Dean glanced around at their despondent faces. “Might as well.”
“Want me to come with?” Luther asked.
It looked like Luther needed a break too. “I’m good.” Besides, alone time gave him a chance to do some serious fracking after scarfing chili beans for lunch.
“Fire off a round at the first sign of trouble,” Dean said. “And we’ll be there.”
Justin set his pack next to Ella. “Back in a few minutes.” He kissed her clammy cheek.
“Hon, be careful.” She blew him a kiss.
Justin fought back the crippling pain cramping his calves as he sprinted down the road, aware of every movement in the horizon. That bridge better be there. He daydreamed of the day they found their new home. But his vivid dreams of a lush land promising a new life were fleeting—like the mirages wavering in the distance. So close, yet nonexistent.
A flapping sound from behind startled him. He turned around to find a super large bird swooping down on him. “Holy crap! You’ve got to be the ugliest bird ever.” He swung at it with the tire iron. It flapped past him.
Hissing and gnawing caught his attention. Something was on the other side of a rusted-old truck stranded in the road. Zs? With the tire iron at the ready, he turned the truck’s corner to disturb a flock of disgusting birds feeding on a carcass. Just buzzards.
He sprinted until the pavement disappeared beneath his feet. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Apparently, the Bridge Toll Takers had destroyed the bridge. “You guys, suck!” Justin belted out to the merciless desert. He had met a Bridge Toll Taker gang once. These men went around blowing up bridges, leaving people no choice but to pay outrageous tolls for the insta-bridges they temporarily assembled.
Justin trampled as close as he could get to the fast-flowing creek-like river. It was too steep. Too dangerous. And not a single freaking boat in sight. He took a quick piss in private. Dreading Ella’s disappointment, he sprinted back and forced himself out of his free-falling depression. He had to stay strong for Ella.
Feeling reckless, he ran daringly close to the vultures. They hissed and hovered over the carcass and then pecked at each other, fighting for a spot on what must have been a dog or a coyote. He resisted the urge to swing away at them to release his pent-up tension. They were just desperate animals—trying to survive—just like him.
By the time Justin reached his friends, his dismal mood must have answered their question. He just shook his head. Poor Ella. She hunched over and cried. Twila was the first to comfort her. For that’s how tired he was. He didn’t even have the energy to comfort the love of his life.
“I feel them—” Mindy whispered in a faraway tone.
“I do too,” Scarlett confirmed.
“Don’t be scared,” Twila chirped. “It’s like we’re hiding under an umbrella lost in time.”
“What the heck does that mean?” Justin chastised under his breath.
“Was it blown up?” Luther had to ask.
“Ye-ah. I don’t think they left any bridges . . .”
“Can we cross the creek?” Dean asked.
“No way. The water’s too fast.”
“There’s always a Plan B,” Scarlett intoned.
Scarlett and her Plan Bs. The last time it had almost gotten them killed. But, he didn’t want to be a Debbie-Downer.
“Folks, listen up.” Dean wasn’t looking so well. He definitely needed an SPF 10,000 sunscreen. “Got some good news. And some bad news.”
“Good God,” Luther bellowed, retying a soaked do-rag around his head. “I can’t take any more bad news.”
“According to the map, there’s a KOA campground ’bout four miles northwest of here.” Dean pointed to his raggedy map. “If we cut across here and pick it up a notch, we’ll get there in an hour or so.”
Twila started skipping around. “Ooh, I think we can fish there.”
“Please tell me it has cabins,” Ella pleaded, rocking Mateo.
“Yep, it’s got the cabin and fishing symbols right here on the map,” Dean said, finally smiling.
“Really, you want us to hike through the prickly pear?” Justin hadn’t meant to sound so wimpy. Hiking the desert sucked.
Dean grabbed his cart. “Nothin’ we can’t handle.”
“Yay!” Twila cheered. “We get to sleep inside and eat fish.”
“And the bad news?” Justin droned. A flash of light had him reaching for his gun. He swung around as the sky grumbled in Bose surround sound.
“A thunderboomer’s brewing. Smell the ozone?” Dean sniffed at the sky. “Another reason to find shelter.”
Justin had his doubts. “It’s way over there, miles away.”
“They have a way of sneaking up on you out here in the wide open. The thunderstorms in these parts can get ferocious.”
