Only The Dead Don't Die (Book 2): The Hunger's Howl

by Popovich, A. D.

  Justin kicked a pebble, sending it flying into the water. “Forget them! I’ll find her without their help.” The words rushed out in frustration. Staring down at the water, a reflection other than his own stared back. He spun around, gun ready.

  “Hey ya.” The woman raised her hands. “What’s got you bummed?” the tall, dark-skinned woman said with a slanted smile.

  “Where the heck did you come from?” Justin glanced around from side to side.

  “Hiding out, waiting for those jerkos to split.”

  “So, you’re not with them?”

  “Hell no. I’d rather hang with zombies.” She smiled and slipped her gun into its holster. The woman looked like a Nubian steampunk-warrior, dressed in tight-fitting brown pants revealing muscular legs and buttocks, along with a brown leather holster riding low on her hips and matching brown leather boots, complete with spurs. An old-fashioned brass-colored pocket watch dangled from her brown and white pin-striped buttoned-up vest, accentuating her well-endowed bustline. Long brown rasta braids tied with multi-colored rags swung with her every move as she eyed him with mischievous eyes.

  He was relieved when the Trav’s horn interrupted the almost-uncomfortable moment of what to say next. “Dinner’s ready. C’mon, you’ve gotta meet Dean and Luther,” he said, excited.

  “Tell your friends to play nice . . . ’cause I’ll blow off their mother f’in heads if they mess with me!”

  “No worries. They’re cool,” Justin said, jumping off the boulder, nearly skipping down the path from the stream to the firepit.

  “Justin, fish for dinner!” Luther’s voice boomed.

  “I’m down with that,” the woman said.

  Justin smirked at Dean and Luther’s reaction. “We have a guest for dinner,” Justin said proudly.

  “Where in tarnation did you come from?” Dean asked. “Dean Wormer, at your service.”

  “Sheena,” the woman replied. Dean offered his hand. While they shook, Luther stared at her like she was an Amazon princess. “Does he talk?” Sheena nodded toward Luther. “Or is he just another pretty face?”

  “Dude, you okay?” Justin laughed. Sheena had a mysterious, alluring quality, although much too tall for his own tastes.

  “Pardon my bad manners. I’m Luther. Where’d you come from?”

  “I’ve been hiding out on the other side of the stream. Waiting for those jerkos to split.”

  Luther bumbled about and unfolded a lawn chair for her and then fussed about getting her a plate of food. “We’re having fish,” Luther said.

  “Yeah, you already said that.” She smiled and sat down.

  Did Luther just blush? Hard to tell with his blacker than black skin. I think Luther’s got the hots for her.

  “You going to Last State?” She took a bite of fish. “This is killer. You mind if I eat while ya’ll shoot the shit?”

  “Matter of fact, we left Boom Town in February. The thing is, we’re looking for someone,” Dean said as he piled his plate with fire-roasted fish.

  “I’m getting married,” Justin erupted with unbound emotion.

  Sheena nodded. “There’s a lot of that going around. Luckily, I’m immune.” Her slanted smile widened.

  “Don’t mind Justin. He gets riled up at times. Truth is, we were separated back in Nevada. His bride-to-be is traveling with some religious-type folk, wagon-train style,” Dean explained.

  “It’s the way to go these days. You can’t get very far in a vehicle.” She nodded toward the Trav.

  “So, you came from Nevada, went to Boom Town. And, now you’re going west again? Do you have a death wish or what?” Sheena quizzed with raised brows.

  “I’ll never give up,” Justin proclaimed, more to Dean and Luther than to her.

  “Have you heard of Last Chance—the place with the train? We just came from there. It looks like a tornado blasted through it.” Luther finally said something semi-intelligent.

  She nodded. “It’s a trading post in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. There were about a hundred of us when a horde surrounded us.”

  “Surrounded you?” Dean said doubtfully.

  “I was there. They had us surrounded. Like they were herding us. They were fast and—” She faltered. “Bloodthirsty,” she whispered as if afraid the hillside might overhear.

  Luther shook his head. “I ran into that particular type back in the Bay Area,” Luther said.

