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

by Popovich, A. D.

  Luther fist-bumped him. “Sorry, bro. Tried.”

  Justin handed him two tokens. “Ye-ah.” Justin hurried outside to Ella. She must be going insane. The heavies were busy talking shit to the Enforcers. Ella’s petrified, glazed eyes freaked him out. “It’s okay.” He wanted to hug her, to comfort her.

  “I can’t believe you left me out here,” she rambled in one of her PMS moods.

  “You should have gone first,” he cracked back, eyeing the street. He waited around, acting all nonchalant while she tapped her foot.

  It was taking too long. More than ten minutes. Two haggard men with a wheelbarrow knocked at the red door. They must be next. A steady stream of Enforcers gathered at each end of Zoat Street. It looked like they would start rounding up cits for the re-education camps soon.

  Buzz Saw opened the red door. “Those two!” He pointed to Justin.

  “Finally,” he mumbled to Ella.

  Her brows knitted into a unibrow when the two heavies rushed them. Ella grabbed his arm.

  “We’re next. Right?” Justin’s voice quivered.

  “Punk Ass!” Buzz Saw shouted. “Tried to screw me over again. Not this time. Yo ass is grass.”

  Holy shit! What had tipped him off? Had he seen the photo? A Jeep raced across what had once been a lawn. And guess who was driving—Mad Dog.

  We’re in hella trouble. And Dean and Luther weren’t there to save them. He wanted to grab Ella in his arms, tell her he loved her, tell her to take care of their baby, and to have a fantastic life. Instead, he ignored her and brushed away her clinging hands.

  Mad Dog and his men stormed toward them. “Knew I’d catch up to you.” Mad Dog glared him down. “What you got for me, Punk Ass?” Without warning, he flipped over their two carts.

  No! Not the carts! Justin threw himself to the ground, looking for Mateo. One of Mad Dog’s heavies strong-armed him to his feet.

  Mad Dog kicked at the buckets of freeze-dried foods. “Nothing but shit. Diapers? Thought you were crazeballs.”

  Quick, think up something to say. “A great TP hack. Just cut them into squares as needed.” Justin’s heart went spastic when he realized Mateo wasn’t there. Ella must have decided to carry him in the baby sling. But when had she done the switcheroo?

  Mad Dog stomped up to Ella. Ella, stay calm, Justin begged. “I just met this guy,” Justin added quickly. “He’s not part of my gang.”

  Mad Dog cackled like a rabid dog. “You—gotta gang?” He knocked off Ella’s baseball cap.

  She winced. Despite Ella’s adorable pixie haircut, there was no disguising her femininity.

  “Well, well . . .” Mad Dog licked his lips. “What if I cut up your girlfriend into zombie treats?”

  Justin flung himself at Mad Dog, but the heavies grabbed him. Mad Dog lifted her poncho. Mateo wasn’t there either.

  Ella just stood there. Blanking out.

  “Hey, leave him alone,” Justin shouted, still trying to convince everyone she was a guy.

  An evil smile took over Mad dog’s face. “What’s the ETA on my Hummers?”

  “Another hour,” Buzz Saw quickly said. “Traffic issues.” Mad Dog didn’t handle delays well.

  “Apparently, we’ve got some time to kill.” Mad Dog poked at Ella’s ribs. “Buzz Saw, prime the pit. Time for”—he paused and enunciated eerily—“my personal favorite, Z-games. Punk Ass is gonna wish we named him Cry Baby.”

  WTF! Mad Dog wanted to play zombie games? He must be methed-out. Still, it wasn’t so bad. I can slay Zs all day long. Especially if it meant saving Ella.

  Then it came to him. Ella had put some things in Mindy’s cart. Including Mateo! As if she had known danger was imminent. The shattered mirror! She had confided once that she saw things, sometimes.

  Bad things.

  Things that came true.

  Chapter 29

  Scarlett Lewis gripped the cart’s handle so tightly her fingers tingled with the onset of numbness. She stole a glance at Dean. By the light of the torches’ dancing shadows, no reassuring smile crinkled the edges of his eyes. Was he starting to think the tunnel was a bad idea as well?

  The tunnel guide puffed away on a fat cigar with an automatic weapon slung over his shoulder while they waited for the all-clear. They could change their mind. Couldn’t they? Dean finally met her gaze with questioning eyes. They had no answers for each other.

