Scarlett understood her reasoning. Twila might spiral into a foul mood for days. If not weeks. “What about Mindy?” Scarlett worried Mindy served as a beacon alerting the Ancient Ones. “She only protects herself and her child.”
“When that happens, presume danger is nigh.”
“And Zac?” Scarlett couldn’t swallow the sadness clinging to her throat.
An uncomfortable silence followed, as if her mystical spirit guide deliberated over her choice of words. “Alas, I am verboten from overseeing his progress. Too much meddling on my part, I suppose. Know that he loves you. That he will do all in his power to find you. And know this. Dreamtime connects you to the cosmic consciousness of all that is—that ever was—and will ever be. Listen with your heart. See with your mind. And love with your soul! Eventually, I shall return to check on the New Hu. That is, if the Ancient Bloodlines have not erased my soul”—her voice quivered—“from existence.”
Scarlett grasped the lapis lazuli pendant under her shirt. Despair overtook her. “And what about the creeper claiming to be the Queen of the Undead? The one who returned the lapis lazuli pendant.”
“Unforeseeable at this time. Furthermore, that shall be Twila’s mission—if our bold plan succeeds,” the Silver Lady said vaguely.
“Where is this sanctuary?” Scarlett finally thought to ask the most vital question of all.
“I must not speak of it. For traitors skulk the etherworlds. Know this: you and your soul-friends are entangled in time.”
Scarlett vaguely recalled a vision-like dream mentioning entangled in time. Whatever that meant. A peculiar gnarly tree with antique pocket watches flashed her third eye.
“Banish such thoughts from your mind!” the Silver Lady demanded. “Farewell . . .”
“Wait!”
But she was gone. What would they do without her spirit guide’s guidance, cryptic as it was?
An unexpected surge of energy swelled in her heart. The ley line’s energy or—hope? She opened her eyes, only to squeeze them shut. The sunrise swirled with brilliant specks of orange. She jolted back to reality in the middle of a flipping sandstorm.
Sandblasted from all directions, Scarlett climbed down the boxcar’s ladder and hurried to Dean and Luther. The wind and sand pelted into the boxcar as she struggled to close the door.
Luther helped her close the door, spitting out sand. “Good God Almighty, you all right?”
“I guess we aren’t leaving at dawn after all,” Scarlett mused as the whistling wind lashed at the boxcar.
Dean rubbed his face, waking up. “Naw, a sandstorm? Lucky we weren’t out in the open.”
“You were right all along.” Luther clapped Dean on the back. “I should know better than to doubt you.”
Dean waved him off.
Scarlett huddled against the wall, imagining the perfect world of Shambhala. Shari’s mystery school teachings revered a spiritual and yet physical Heaven on Earth. Shangri-La, Eden, Paradise, Elysium, Nirvana, known by many names by so many cultures. Did that mean such a place actually existed?
***
Scarlett awoke to pounding at the boxcar.
“Guys! Guys!” Justin yelled. “Someone’s coming!”
Luther and Dean slid open the boxcar’s door, weapons at the ready.
“We ought to be able to handle a lone rider,” Dean assured through binoculars.
The sandstorm had subsided. Scarlett stared beyond the sand flickering in the noonday sun to analyze the rider’s aura. She nearly doubled over. Zac? His distinctive vibrant aura had been forever ingrained in her memory. Perhaps she was merely in the midst of one of her lucid dreams. They always seemed so real.
Twila ran out of the caboose. “Yay! I told Onyx to hurry.” She bounced around cartwheeling and pirouetting.
All Scarlett could think was Zac had found—her! “Why didn’t you tell me?” She was too ecstatic for a scolding.
“ ’Cause, Mommy, I knew you wouldn’t stop thinking about him. And the bad ones would see.”
So true. Scarlett approached the horseback rider who was followed by a packhorse.
“Well, twinkle me Mary.” Dean gaped. “I do believe that’s Zachary Padilla.”
Justin shook his head adamantly. “No way!”
“How’d he’d find us way out here? Aunt Mattie?” Luther accused, mumbling on about Voodoo.
Zac waved wildly. Time seemed to tick faster and stop simultaneously. When she was close enough to see the rider’s smile. She had no doubt. He must have known it was her despite her grimy oversized clothing, for he didn’t wait for Onyx to stop. Instead, he jumped off.