  “Where you headin’ to?” Dean asked.

  “Back to Last Chance.” She shrugged.

  “What’s so important about Last Chance?” Luther asked.

  She threw her pearl-handled knife into the ground, sticking it into the dirt below the sand. “I lost everything,” she huffed. “Just when I was getting ahead.”

  “There’s all kinds of supplies left. Everything wouldn’t fit in the Travelall,” Dean said with a friendly laugh.

  “I don’t get it. Why go back to Last Chance?” Justin wondered.

  “I’m earning my Boom Town dowry.”

  “Why not Texas?” Dean asked.

  “Not everyone gets into Last State,” she said, looking at Luther’s bandaged arm.

  “Ain’t going to Texas,” Luther blabbed from out of nowhere.

  “You and me, both.” Sheena smiled. “With the right connections, a gal can earn a respectable living in Boom Town without all the crazy-ass New World Order bullshit,” she said and leaned over to retrieve her knife. She gracefully slid her index finger across the blade and wiped it clean.

  Dean rubbed his chin, which meant he was thinking of a plan. “Hell, how’s about we give you a ride to Last Chance. We can make sure things are copacetic before we head to California.”

  Justin stared at the fire. I knew it. Dean and Luther want to go back to Cali. Holy shit. He’d have to find Ella on his own.

  “Why go out of your way for a complete stranger?” Sheena eyed them carefully.

  “ ’Cause like dudette, we’re the good guys,” Justin said with exasperation.

  They all laughed for a minute around the fire and then continued eating their dinners. Dean put another branch on the fire, Luther helped himself to seconds, and Justin tried not to stare at her, while they waited for her answer.

  “Sounds like an offer a gal can’t refuse,” she finally answered.

  “So like, what do you sell at Last Chance?” Justin asked.

  “I work—worked for Skeeter, baking bread.”

  “You look more like a steampunk weapons dealer,” Justin said with slathered sarcasm, waiting for her reaction.

  She let out a laugh. “I know. Who’d a thought? It was the only job opening at the time. Turns out, I’m pretty good at it. The plan is to open a bakery in Boom Town.”

  “Like how did you escape the horde?” Justin was curious.

  “Luck. While everyone was screaming and fighting them, I stole the first horse I saw.”

  “Where’s the horse?” Luther asked.

  “Those jerkos you were talking to stole it. Should have just shot the jerkos, but I didn’t want to waste my ammo,” she said, smiling at Justin. “Not too many good guys left.”

  “What worries me . . .” Dean paused the way he does when he’s thinking out loud. “No dead bodies.”

  “It can only mean one of two things. One, someone buried the dead,” Luther started.

  “Yeah, right,” she said.

  “Or two, they all turned . . .” Justin finished. An eerie feeling crept up the base of his spine. Silence drifted around the fire. A crackling snap from the fire caused Justin to bolt from his chair.

  “No survivors?” Her voice went hoarse. “The Dead were fast. And it was dark. We never had a chance.”

  “Think we should all sleep in the Trav tonight,” Dean said with a hand rubbing his chest.

  Dean’s gonna need one of his pills before the night is through.

  “Sheena, you get the sleeper compartment. Luther, how’s about you take the backseat. Justin, we’ll take the front seat.
It’ll be cramped. Rather wake up cramped than dead.”

  “You-all might want to know; I got word a few days ago several large wagon trains are in route to Last Chance as we speak,” Sheena said, stretching her legs.

  Justin glanced at Dean and Luther for their reaction. A howling drifted in like an eerie fog. It wasn’t the reaction he wanted.

  “The Hunger’s Howl,” Justin freaked.

  “Folks, time to pack it up for the night,” Dean said, standing up and cocking his gun.

  Chapter 26

  “What happened!” Scarlett’s heart raced. It looked like a hurricane had blown through Last Chance. The picnic tables, boxcars, and caboose were the only things left standing. Even the bright-blue portable toilets lay on their sides amongst the debris-ridden sand. No guards. No vehicles. No people. Scarlett urged Willow closer, but the mare refused. A putrid scent lingered in the air.