“Y’all don’t have to tell me twice.” Luther swung on his duffle. “Better not be no damn tornadoes.” He brandished his industrial-size wrench to the sky.
Justin couldn’t stop laughing at Luther’s excessive fear of tornadoes. Ella giggled next, and Scarlett joined in. Mindy and Twila looked at them as if they were all bonkers. Then, Dean lost it. It was the release they needed.
Twila flashed Luther a goofy cross-eyed stare. “Ooh, I wish I could see a tornado in real life!”
With that, Luther turned his back on the puffy storm clouds billowing into a ginormous anvil in the sky. “You said—that way?” Luther pointed with his wrench.
“Yep,” Dean tried to say with a straight face and then lost it again.
All of Luther’s two-hundred-plus pounds jived in a celebratory end-zone jig. “Yeah, baby. Getting my mojo back.” He took off, dodging runaway tumbleweeds and jumping over cacti. “Last one there has to empty the sump tank.”
They trekked through the desert with newfound energy, thanks to Luther’s exuberance.
Chapter 35
Twila Lewis stepped carefully between all the pretty cactus trees, happy she didn’t have to ride in the cart. She stopped to smell a bright-pink wildflower until Mommy gave her the not-now frown. So, she hurried on, saying goodbye to the teeny dragons peering curiously with wary eyes before scurrying off to hide. Horny toads, Grandpa Dean called them. Maybe she could play with them later.
Everyone was hot and tired and poopy, electrifying the air with their negative thoughts. Their bright-red root chakras spun too fast, revealing their fear. Excitement rushed over her, tingling her heart chakra. They were going to a campground with a lake or a river. She couldn’t wait to go swimming. If Mommy let her.
Last night’s sad dream suddenly popped back into her head. Katy with a Y had begged her to come back to finish healing her. Katy, can you hear me? I’m sorry you hurt. I’ll come back someday. I promise!
Poor Katy. She was lonely. The others didn’t like her after Twila’s healing sessions had changed her into a sort of in-between state: more than undead but less than living. Twila understood; her own soul-sucking emptiness had once gobbled her hopes of finding her soul-family. Until Zac had found her and taken her to live with her new mommy, Scarlett.
That reminded her. Why, oh, why had the Silver Lady stopped talking to her? Maybe she was punishing her for giving Ella’s special tea to Katy. Well, Twila didn’t want to think of bad things. This was going to be a fun day. She just knew it.
They were close to Grandpa Dean’s special secret place, a place she could almost see in the night’s darkest hour. But the Ancient Ones were getting trickier. Had they seen the mystical forest through her eyes? She stopped herself before Mommy saw what she was thinking. Thank goodness Mommy spent most of her time listening for the bad energy and not her thoughts, otherwise Twila would be in trouble all day long.
Up ahead, Uncle Luther waited for them by a big yellowish-brown KOA sign. Grandpa Dean made it to him first, cursing and panting all the way. She sent him another gentle blast of cooling-healing energy. She would work on everyone tonight just like she always did.
Mindy followed behind he
r, and Ella and Justin were in last place. Uh-oh. They’d have to clean the sump tank. Whatever that was. Her internal knowing hinted it was a stinky job.
Grandpa Dean motioned the warning sign when they all reached the KOA sign. “Looks like the place is deserted.” He put down the binoculars.
Twila eyed the gravel road to the campgrounds with eager anticipation. “I don’t feel any bad energy,” Twila assured, listening harder.
Dean turned to Mommy and rubbed his shaggy whiskers. “How ’bout you?”
Mommy cocked her head and listened. “I don’t feel anything good or bad.”
Luther set down his big duffle and grabbed his guns. “I’ll check it out.”
“Are you sure?” Ella frowned.
“I’m going with you!” Justin yipped. He was excited too. All of his chakras spun brightly, especially his heart center. He had changed so much since she had first met him. He wanted to be the best father in the whole wide world.
They watched as Uncle Luther and Justin snuck to the first RV. They peeked in the windows with their guns ready. Then, they knocked on the door and waited. Finally, Justin opened the door, and brave Uncle Luther went in.
Uncle Luther jumped out of the RV, plugging his nose, and went into a silly dance as if trying to shake off yucky energy.