“Scarlett from Roseville?” Zac’s voice faltered.
They collapsed into each other’s arms. Time spun around them with fragments of the Akashic Records floating in her mind. Was he the “why” behind the reason they had stopped at Last Chance?
“Guys, get a room,” Justin chided.
They finally pulled back at arm’s length. Suddenly self-conscious of her gritty appearance, she attempted to smooth over her wild unbraided hair at the mercy of the wind. “Why on earth are you here?” Zac delved into her soul—searching her heart as if verifying there was room for him in her life.
“I can’t believe it myself.” He finally stopped prodding her soul. “Once I realized you had crossed the border, I decided traveling by horse was my best option. I went back to the ranch to buy a couple of horses. That’s when Old man Stanwyck shanghaied me. Blackmailed me into guiding his family to Idaho. Fooled him. Caught a break a few days ago and escaped.”
Dean extended his hand for a shake. “Zac, how the hell are ya?”
Before Zac could say a word, Twila squeezed between Scarlett and Zac. “What took you so long?”
“Did you ride through that sandstorm?” Luther asked.
Zac nodded. “Talk about trippy.” He turned back to his horse. “My stallion—”
“His name is Onyx,” Twila corrected.
“Onyx runs like the wind.” Zac let out a heart-melting grin and swung Twila in the air, sending the sand flying off his clothes.
Twila wrinkled her nose when Zac set her down. “Someone needs a shower.”
“There’s no time for that.” Zac’s tone turned grave. “Just before the hellacious sandstorm, I reconned two hordes. X-strains.”
Ella gasped.
“Did they spot you?” Dean asked hurriedly.
“Oh yeah.” Zac made a feeble attempt to brush off his clothes. “With any luck, the sandstorm threw them off my scent.”
“Not for long . . .” Justin’s words sent tendrils of fear strangling her root chakra.
“Precisely.” Zac’s cocky-calmness eroded. Scarlett recognized the apprehension in his unspoken words.
“Hey, Ella and Mindy,” Zac finally acknowledged. “Are the babies”—he hesitated—“all right?” He seemed to regret asking as he eyed the men, bracing for the news.
Ella and Mindy lifted their ponchos to reveal sleepy babies.
Zac’s eyes sparked with affection. For a minute, Scarlett thought a tear might escape. He glanced into the sun and then shaded his eyes quickly as if blaming it for his watery eyes.
“Bro, I gotta ask. How in the hell did you find us—way out here?” Luther asked.
“Honestly, Onyx seemed to know the way.”
Onyx whinnied on cue. Scarlett and Twila nuzzled the black stallion. Thank you for bringing Zac to me, Scarlett whispered internally.
Luther shook his head like a flea-bitten dog. “Those things are searching for you. I know it.” He scanned the horizon. “I hear the maddening Hunger’s Howl in my head.”
“You and your special powers,” Zac razzed.
Scarlett wanted to laugh. She found the men’s ongoing banter negating their spiritual gifts rather amusing. Even now, despite the unexplainable incidents they had witnessed, Luther fought his innate abilities whereas Zac just went with it.
“We have to go!” Twila’s deadpan tone left Scar
lett cold.
“We’ll be safe in the caboose. Right?” Ella’s lovely brown eyes pleaded.
“Like, we don’t have enough food to wait out a horde,” Justin reminded.
Zac seemed to lose interest in their conversation and strode past the train.
“Gals, pack up and wait in the caboose,” a crutchless Dean quickly ordered as he hobbled after Zac.
Thank you, Silver Lady. Whatever scheme her spirit guide had conjured—it seemed to be working. They had a chance!
Chapter 40
Zac Padilla trotted to the wagon-train graveyard. He had relied on it often during his cross-country trips, scavenging it for parts. If he could find a wagon with a durable undercarriage, then he could piecemeal the rest of it.
A compelling urgency had him realizing they were down to the wire. Unless that sandstorm had blown the X-strains off his scent. Regardless, he was obstinate as ever, relying on mind over matter, which he had learned was the power of manifestation. He wasn’t throwing in the towel. Not after finding Scarlett.