  “Don’t make her go there,” Twila cried.

  Scarlett slid off the mare. Poor Willow. She’d been riding her hard all day in order to make it back to Last Chance before dark. Cautiously, she approached the trading post, kneeling down at times to study the tracks in the sand. Chaos. The tracks were all over the place.

  “Stay on Willow—no matter what. I need to check out the train. If something bad happens to me go east.” Scarlett handed the compass to Twila. She had explained how it worked, and Twila had used it on their way there with a bit of supervision. She had also taught Twila how to use the sun and harped over being constantly aware of her surroundings. Things she should have taught her before. Scarlett snatched the tire iron and walked to Sheena’s boxcar. She felt naked without a gun. If a horde suddenly appeared, she’d run back to Twila. It was her only plan.

  The caboose’s door opened. “Lewis from Roseville! Took you long enough,” Sheena belted out under the orange-scorched sky.

  “Jeez, what happened—where is everyone?”

  “Gone. A mother f’n horde stampeded us,” Sheena said, looking beyond her at Twila.

  Scarlett waved Twila on.

  Willow trotted hesitantly toward them. Howling started. The mare kicked up her hind legs, but Twila managed to hold on. Sheena and Scarlett exchanged a knowing look. A look of apprehension.

  “The Hunger’s Howl. That’s what they’re calling it,” Sheena said, eyeing the horizon. “We better go inside. There’s another horde on the prowl. The last one went east. Let’s keep your horse in the hay boxcar.” Sheena opened the cargo door. “You’ve got the only horse in town.”

  Twila led the mare up the ramp and into the boxcar. After they got Willow settled for the night, Twila said goodbye to the mare with a head-to-head nuzzle, which Sheena looked at peculiarly.

  “She’s grown rather attached to Willow,” Scarlett offered, explaining Twila’s behavior.

  “I was expecting you two days ago,” Sheena said, padlocking the door.

  “Things didn’t go as planned. We were trapped by a horde. It took a day to find Willow. And another flippin’ day to calm her down. The mare refused to go.” Scarlett shuddered inwardly remembering how they had hid in the office with the dead creepers outside the back door all the while worried Mad Dog and his mad horde might return.

  “I claimed the caboose. You should join me. Besides the bunkbed and stove, it’s got running water and a toilet as long as we refill the water tank.”

  “What about Skeeter?” Scarlett asked.

  “Life’s a bitch, then you get bit. That cocky ex-Marine pushed his luck too far. He could have been in Boom Town months ago if he hadn’t been so obsessed with building his fancy hotel. Look who owns the caboose now.” Sheena smiled, dangling the keys.

  Scarlett was taken aback by Sheena’s rather cold-hearted attitude. Then again, the daily struggle to survive deadened one’s feelings of compassion. Survival of the fittest at its worst. They went inside the caboose.

  “I did try to save Skeeter. I was one second too late,” Sheena said as if answering her silent question.

  “This is fun!” Twila shouted as she ran from corner to corner, checking out everything. “We get to sleep inside!”

  “Shhh, keep it down,” Scarlett said.

  “I’m starving!” Twila moaned.

  “I’m afraid we haven't eaten much the last four days. Those potatoes you gave us probably saved our lives,” Scarlett said, unstrapping the duffle bag of glasses and caps from her back.

  “What’s for dinner?” Twila burst.

  “Young lady, did you forget your manners?” Scarlett scolded. The child definitely needed more discipline.

  “Jeez Louise, Mommy, who cares about manners when you’re starving to death?” It was something Scarlett might have said, and hearing it from Twila was absolutely hysterical.

  “Have a seat.” Sheena nodded at the small table and unwrapped an aluminum foil package.

  “Ooh.” Twila aahed over it while Sheena served them.

  “Where’d you find fish?” Scarlett was astounded. It was a miracle, the perfect food for Twila.

  “Met some decent people. They wined and dined me. And,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “I’ve got a new crush. Tall, dark, and handsome. His friends even drove me here since some jerko stole my horse,” Sheena said, dividing the fish into three portions.