Grandpa Dean chortled. “Hazard a guess they happened on a decomposing body.”
Twila leaned against Mommy. She didn’t want to see any more dead bodies. Dead people reminded her of the souls she hadn’t been able to save.
In the beginning of the pandemic, the Silver Lady had told her she could start healing the lost souls of humanity when she reached a pivotal point of spiritual growth. Whatever that meant? Just a bunch of grown-up talk that really meant she wasn’t grown-up enough.
When she reached a “certain level of ascension”—when she let go of anger, resentment, and jealousy, she would be ready. It wasn’t fair. Why did she have to be the perfect one when the bad energies were doing whatever they wanted and taking over the whole wide world?
“I don’t see any cabins,” Ella moaned.
“By the water.” Twila tried dusting off her new pink sneakers. Mommy was right. She should have worn her boring hiking boots, but they hurt her feet. “They sorta look like the cabin Laura Ingalls lived in.”
Ella sighed. “As long as it has four walls and a bathroom, I’ll be in heaven.”
Justin signaled the all-clear like a silly cartoon mime.
“Skedaddle.” Grandpa Dean scooted them on. “We’ll come back for the carts in a minute. Want to see what it looks like first.”
They made it to the gravelly road where the leafed-covered RVs and collapsed tents were. Had all these people been on summer vacation when the Super Summer flu attacked humanity? Maybe they had come there to hide from it. She blocked her internal knowing, not wanting to know the answer. Not today. She was tired of seeing—bad.
“Guys, check out the cabins!” Justin shouted.
They walked faster. A soft bed, a toilet, a shower—Twila couldn’t wait.
“Stay away from the south end,” Uncle Luther warned. “It’s not a pretty sight. But these three cabins are empty.” He grabbed a fishing pole with a weird-looking fishing lure from the back of an old truck. “I could eat a cow!”
“I wanna come,” Twila cried out. “I’m good at fishing, huh, Mommy?”
Grandpa Dean cleared his throat. Which meant, he didn’t want them having fun yet. “Folks, stay sharp. Let me sort this out.” He glanced at Ella and Mindy, thinking about the babies. “I want someone on guard duty.” He took a moment, taking in everything. “On top of that water tower. If the ladder’s in decent shape.”
“On it.” Justin ran for the rusty water tank, pretending not to see Ella’s squinty-eyed pirate stare that said, No way, Jose.
Dean turned to Uncle Luther. “What do the sleeping arrangements look like?”
“Four beds in each cabin, not to mention a toilet,” Uncle Luther said. “We’ll need to haul water—”
“Definitely worth it,” Grandpa Dean said. “Scarlett, Mindy, Twila, why don’t you share the middle cabin.”
“Yay!” Twila skipped to the cabin’s door.
“Hold your horses.” Grandpa Dean tried to hold back the laugh in his scolding voice.
“Twila.” Mommy motioned her back.
Jeez Louise . . . Twila shuffled back with a guilty smile. Grown-ups were much better at spoiling fun than having fun.
“Ella, you and Justin take this cabin,” Dean said. It had a fun swing on the front porch with lots and lots of bright-blue morning glories crawling up the porch’s posts.
Ella darted to the flowerbed next to the porch. “O-M-G, an aloe vera plant. I can make a poultice for our sunburns.”
Poor Grandpa Dean’s face was all red. Ooh! Just then, a hummingbird buzzed her. She stayed very still, hoping it would land on her. It must like the vibrant colors of her aura.
“Luther, let’s retrieve our carts and your duffle and get settled before we send out a fishing party.” Grandpa Dean winked at her when she frowned at the hummingbird for flying away.
“Scarlett, when we get back, how’s ’bout you and I scout out the lake? We can’t let our guard down for a second. Remember, we’re not on holiday.”
Twila turned around so no one saw her cross-eyed grimace. But Ella caught her and nodded knowingly.
***
Twila stretched out on the comfy lawn chair next to the campfire, thinking how nice the last two days had been at the campgrounds—playing, fishing, and pretending they were a big, happy family. Hmm, would Grandpa Dean notice if she started calling him Grandpa? She would think about it. And maybe surprise him.
