodge,” Justin said.
Ella grimaced. “I wasn’t going to remind you. Ever!”
The bus faltered.
“Son, stop messing with the accelerator—” Dean griped.
Justin turned around at them with wide eyes—eyes that said he wasn’t goofing around. He tapped the gas pedal repeatedly.
“I don’t hear the engine. It must have stalled,” Luther said.
“Uh, actually,” Justin hesitated. “I think it’s out gas.”
“How’d that happen? Dean grumbled.
“How’s the steering?” Luther added.
“Dude, like impossible.” It took both hands for Justin to change lanes.
“According to the trip mileage gauge,” Dean muttered, “we shouldn’t have to refuel for another fifty miles.”
Justin kept trying to start the engine. Worried faces swayed back and forth from the grandstanding hordes outside to Justin at the wheel as if immersed in a tense tennis match.
“Let me have a go at it,” Dean practically ordered.
Justin moved out of his way, so Dean could take the wheel. Still, the bus wouldn’t start.
“Uh, guys.” Justin’s voice trembled. “The Zs are getting—curious. There’s a bunch of them following us!”
Ella couldn’t stop looking out the window, holding her heart when the Zs rushed the bus from both sides.
“Did the engine burnout?” Scarlett asked.
Both Dean and Luther shook their heads.
“Do something!” Ella cried out.
Dean repeatedly clicked the dashboard buttons. “The trip gauge hasn’t ticked in the past minute. Son of a—I do believe it’s on the fritz along with the fuel tank gauge. Could have blown a fuse.”
“An electrical short?” Luther threw out there.
“Whatever it is, we need to fuel up,” Dean said bluntly.
Luther shook his head. “With hundreds of them out there? We don’t have enough ammo—”
“Well, I’m not gonna sit on my ass,” Justin yelled from the hatch. “Luther, hand me a gas can.”
“Son, you can’t—” Dean started.
“I’m going for it!” Justin shouted back with determina
tion.
A wide smile spread across Luther’s face. “Bro, I get where you’re going with this. I’ll hold you by your legs. While you fill the tank. Dean, stand by to start the bus.”
“Guess we’re plumb out of options.” Dean shook his head. “I’ll cut across to that field. See how far we coast. Should give you time to get in a few gallons before those things mob the bus.”
“Can we do that? Refuel—without stopping?” Scarlett asked.
“Yes and no,” Dean answered curtly.
“Well, we’re doing it,” Justin shouted as he squirmed through the hatch.
“O-M-G!” They’re doing this—now? Without thinking it through. Ella turned to Scarlett. “This is a bad idea—”
Scarlett grabbed the M4 and climbed up through the hatch behind Luther. “Scarlett?”
Dean patted down his hunting vest. “Ella dear, give these to Luther. As a security measure.” He handed her several bungee cords. “And, wipe that frown off your face. Sometimes you just have to improvise.”
“Sure.” Ella took the bungees without an ounce of bravery.
Ella looked in on Mateo and Twila on her way to the hatch. Twila’s twitching closed eyes told her she was in defense mode. She didn’t bother checking on Mindy; she was probably meditating too. She grabbed her bat before stepping onto the bucket to reach the hatch.
Once she was on top of the bus, the groaning Zs flooded her with a nauseous wave of lightheadedness. No! She thrust back her fear. She was no longer the timid teenager she had been during the beginning of the pandemic.
She handed the bungees to Luther and fought for her balance as the bus trampled across a grassy field. She carefully took in the scene: Zs scrambling after the slowing bus, Luther securing a bungee around Justin’s waist, and Scarlett angling for a strategic position precariously near the edge of the bus.
Ella caught eye contact with Justin and blew him a kiss a second before he disappeared over the edge of the bus. She inched as close to the edge as she dared, realizing he was the only one nimble enough to attempt such an insane feat.
Luther held Justin over the edge of the bus by his ankles.
Zs stumbled closer.
What can I do?
“Gas cap’s off!” Justin yelled. He let it dangle against the side of the bus.
“Scarlett, wrap the bungee around the gas can’s handle. And lower it!”
Ella should have thought of that. So immersed, she had even forgotten to say her Hail Marys. She walked to the end of the bus as the mega-horde scurried after them. Idiot! Do something! The horde was almost to the bus. And the bus was rolling to a stop.
“That’s it!” A distraction! Before she realized it, she started chanting a high school cheer. “Zombie’s suck—spell it out! Zombie’s suck—spell it out.” But she couldn’t remember how to form the Z. Who cares? It wasn’t like her cheerleader cousin was there judging her.
The horde stopped at the back of the bus, craning their necks at her. Forming letters with her hands, more like drawing them in the air, she continued making a spectacle of herself. She couldn’t remember any of the cheers Lolita had taught her. So, she just shouted out random statements.
But when the gun went off, Ella spun around to check on Justin. More gunshots! They weren’t supposed to fire their weapons in the Forbidden Zone. Justin had repeatedly warned not to. If anyone just outside the Forbidden Zone reported gunfire, Enforcers would send patrols.
Her corpse-like audience must have realized her ruse. They shuffled on. Ella ran to warn Justin. Suddenly, the bus started moving.
“Guys! Pull me up!”
The words she’d been waiting for, the words she thought she would never hear.
Luther pulled him by the ankles and nearly flung him onto the top of the bus. Just in time!
“Easy-peasy.” But the tremor in Justin’s voice revealed his terror.
Ella dropped to her knees and lavished him with tender kisses.
Chapter 23
Justin Chen scouted the northern horizon from the roof rack with his nifty binoculars. He zoomed in on the Forbidden Zone’s border wall, afraid of what awaited them on the other side.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” They were still there. And he hadn’t mentioned anything to Dean . . .