  “Twila, is this safe?” Scarlett pleaded internally. Although, Twila had probably zoned-out inside the covered cart, lost in protective Merkaba-meditation.

  The tunnel guide’s radio announced, “Send ’em through.”

  “Stay on my six,” the tunnel guide ordered with a thick Hispanic accent.

  Dean followed him, and she followed in his footsteps. This wasn’t the tunnel Justin had bragged about, for it certainly wasn’t large enough for vehicles. When the ground sloped down sharply, it was all she could do to keep her cart from running into Dean’s heels. And when the ground leveled beneath her feet, she knew they were directly under Zoat. Her own breathlessness seemed to suffocate her. But she understood all too well what it was—the creepers’ eternal suffering inundated her.

  She fought flashbacks of the King of the Undead who had wanted her for his queen. Not because he had loved her. Because he had lusted over her essence that exuded the vitality of the living. Stop thinking about him—it.

  The tunnel’s scallop-shoveled walls closed in on her. The King of the Undead abruptly appeared in her inner vision. “No! You do not exist! Zac killed you.” Hadn’t he?

  Dean stopped and turned around when the ground inclined again. “I’ll tell you what. I’m not liking this. You gettin’ any of your peculiar messages?”

  It wasn’t like Dean to be uncertain. She often relied on his steadfast resolve. “Do you think we should go back?” She should stop second-guessing herself. Finding the tunnel had been a godsend. As Justin would say, suck it up.

  Dean rubbed his chin. He shined the light around the tunnel. “Naw, this is the only option for our situation.”

  “What did the tunnel guide tell you earlier?” Scarlett asked, grasping for anything to give her the courage to go on. An overwhelming feeling of déjà vu—no, more like jamais vu, muddled her senses, warning something was about to happen. Something bad. Just as it had the last time she had been in a tunnel under Zoat.

  “Enforcers are patrolling the New Mexico side of Zoat. On a manhunt.”

  “Do you think they’re looking for Justin?” That would explain why she couldn’t fight off her nerves. She wouldn’t be so paranoid if they had all gone together.

  “No talking,” the guide hissed.

  They hurried through in silence. When the light at the end of the tunnel gleamed on the walls, they quickened their steps. An armed man in khakis stood at the tunnel’s exit. He raised his hand, ordering them to halt. “Watch your ass. Got a military patrol on the free side. But, you got a five-minute window. Unless they do a one-eighty.”

  “Can you do that, old man?” the tunnel guide grilled. “Once you make it to the gas station, technically, you’re free and clear of Last State.”

  “I’m fast for an old geezer.” Dean rather forcibly shoved his cart out of the dreary tunnel into the sunlight.

  They made it to the degraded asphalt of a road paved years before the Super Summer flu. The carts rattled in protest as they jogged toward an old Exxon gas station.

  The roar of an engine made her feet go faster. Dean shot ahead. He certainly was spry. When they reached the gas station, he motioned her to stop.

  He drew his Glock and yelled, “Anyone there?” Dean disappeared inside.

  Scarlett drew her 9mm and waited with the carts.

  “Empty.” Relief flooded through his voice.

  Once inside, Dean paced what had been the mini-mart section with empty shelves tossed on their sides. “Got a view of the tunnel from this window. Expect to see Ella and Mindy any minute.”

  “Mommy, my legs hurt,”
Twila whined.

  Twila had been so good. She helped her out of the cart. “You can stretch your legs for a little bit.”

  “Hell’s bells! The patrol just circled back. Looks like we’ll be waiting a while.”

  Scarlett took a seat on a stool while Twila walked around. It made her dread their journey. Wherever they were going. How could an eight-year-old be expected to hide in a shopping cart for days on end?

  “The patrol jetted off northbound in a hurry,” Dean advised with a pair of binoculars to his face. “They just opened the tunnel’s trapdoor. I see two people in the mouth of the tunnel.”

  “Thank you,” Scarlett said to the universe.

  “Well, what’d you know,” Dean said. “It’s Luther and Mindy.”

  “Not Ella?” Scarlett dashed to the window.

  “All be dern.” Dean chuckled nervously. “Didn’t know Mindy could run so fast.”

