Only The Dead Don't Die | Book 4 | Finding Home

by Popovich, A. D.

  “You’ll figure it out,” Ella said, excited to get started.

  “And don’t forget its medicinal properties,” Shari’s voice seemed to play in the background. “Opuntia makes an excellent anti-inflammatory. Ameliorates mouth sores and works wonders for high cholesterol and diabetes . . .”

  “Thank you, Shari.”

  Ella harvested the pads, snipping them off while she daydreamed about her prickly pear picking days with her cousins every August—until that horrible August of the Super Summer flu.

  After she had collected a pile, she painstakingly scraped off the barbs. If they had time, she’d get Justin to help her roast them on sticks, and they could munch on them during the day. Yum, fire-roasted nopalitos!

  ***

  After a lunch of nopalitos, they hiked the hateful desert, following the train tracks that lead to . . . only God knew where. Her feet were killing her. At least the ground sloped down gradually into an endless flatland. The world didn’t seem so claustrophobic once they made it out of the canyons.

  Justin alternated between walking with Dean in the front of the pack and in the back with Luther. To avoid her boredom, she pointed out familiar plants to Twila and noted their medicinal properties thanks to Shari’s teachings.

  Besides the Juniper and Piñon trees, she practiced identifying the drought-resistant plants braving the desolate desert’s climate, like yucca, algerita, chimaja, manzanita, and the various sages. After all this time, she still carried Shari’s prized herbal journal in her pack—full of plant sketches along with tons of los remedios notes.

  Lost in her herbal world, she happened to look up at the skyline. Hey, I recognize those mountains! Quickly, she forced her mind to go blank by envisioning the familiar horizon melting into the sandy beaches of a bottomless ocean.

  Mindy caught up to her without saying a word. She nodded, as if she also recognized the mountain range. They fell into step together, softly snickering at a hatless Dean hobbling on his silly-looking crutch. She had assumed they would be great friends. Someday. If they ever had time for such things.

  Mindy hardly talked. And even though Justin had become Ella’s new post-apocalyptic BFF, she was in dire need of girl-talk. She used to chat for hours with her girlfriends. Scarlett was cool, but older than her, and Twila was too young for the female companionship she craved.

  As they walked, a sort of silent friendship seemed to waft in the cooling breeze. But what should she say? Sure, she wanted to know what they had in common, like what movies Mindy liked. Her favorite bands. Did she have brothers and sisters? What year was she graduating from high school . . .

  Such frivolous questions were now totally irrelevant. Talking about the past would probably just make them more depressed. Ella realized avoiding friendship was way easier than going through the pain of losing a newly found friend.

  “Hey.” Mindy took her by surprise. “Whatcha thinking?”

  “Baskin-Robbins’ Cotton Candy Crackle ice cream,” Ella fantasized aloud.

  Mindy licked her chapped lips. “Mint chocolate chip. Triple scoop. In a bowl with whipped cream!”

  Ella didn’t want to spoil the moment. They continued in step, just happy in each other’s presence. They would be friends. She just knew it, only in a more serious way than her old life.

  “I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” Mindy said mysteriously.

  “Sure.” Maybe Mindy yearned for friendship just as much as she.

  “How did you know to put Mateo and your baby things in my cart?” Mindy asked with the clearest blue-sky eyes ever.

  Ugh! It was not what she wanted to discuss—to anyone. Not even Justin. But if they were destined to become friends, and perhaps family one day, she shouldn’t blow-off Mindy. “Sometimes, I see images in mirrors. Things that come true.”

  Mindy gasped. “Really?”

  “I think it’s one of my spiritual gifts,” Ella reluctantly admitted. Although it certainly didn’t feel spiritual. More like borderline evil. But this time it had saved baby Mateo.

  Dean stopped to look through the binoculars. “We’re getting close.”

  “Yay!” Twila shouted.

  “All I see are damn train tracks,” Luther grumbled.

  “Exactly.” Dean took a rest from the crutch and stood on one foot. “The message I got the other day, showed these old tracks would take us off the beaten track, thereby misleading our enemies. The goal was to meet up with these tracks.”

  “And go where?” Luther did his exaggerated neckroll thing.