  “I thought you didn’t have a horse,” Scarlett teased.

  “This time I stole Billy Bob's horse. Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” Sheena shrugged.

  “Where’s your new boyfriend?”

  “The craziest thing, the three men drove west. They’re looking for a friend. He promised he was coming back. I made him put it in writing.”

  “Did they ride dirt bikes?” Scarlett grimaced.

  “No. You saw the bikers too?”

  “In a roundabout way, the bikers saved us. This wild horde came out of nowhere. We were stuck on the gas station’s roof all night and part of the next day. Then, three bikers showed up and actually herded the creepers—” Scarlett stopped in mid-sentence with a horrid realization. On their way back to Last Chance, she had worried they might run into the horde again, not the least bit concerned it would make it to Last Chance. The horde couldn’t travel that fast, could they? Hmm, X-strain. “Do you know anyone named Mad Dog?”

  “Sounds like another apoc a-hole.” Sheena was always quick with the labels. “I worried you got caught in the crossfire. Remember, I had a feeling something was about to go down.”

  “You didn’t have any warning?” Scarlett asked.

  “All I know is, Skeeter said he’d pay me with gold if I pulled an all-nighter. The other bakers went AWOL. Shit, that was my first clue. Around four in the a.m. I got this weird feeling something was off. Then this crazy howling started. Next thing I knew, people were running for their lives.”

  “Why didn’t you hide in the boxcar?”

  “Marauders kill you and The Dead turn you. Either way, you lose. And being an attorney—I hate losing.”

  “All those people in their tents,” Scarlett moaned. Her heart felt like it had been wrung out to dry. Twila looked up with tear-filled eyes.

  “Some of us made it to the river,” Sheena whispered.

  “And the guards just left?” Scarlett’s stomach sickened at the thought.

  “Gone, along with the Hummers Skeeter worked his ass off for. Despite my bitching, Skeeter was a decent man,” Sheena said, revealing a rare moment of compassion. “Just one more second, and I could have saved him.” She kicked the chair.

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Scarlett consoled.

  “Here’s what I think,” Sheena said. “The bikers were making a midnight gold run to Boom Town to avoid marauders, and they pit-stopped here. Their engines must have attracted several hordes.”

  Scarlett shook her head and said in a husky voice, “I watched them herd a horde from the gas station the day after we left Last Chance.”

  “Has to be a different horde?” Sheena gaped.

  “I saw trac
ks all the way here. The sand was so trampled, I thought it might have been a wagon caravan.”

  “You’re shittin’ me. What you’re saying is—” Sheena stopped and looked at Twila. “They just doubled the herd,” she whispered in Scarlett’s ear.

  “How far is the river?” Scarlett wanted to change the subject.

  “A forty-five-minute ride. It’s one of the smaller Rio Grande tributaries north of here.”

  Twila was busy eating and playing with the bites of baked fish she had cut. Fish! The ideas started whirling around her head. She could fish. She could even build a smoker. Smoked fish lasted longer without refrigeration than barbecued or baked fish. The perfect traveling food. Jeez Louise, I can sell smoked fish.

  “How much money did you say it costs to get into Texas?”

  “A hundred K per. Ah ha, I see your wheels turning.” Sheena’s slanted smile broadened. “You and I’ll make a bitchin’ team. Damn, we’ll own this dump of a trading post. Take the boxcar next to the caboose. It will be easier to hide Twila. What do you plan on selling when you run out of sunglasses and hats?”

  Scarlett was busy designing the smoker in her mind.

  “Earth to Lewis. You did get the sunglasses and hats. The ones at the gas station?” Sheena reminded.

  Scarlett pointed to the duffle bag by the door. “Those will run out. I’ve gotta a better idea.”

  “Okay, I give—what is it?” Sheena held up her hands.

  “Smoked fish,” Scarlett said like it was the answer to world peace.

  “Mommy makes the best smoked fish in the whole wide world,” Twila announced.

  “Who’d a thought? Fantastic idea! But, can you catch those slippery suckers?”

  “I spent a year learning to fish. Are you sure there’s fish in the river?” Scarlett worried.