  “She can do anything to save baby Starla,” Twila crooned in obvious admiration.

  “Now that’s what I call a superpower,” Dean touted.

  Scarlett opened the door and waved them on. Luther kept looking over his shoulder. If the military vehicles returned, they were in trouble. Why didn’t Ella go next? That really bothered her.

  Out of breath, Mindy and Luther strode in.

  “Luther, you look like you just saw a ghost,” Dean jabbed.

  “Did I ever mention my aversion to tunnels?” Luther grumbled about shaking off his negative energy. He had confided once that he was borderline claustrophobic ever since he had hidden in a small room in the San Francisco Bay Area during the pandemic’s early days.

  Twila hurried to Mindy’s cart and peeked under the tarp.

  Mindy nodded with her finger to her lips. “Sleeping.”

  Scarlett turned to Mindy. “Why didn’t Ella go with you?”

  “She wanted to go with Justin,” was all Mindy said.

  “We ought to see them in another ten minutes or so, providing the patrol doesn’t return,” Dean assured.

  Dean spread his trusty map over the top of his cart. “I’d say, we’re right ’bout here. This road’s a good start. Once we put a few miles between us and Last State, all we have to worry ’bout are marauders and the occasional horde.”

  Twila screamed. “Jeez Louise, Justin is sooo mad. Oh no! Something’s wrong with Ella!” Twila pressed her palms against her forehead. “Bad guys,” she said in panting bursts, “locked them in a cage.”

  “Good God Almighty!” Luther roared.

  Mateo must have blown their cover. Scarlett shuddered at the thought of what they might do to Ella and the baby.

  “Damn it all to Hell,” Dean slurred with vehemence.

  Twila automatically covered her ears.

  “Why didn’t you send Ella next?” Scarlett bit her lip. Accusations were useless at this point.

  Luther slammed his first onto a countertop, shattering it. “Man, I tried to get her to go with Mindy.” The pain in his eyes revealed the truth. “She wouldn’t go without Justin. Things looked like they were about to go sideways—”

  “Don’t go blamin’ yourself.” Dean patted Luther’s shoulder. “Ella does have a habit of freezing up.”

  Luther grabbed his Glock. “Well, I’m going after them.”

  Dean hesitated before saying, “I’ll join you.”

  Luther held up his hands in protest. “You’re needed here.”

  “Then I’ll go!” Scarlett said, determined.

  “Nope. I’m going solo.” Luther handed her a worn-leather pouch from his duffle. “I want you to be the Andara’s guardian. Just in case I don’t—”

  “Uncle Luther!” Twila cried out, “don’t even think it.”

  “Don’t worry about ol’ Luther. Nothing’s gotten the best of me yet.”

  Luther was definitely the toughest of the bunch. And his apparent immunity to the Z-virus gave him an advantage. Besides, he was unstoppable, so it seemed. Evidently, he had mastered the ability of manifestation, especially when enraged with determination. After all, he had rescued Mindy and Starla.

  Scarlett peeked inside the monatomic crystal’s leather bag. The crystal-like glass caught the sunlight from the window, and its swirling surface glimmered from the inside out. Its energy surged through her. Quickly, she put the Andara into the inner pocket of the tactical vest, which she wore under the poncho, before she blissed-out.

  “You sure ’bout this?” Dean quizzed with furrowed brows.

  “As sure as I’ve ever been.” Luther set his huge duffle on his cart before stuffing a smaller pack with spare mags. “These bad boys”—he held up several grenades—“are my backup.”

  “Make it quick,” Dean said. “Remember, Last State’s sending in the calvary.”

  “Then I’d better bust butt.”

  “One more thing,” Dean hesitated. “We should probably move on. If Enforcers are indeed repatriating defectors, I lay odds that’s why they’re patrolling this side of Zoat.” Dean looked at the map. “We’ll wait for you here—”

  “Don’t say it,” Mindy scolded. “They’re watching. Thousands of beady red eyes. Watching!”

  That sent the hairs on the back of Scarlett’s neck quivering. Mindy was more sensitive than she realized.

  “Alrighty.” Dean gulped hard. “There’s movement at the mouth of the tunnel. And it’s not Ella and Justin. They’ll be heading here.” Dean slung his pack over his shoulders.