  Ella’s throat was too parched to laugh. But when she met Mindy’s laughing eyes, they burst into giggles.

  “You’ll see!” Twila teased.

  “Whatev,” Justin spouted.

  Everyone turned to Scarlett for confirmation. “All I see is a mist of—nothingness.”

  “There it is!” Dean’s elation surprised them all. He pointed to a short train with his crutch.

  “Are you flippin’ kidding me?” Scarlett moaned.

  The sudden sensation of prickly pear barbs prickled her entire body. “Not Last Chance?” Profound sadness descended. That was where baby Miguel—

  “Sweet Jesus,” Luther bemoaned. “Now I know the sun’s done gone to your head.”

  “Dude, I think losing your cowboy hat gave you brain damage,” Justin berated, slathered with sarcasm.

  “Stop!” Twila whispered. “We must be very, very quiet. We can’t let them hear us. They still think we’re dead.”

  “Really, this is our new paradise?” Justin ranted.

  Twila’s ear-to-ear grin told her the child knew something. “You’ll see. Now, be quiet!”

  But despondency set in. How could Last Chance be the forever home Ella’s angels had promised . . .

  Chapter 39

  Scarlett Lewis recoiled at the sight of the familiar train they approached with drawn weapons. Of all places, why had Dean brought them to Last Chance? She wanted to scream. Instead, she listened internally for anything lingering just beyond her peripheral, only to be greeted by serene silence.

  Her friends’ furrowed brows revealed she wasn’t the only one upset with Dean. Ella looked like she might burst into tears. The pain from losing her first son abruptly shrouded Ella’s heart chakra. And Justin’s soul-crushing guilt reemerged, for he had de-activated Miguel and Sheena not far from there. As for Luther, he pined with sorrow, for he had truly been in love with Sheena.

  Twila smiled mischievously to herself. Oh, Twila, what are you up to now? Although the child meant well and was more in tune with her metaphysical abilities, sometimes she got it wrong. Like out of the ballpark wrong as with the whole Katy with a Y catastrophe.

  “Folks, stay sharp,” Dean rasped through the western-blue bandanna covering his nose and mouth after the wind had picked up. Sand had settled into the creases around his eyes, giving them the appearance of starburst eyes. “Scarlett, hang back with the gals while we recon the train.”

  She nodded, at a loss for words. During her brief stay, the rather short train had served as a pop-up trading post and rest stop. She and Sheena had fed hundreds if not thousands of weary immigrants who had braved the desert to escape the hordes hunting the highways and byways of America. Until the creepers had caught on to the new trend: wagon trains.

  Scarlett spied what remained of the collapsed corral through the rifle scope, where her loyal equestrian friend Willow had stayed. The camp appeared deserted. Still, the place seemed full of life and vigor as if she heard the vendors barking their products while she smoked fish by the barrels. Those days of hope had inspired her to persevere.

  North of the train, the junkyard of wagon remnants melted into the desert, half-buried in sand. As she recalled, penniless immigrants often escorted wagonloads of people through the marauder-infested section from Last Chance to Immigrant Station. They returned with the horses and wagons, hoping to resell them to the constant influx of new arrivals too exhausted to continue on foot.

&n
bsp; With a series of hand signals, Dean, Luther, and Justin slinked to the caboose door. Scarlett waited, biting her lip, half expecting Sheena to burst out, brandishing guns with her brassy steampunk attitude. Sheena had been a tough chick, the one most likely to survive the apocalypse. And yet she hadn’t.

  There was something electrifying about this place. Hmm, like a ley line. Shari had explained ley lines and vortices. Earth had its own electromagnetic roadmap crisscrossing the planet, imbued with ancient cosmic powers that connected its sacred sites and high-energy points. For even the earth had chakras.

  Did Last Chance lie upon one of those power points? Was that why so many immigrants had found it? Her rational mind had assumed immigrants seeking refuge had merely followed the train tracks, knowing it would eventually lead them to Last State. But now, she had a better understanding of how the universe worked. Last Chance definitely exuded a strong lifeforce.

  “You feel it too, huh?” Twila was all smiles.