Grandpa Dean passed around a plate of yummy fire-roasted fish. She reached for another piece and then changed her mind. Her tummy was so full she thought it might explode. Uncle Luther hadn’t been too good at fishing. Thank the Cosmos Grandpa Dean and Mommy found some nets and used those instead of fishing rods. They had caught all kinds of fish. Even a funny one with kitty-cat whiskers. Catfish was her new favorite fish, especially the way Uncle Luther made it.
Grandpa Dean sorted through the woodpile they had collected. He carefully poked a smooth burgundy-brown branch into the coals. She watched, waiting to see what was different about it. It crackled and popped into a starburst.
“Ooh, so pretty. How did you know?” Twila snuggled up to Grandpa Dean. He knew lots of things. She wondered if she would ever be as smart as him.
He let out a long smile, the smile that made her heart all tingly. His smiles were hard to find these days because he was usually too worried or too hot or too something. But she loved him anyway. He was probably the only grandpa she would ever get. So, she just had to love him exactly the way he was—grumpy and all. Besides, it wasn’t his fault. He was old and hurt a lot. That reminds me. She sent him another loving blast of healing energy.
“Manzanita wood,” Mommy said in a faraway voice.
“Yep, when I was just ’bout your age.” Grandpa Dean turned to Twila. “My cousins and I used to hike to this ravine where the manzanita grew. We’d carry as much as we could, losing half of it in the process.” He stopped. Lost in remembering. “Those fall bonfires, when the weather was perfect—”
“Ooh, did you get to roast marshmallows, too?” Twila asked, staring into the mesmerizing flames that flickered with secret messages.
“You betcha.”
Ella sighed with contentment. “You must have had an awesome childhood.”
No one said anything. They just stared into the campfire. Twila wanted to stay in that moment, absorbing the love of her soul-family. Forever. “Tell me one thing about this special place we get to live. Without thinking where it is,” Twila added hastily. “Pretty please, Grandpa?” There, she finally said it. Would he notice? She batted her eyelashes. That always worked.
She regretted saying it when Grandpa tensed up. She tried pushing into his mind to read h
is thoughts. This time, she couldn’t see into his mind. Probably for her own good. She even tried the Akashic Records, but it was too blurry since the Ancient Ones had started erasing humanity from existence.
Her soul-family was getting better at guarding their thoughts. Funny how they played different scenes in their mind—like an endless ocean or the cosmos or a thick mist. Justin’s made her laugh. He pretended to be a tumbleweed. Goofball.
“Wild strawberries,” Grandpa finally said. “Used to eat those ’til my belly ached.” He laughed. “Granddaddy used to tell me to lay off them. But I only stopped when he was looking,” he seemed to say directly to her.
“Ooh, Grandpa, I didn’t know you used to get in trouble.”
“Sure, I did. That’s what growin’ up’s all ’bout. Learning ’bout this and that. What to do, and what not to, and the like.” Grandpa rubbed her shoulders.
“I can’t wait until I figure out all that stuff.” Maybe she wasn’t hopeless after all.
“Are there lots of wild herbs?” Ella asked.
“More than you can shake a stick at.” Grandpa stopped to play with the fire, creating a flurry of sparks.
“We’re fortunate we found each other,” Mommy started. “Think of all the skills we have. I can sew, garden, fish . . . Ella’s a wonderful cook. Dean, besides knowing weapons, you and Luther can fix practically anything.”
“And all the skills Shari taught us,” Ella went on in a dreamy voice. “From canning to wild-harvesting herbs to making tinctures and salves.”
Oopsy, Mommy left out Justin and Mindy. Had she hurt their feelings?
“Pff, I feel like a total loser,” Justin mumbled. “I’m just—was—a computer geek.”
“Son, you’ve got ingenuity,” Grandpa said. “A rare skill.”
Mommy nodded in agreement. “That’s right. You found Luther with your phone-calling scheme.”
Without Luther, they wouldn’t have the Andara. And without the Andara, Mateo wouldn’t be alive. So maybe everything was working just like the Silver Lady had promised. Only it was taking so very long.
“Well, whatever they have in store for us”—Grandpa paused, thinking hard—“I no longer doubt we’re united by some otherworldly force. For a particular purpose. Which brings me to something that’s been nagging me.”
Only The Dead Don't Die | Book 4 | Finding Home Page 32