His thoughts jumbled into a massive headache. How were they making it out of Last State? Alive? Luther made out like he was tough shit, but he was still spaced-out from drinking the Andara tea. Scarlett hadn’t been her usual kick-ass self since Zac left. Ella worried about Mateo every freaking second of the day, and Twila was delusional most the time.
Don’t get him started on Mindy. To say he resented her, was an understatement. She didn’t do a damn thing except goo-goo over Starla. A part of him wished Luther hadn’t found her.
This was totally whacked. The best fighter watching his back was a sixty-something man. What if Dean stroked on him during a horde attack?
A bright light flittered around his eyes. He let the binocs dangle from his neck while rubbing his strained eyes. Weird. The lights turned into ones and zeros. He pulled the tarp completely over his head, shielding him from the intense sunlight. Was he having one of those optical migraines Dad used to get? Sure, he easily envisioned binary code when thinking of computer coding, but the only thing on his mind was getting to Tent City.
Perplexed, Justin waited for the random flashes of ones and zeros to fade away. “Amal-zing.” The numbers morphed into an exploding star in his mind’s eye, blinding him. Trillions of light particles danced about before snapping into position like a celestial Lite-Brite creating a Shangri-La scene in a lush valley of wildflowers surrounded by forests and babbling creeks.
A sensation of timelessness whirled around him as if he were no longer part of this dying earth, as if he existed in a different dimension where evil no longer dominated. People laughed and ate around a firepit while children played on tire swings strung from trees and jumped into the creek.
Uh, is that Mateo—all grown-up? It had to be. A man in his twenties with Ella’s lovely smile and his Asian eyes kissed the woman next to him. The blue-eyed woman reminded him of Mindy. Starla—twenty years from now? She was shorter than Mindy. To his surprise, his inner vision panned to the grinning baby in Starla’s arms. Hey—that’s my grandson! It was more of an internal knowing.
Justin was about to shake away the dreamy mirage. But he couldn’t. He cherished it. The Imax screen in his mind took in every detail. Wait a minute. It seemed like an alternate reality, like one of those artsy indie films with different endings. Was he seeing a possible future? His future? A sadness stung his heart when he realized he didn’t see Ella, Dean, Scarlett, or Luther in that future . . .
Twila always bragged about getting cosmic downloads of information. Was this what it was like? Had he just accessed that metaphysical library, the Akashic Records? Mom used to astonish him with her beliefs on quantum spirituality, saying people existed everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
Blue-fiery letters whirled around his head. “Believe,” a magical voice whispered. “Father of our New Hu. A wonderful future awaits. If only you remain firm and correct and navigate the correct path through the maze of deceit. Beware, for evil lurks behind every erroneous decision! Farewell kindred spirit, and remain true to your heart . . .”
He threw off the tarp. “Is this for real?” Justin shouted to the sky.
His overactive imagination went bonkers, suddenly envisioning a GIF of a Dalai Lama-like monk chanting, “Hey dumbass, have faith. Shangri-La is out there somewhere—waiting for you if you get your shit together and go for it. No matter how impossible it seems.”
“Ye-ah, right. Okay.” So maybe spirit guides actually existed, only he had been too dense to accept it.
A jet whizzed across the skyline, streaking the sky with white. Another vision or was the jet occurring in real-time? No wonder Twila and Scarlett seemed confused at times.
“Son, what the hell was that?” Dean poked his head
up through the hatch.
“Uh, uh, a jet! Drones at the wall,” Justin finally realized. Had they spotted the bus? “Stop under the overpass!”
The bus braked hard. He held onto the rack, afraid he might sling-shot over the border wall. Meep! Meep! The Roadrunner’s voice jib-jabbed, eroding what was left of his sanity.
The air brakes let out a reluctant belching-puff. They stopped under the overpass, hidden in shadow. But if that had been a reconnaissance jet, it was only a matter of time before a SWAT team came for them. Justin rushed down the rear ladder a second before the backdoor flew open.
Dean’s burrowed brows greeted him. Another jet roared by. “What’s going on? Surely Last State’s not bringing in the cavalry for a hippy-dippy bus of dissidents,” Dean rambled, scanning the sky.
“Heck no. Usually, jets monitor the Gulf of Mexico for rogue militias.” Last State wouldn’t waste their precious jet fuel. “Something hu-mon-gous,” he enunciated slowly, “must be happening!”
Luther jumped out the rear exit, followed by Scarlett.
“Scarlett, we could use your input,” Dean said, not budging from his binoculars.
With closed fluttering eyelids, Scarlett stood there with her fingers pressed to her forehead. He and Luther eyed each other pensively, waiting.
She let out a long gush of air. “All I see is a dark chasm of nothingness.”
“Meaning what?” Dean prodded.
“I used to see the void when the Ancient Ones blocked me from accessing the Akashic Records. But, the Akashic Records have been erased. The future—humanity’s future. No longer exists,” Scarlett gloomily revealed with obvious acceptance. Had she given up?
Justin wanted to blab out to them—to the whole world, “But it does!” A wonky feeling warned to shut the heck up. As if someone was listening. An abrasive hum wore on his edgy nerves. Just the bus cooling down, he decided. It made all kinds of funky noises. But this sounded—otherworldly.
Scarlett held her finger to her lips and looked up at the undercarriage of the overpass. She heard it too? They followed her line of sight. She shined the flashlight at the concrete underbelly. Justin closed his eyes and hoped for an image that showed him what was going on. A swarm of blackbirds rendered him blind.
Only The Dead Don't Die | Book 4 | Finding Home Page 21