  Scarlett kept her eye on the guys while they searched the train’s five boxcars. An unexpected bout of déjà vu had her tasting Zac’s kisses. There, in that boxcar, she had let down her guard and succumbed to his smoldering charms. But the faint whisperings of recent dreams had revealed Zac had been forced on a new mission. Abandoning me! Abandoning his impossible promises she clung to.

  How dare he tempt her heart. Whoever said, “ ’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,” had definitely missed the mark. Bitterness soured through her like a deadly venom. Impatiently, she brushed away her vanquished dreams of starting a new life in Last State. Lies, lies, lies.

  Finally, Dean motioned the all-clear. They hurried, aware of the setting sun. At least they could sleep inside tonight. The caboose had been quite comfortable.

  “Looks like it’s been vacant for some time.” Dean glanced around. “Suppose everyone who wanted to migrate to Texas would have done so by now.”

  “Dean,” Scarlett implored, “what are we doing here?”

  Dean kicked at the sand with his boots. “The honest to goodness truth, I’m not rightly sure. All I know is, we’re supposed to be here.”

  “I can’t be here—” Ella covered her mouth quickly, unable to continue. Justin rushed to her side.

  Dean glanced at Luther. “This seems to be an emotional hot spot for everyone. Tell you what. All I’m asking is twenty-four hours. Then, we move on.”

  Luther paced in a semi-circle. “So, this isn’t a permanent thing.”

  “What if a hella-horde finds us? Then what?” Justin’s jaw pulsated. “They could trap us—like they did last time. We should leave at sunrise.”

  “Sorry, bro,” Luther cut in. “I’m with Justin on this one.”

  Dean turned to Scarlett. “What are your thoughts?”

  “We should leave as soon as we can,” she said, ignoring Twila’s adamant shake of the head.

  Dean eyed the horizon, rubbing his stubbled chin. “Alrighty then, let’s scavenge anything of use, get some shut-eye, and we’ll leave at first light.”

  Dean stared intently at the mountain range in the distance as if it called out to him. So that’s where we’re going. She quickly shrouded her thoughts.

  ***

  Scarlett Lewis sat cross-legged on top of the boxcar next to the caboose while everyone slept. After a bizarre lucid dream, she had given up on sleep and relieved Luther of his post. Twilight, when the cosmic veils of time wavered like shimmering heatwaves, often revealed glimpses of an alternate reality. It was the perfect time to analyze her dream. Vague traces of the dream had hinted the only way they would ever be safe was if they somehow slipped into another dimension.

  “My dear warrior child, have faith in your intuition.” The Silver Lady’s silent words streamed into her mind.

  “Where have you been?” Scarlett questioned silently.

  “Careful, lest Twila overhears. She must not know the Grand Plan to Save Hu-manity has been altered once again.”

  Scarlett fumed with frustration. “Why did you promise us a normal life in Last State? You broke our hearts. Our resolve,” she silently badgered while maintaining her Merkaba shield to prevent Twila from eavesdropping.

  “Your coddiwomple of a journey has eluded the Ancient Bloodlines thus far, connecting you with Shari. She was crucial for your esoteric education. And Mindy and Starla—vital LifeGivers and Starseeds of the New Hu.”

  Yes, yes. Scarlett knew that.

  “Ah, to answer your question: The Ancient Ones hijacked our timeline by creating the X-strains. Hence, the Galactic Council granted permission to create our own timeline. Above all else, you found the monatomic crystal! Birthed from Earth’s life-blood—magma, the Andara encapsulates the untainted Prima Matra. Creator of life! Its keeper has been cloaked. Even from me,” the Silver Lady explained.

  “How could you not know?” Scarlett was astounded by the plot’s twists and turns, which she found more convoluted than a Marion Zimmer Bradley novel. “I’m sorry. I’m just exhausted.”

  “Understand this. You have succeeded far beyond your fellow Lightworkers.”

  Great. But Scarlett wasn’t fishing for compliments. She needed answers. Unfortunately, the Silver Lady usually left her more confused. “Why doesn’t Mindy’s baby need the special monatomic tea?” Let her answer that one.

  “My dear one, Mindy and her mate were gifted with the twelve-strand DNA. Therefore, their offspring shall behold the New Hu DNA, providing Starla immunity to all dis-ease!”