Scarlett’s haggard friends didn’t have much pep left. Although Luther kept his pace, Dean struggled to keep up. Actually, Zac was surprised Dean was still alive and kicking. They don’t make men like him anymore, Zac mused. Most seniors would have succumbed right about the time the dead had spontaneously reanimated.
Zac scanned the rusted iron wheels, yokes, bows, and various hardware protruding from the waves of sand. Damn, no sign of his custom-made wagons. That would have been the bomb. No one said this was going to be easy.
“A wagon!” Luther’s eyes lit up in recognition.
“That’s right,” Zac said with more conviction than he felt. For reassurance, he looked back for a much-needed glance at Scarlett to make sure he wasn’t dreaming their reunion. He caught her smiling. His heart fluttered to his throat. Man, don’t lose the objective.
“Bingo!” Zac pointed. He shook the undercarriage of an old prairie schooner wagon. “The running gear’s operational.” For how long? He didn’t know where they were going. It was definitely too shoddy for river-crossings. But at this point, they only needed to get to a stronghold they could defend.
“The axles look decent.” Dean dusted off a yoke partially hidden in the sand. “Reckon I can figure how to hitch the wagon and horses. Got plenty of experience in that.”
“And the missing wheel?” Luther retorted, already pillaging through a stack of metal and wooden wheels.
Zac studied the mountains beckoning to him. “Hell, anything with the same diameter, metal or wooden. As long as the hub fits. And the spokes are intact, I’ll take it.” But that was pushing it.
Dean caught his gaze. “In case this helps. We’ve got another good thirty miles to go.” He head-jerked toward the mountains.
“I had a feeling that’s where you were headed.” Zac’s dreams had whispered of a secluded paradise in the mountains somewhere in the state once known as New Mexico.
Scarlett brushed up beside him. His body tingled from her touch. “Don’t think it,” she breathed in his ear. “Banish the place from your mind.”
Zac laughed. “You don’t have to tell me. Not after an encounter with those paranormal birds. I’m a master of deception.” He cocked a brow playfully. It was good for a cheap laugh. But they had work to do. “How long do you think we have?” he asked Scarlett.
“A couple of hours. Maybe—” Scarlett’s words seemed to disappear from existence. As if, time eroded around them.
“There’s a shitload of tools in those boxcars,” Luther said. “I’ll hustle them down.”
“Thanks.” Zac mentally sorted through the pile of shit. This was beyond crazy. And yet, they were so close.
“What can I do?” Scarlett asked with her beautiful, all-seeing eyes. Just being in her presence elevated his mood.
“See those arch contraptions?” Zac pointed to an axle-less wagon. “Bows. Collect as many as you can.” He’d sort through them later. They would forgo the wagon’s covering if they ran out of time. “And see these? Bow clips.” He happened on one next to his foot. “We’ll need these as well, providing we find a canvas large enough to strap over the top of the wagon.” He wiped the bow clip on his jeans before handing her it.
Scarlett’s smile vanished. He sensed her growing apprehension. Even the stallion and packhorse pranced about flicking their ears and shaking their heads toward the east with knowing eyes. The countdown was on.
***
Zac Padilla had just finished securing the wagon’s driver seat when Twila ran screaming toward them. Ella and Mindy ran behind her, hauling backpacks. Justin jumped down from the caboose and followed.
Scarlett reached the child first. “Twila—”
“They see us,” Twila yelled furiously.
“No sign of a horde,” Dean said through binoculars.
“No, they see us.” Twila sobbed between breaths. “In their minds. None of you are trying hard enough!”
Zac’s flesh crawled. Twila knew things. The wagon will just have to do as is.
Dean went back to brushing down the horses. “Zac, you mind checking my handiwork. It’s been a while since I hitched a rig.”
Zac nodded. That reminded him. Seeing Dean without a cowboy hat was disconcerting. His sunburned face screamed I need a hat. He scoured through his rucksack for the maintenance cap. “Looks like you need this more than me.”
“Why, don’t mind if I do.” Dean slipped it on. “Thanks. The sun gets brutal in these parts.”
Justin reached them out of breath. “Dude, no way. My son’s not riding in that piece of—”
“Shush,” Ella snapped. “It’s our only hope.”
“We don’t have a chance.” Mindy rocked her baby next to her chest. “They’re coming!”