  Scarlett shoved Luther’s cart into a corner. “Don’t forget to grab your cart and duffle on the way back.” She covered it with pieces of drywall and insulation from the pile of debris littering the deteriorating building.

  “Twila, do you know where Ella and Justin are?” Luther asked.

  “Back in the cart,” Scarlett ordered briskly.

  Twila climbed inside. “In a field where the big kids play.” She stood in the cart with her palms pressed to her forehead. “The sign says, HOME OF THE TIGERS.”

  “The high school is on the east side of the food vendors,” Dean said.

  “Yep, I remember it. I’ll catch up with you at the rally point. But”—Luther paused—“if we don’t make it there in the next twenty-four hours—”

  “My friend, we’ll wait for you as long as possible.” The compassion in Dean’s voice stung her heart. Their lingering handshake revealed they weren’t so sure they’d see each other again.

  Scarlett turned away when a sudden wave of sadness overtook her. Unable to bear saying goodbye, she beckoned Mindy to follow her out the side exit where they waited for Dean.

  “Silver Lady—Shari—somebody? Please tell me everything’s going to be all right,” Scarlett beseeched.

  The silence screaming through her psyche revealed there were no answers. Humanity’s future no longer existed. The last inscription she had read in the Akashic Records had been to guard the Prima Matra with her life. That was before she knew of the Andara. Now she understood the inscription’s significance.

  It was going to be an agonizing hike, not knowing what was happening to her dear friends . . .

  Chapter 30

  Estella Marie Vasquez-Chen stared blankly through the metal cage as the scenery blurred by. Mateo was safe. That was the only thing that mattered. Her guardian angel had revealed through enrapturing dreams that Mateo was an important part of humanity’s New Eden.

  While she joggled around the back of the truck in the putrid cage, Justin darted from side to side, rattling the cage like an ape on peyote. She should try to calm him, but she was enthralled in a sort of peaceful shock now that her part was—finished.

  Ella had finally accepted that her fleeting mirror visions weren’t messages from El Diablo. She had assumed so when a vision had revealed her first son’s death last year. Since that fateful day, she rarely checked her appearance, careful not to stare into the mesmerizing depths beyond the glass where misty images sometimes came to life.

  After brushing her teeth this morning, she had checked
her compact to make sure she had rinsed away the toothpaste gunk that stuck to the corners of her mouth. Without warning, the mirror’s reflection had taken on a life of its own. Revealing a gruesome scene of a loco man with a dog’s face who searched her cart in a field of zombies.

  She couldn’t stop the actual event from happening, for baby Miguel had died despite her desperate attempts to save him. According to Shari’s mystery school teachings, one’s fate wasn’t necessarily written in the stars although some events were predestined. So, what if she changed one tiny detail? Like putting Mateo in Mindy’s cart. Would it change Mateo’s fate? If she kept her thoughts well-hidden, no one would suspect it, except maybe Twila.

  The cage’s atrocious odor brought her back to their current situation. They must use this cage for Zs. She turned to Justin, tearing her feet from the gooey floor, and finally asked, “Do you know what’s happening?”

  Justin plopped down on the milk cart next to her. He nestled against her, his skin hot, his pulse racing. “Mad Dog’s wicked when he’s methed-out. And based on his wild eyes, he’s definitely tweaking on something.”

  He caressed her hands before kissing them, stalling, as if avoiding something. Her narrowed eyes told him to stop babying her.

  He winced. “Mad Dog’s got this el sicko fetish for Z-fights. The gorier the better.”

  Justin was the best Z-deactivator she knew. Besides his agility, he also used his imagination, adapting to the circumstances. “You can do that.” Maybe things weren’t so dire.

  “Sure.” He stared off into space. He didn’t sound too convincing. A puzzling frown took over his forehead, the way it did when he fought back tears. “Why didn’t you tell me you put mijo in Mindy’s cart?”

  She had hurt his feelings. For her deception to work, he had needed to believe with all his heart. How could she explain the compelling urge for secrecy? “Whether you believe it or not, this psychic stuff—is happening.”

  Justin delved deeply into her eyes as if searching for answers. “Ye-ah, I know.”

  “All Twila and Scarlett’s cuh-ray-zee talk about disguising our thoughts—” She paused. “It’s actually true. Evil is listening. So, it’s not that I don’t trust you. I wanted to trick them.”