  Interesting, certainly not what Scarlett expected. That led to another question. “Where’s the baby’s father?”

  “I regret to inform you. The lab-mutated souls known as X-strains consumed Starla’s father.”

  “Oh!” Scarlett’s heart lurched. “Does Mindy know?”

  “Sadly, Mindy witnessed the event. She trusts no one, nor should she. Forget not, ’tis your Soul Mission to protect Mindy, Starla, Mateo, Twila, and Ella. No matter the costs. For the souls of the New Hu depend upon you!”

  “So, Twila’s DNA is different than Starla’s, and Starla’s DNA is different than Mateo’s?” Scarlett continued. The more she understood, the more she could assure herself that she hadn’t gone in circles in vain.

  “Correct. We seeded variants of the New Hu, not knowing which would prevail. Twila, for instance, was infected with the initial cannibalistic dis-ease. Which is why she refuses to consume meat. She carries this dark secret with her. She existed as one of those very creatures you and your friends massacre.”

  Twila had confided that. Scarlett had assumed it had been the child’s delusional way of processing her guilt—of surviving the pandemic. “If we don’t kill them—they kill us,” she justified. Was she collecting bad karma debt for the countless creepers she had killed? Murdered.

  “ ’Tis not the time to lament. But the time to prevail. Once the Great Healing begins, Twila and the surviving Starseeds shall embark upon their Soul Missions, healing the lost souls meandering Earth. There is something else you must know before my departure. You often wonder how you outwitted the Ancient Ones. My dear, you—are a descendent of them.”

  “That’s absurd!” Scarlett blurted out loud. Her voice disappeared into a gritty gust of wind. She quickly pulled her shirt’s neckline over her mouth.

  “You! Made the pivotal choice eons ago. I tell you so as not to fear them. Your ability to combat them with your mind keeps you one step ahead. Remember this: you, along with your friends’ bestowed gifts have the opportunity to find your Shambhala. If you believe . . .”

  “No!” Scarlett refused to be manipulated. “You took away Zac.” He was the first man she had ever truly loved, the only man who accepted her for whom she was. Without judgment, without expectations. Their cosmic connection seemed limitless. She didn’t stop the tear escaping down her cheek, but the wind did.

  “Time heals all wounds—” The Silver Lady’s laughter tinkled like a crystal chandelier caressed by a gentle breeze.


  “You could have warned me—not to fall in love.” Scarlett closed her eyes at the sand pelting her face.

  “My dear one, I don’t control these epoch events. I am merely a cosmic referee who has interfered more than ’tis allowed. You must persevere. Twila needs you more than ever. Live for her! Let not your heartstrings influence you.”

  “Why start all over with a new type of human?” Scarlett wasn’t ready to give up on her species.

  “My dear—”

  Scarlett sensed the Silver Lady’s scoffing at her ignorance.

  “For millennias, variants of humanesque beings such as the Su, Mu, and Hu thrived. Only to be obliterated from Earth time and time again.”

  “But, why?”

  “As difficult as it may be to comprehend, there is no ‘why.’ Evil and darkness simply exist like their counterparts of good and light. Like new life flourishing after a devastating wildfire. The cycle of life and death . . .”

  “But the bad always seems to win.” Like the Ancient Ones.

  “Think of it like a galactic sports league. Each league desires its team to win the championship. The difference being, the Ancient Bloodlines have broken the hallowed laws of karma in their atrocious act of unraveling the Akashic Records—for their tainted victory!”

  The riddles. Scarlett didn’t have time or the patience to decipher riddles. “So, do we have a—chance?” Scarlett finally asked.

  The Silver Lady’s ghostly image appeared before her closed eyes. “Heed my words. Explicitly! Watch yourself, watch yourself, watch yourself . . .” The phrase repeated in the background like a broken record as she continued. “For when the time comes, a sanctuary, if you will, hidden in a fold of Earth’s matrix shall reveal itself. The Ancient Ones know of this but cannot cross into this dimension. You and your friends must find it. Before I leave, promise me this: explain to Twila when the time is right that I had to leave.”

  “Why don’t you tell her?” Scarlett shot back.

  “Twila’s volatile nature could thwart everything we worked so hard to accomplish.”