“We can trick them!” Twila fiercely brushed the tears from her face. “Huh, Mommy. Remember?”
Scarlett nodded. “Collective consciousness is a powerful tool.”
Zac double-checked Dean’s work. “Run that by me again.”
“We all think the same place in our mind,” Twila said simply. “Make them think we’re in a different place. Not here.”
Twila’s ideas were often way out there, as in spacey.
“It has worked in the past. For a short time,” Scarlett confirmed. “It needs to be a place we all know.”
“Preferably in the other direction,” Dean added.
“Why not Boom Town?” Luther suggested.
“Duh, it was totally blown-up,” Justin snarked.
“Perfect!” Scarlett exclaimed. “In their lust for food, I doubt the X-strains will realize that. Until they get there. So, let’s take a few seconds to visualize—”
“Eating ice cream at that fun cowboy place,” Twila finished.
“The saloon-style restaurant,” Scarlett quickly clarified.
“Works for me,” Zac seconded.
“You must do exactly what I say.” Twila looked pointedly at Justin. “Stand in a circle. Okay, now hold hands.” She held out her hands and wiggled them impatiently. A reluctant Justin joined the circle. “Good. Now think really, really hard that you are eating ice cream in the cowboy saloon. So hard—your brain hurts.”
Zac didn’t exactly like wasting valuable time. But he knew better than to blow off Twila’s intuition. After all, she had been six when the Nano Com-trail flu hit, surviving on her own until he found her.
Zac found himself lost in the Boom Town’s eatery, craving one of those bacon burgers.
Twila nudged him. “Ice cream.”
“Right. Ice cream. Do we have to meditate on the same flavor?” Zac smiled inwardly.
Twila kicked his shoe in response.
The snorting of horses brought them out of their meditation, which had set them back five minutes.
“Ooh,” Twila trilled with delight. “They are turning around!”
Dean secured the brush back in the saddle. “How’s ’bout we test drive the wagon to the caboose? We need
to fetch our packs.”
Zac tossed the bow clips in the back of the wagon. “Did anyone happen to notice any canvas in the boxcars?”
“Ye-ah, there’s tons of it in the first boxcar.” Justin took off for the train.
Dean led the rigged horses to the caboose while Zac walked around the wagon and checked for problems.
“You really think the wagon can carry all of us?” Scarlett’s voice was laced with uncertainty.
“Sure, it will,” Dean answered before Zac could respond.
Zac kept his opinion to himself. He didn’t like the wobbly wheels and, the flimsy wagon had seen better days. As in a century ago.
“Mommy!” Twila screeched!
“Citizens! Drop your weapons and—”
Without hesitation, Scarlett spun around and aimed her M4. Blasting the drone that had snuck up behind them. However, the damage had been done. The drone operator had probably reported them, which meant the A.I. had initiated an ID scan of the live feed. Not to mention, their coordinates had been compromised. They were screwed.
Zac understood only too well. Last State no longer gave a rat’s ass about him. They needed child-bearing women to rebuild their crumbling empire. He must have inadvertently led officials to his friends. Or that evil SOB, Ren Cremmonty, had pried it from his mind . . .
Chapter 41
Dean Wormer jostled about the wagon’s bench seat and studied the eastern ridge of the mountain range in the late afternoon sun. A tight-lipped Zac sat next to him, driving the two-horse team harder than he should.
The rest of the gang silently rode in the back as if leery of the wagon’s symphony of creaks and groans rising louder than the frantic cloppity-clops of the horses’ hooves pelting the ground. Once again, he felt as though he were on the verge of falling through an arcane hourglass that seemed to symbolize the end of humanity.
Dean gave the back of the coverless wagon a thorough once-over. Twila and Mindy sat with their backs bumping against the wagon’s side, deep in apparent meditation while Ella, Justin, Luther, and Scarlett scoured the horizon for drones and dead-heads.
Zac’s clenched jaw belied his cool demeanor as he followed the highlighted path to safety in his mind. What a group of oddballs they made with their so-called—special abilities. According to Scarlett and Twila, even the sleek stallion was psychic. Dean felt unworthy of the company he kept. He was the only one who didn’t have a so-called special ability.
Only The Dead Don't Die | Book 4 | Finding Home Page 36