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Authors: A.D. Popovich

Tags: #Zombie Apocalypse

Only The Dead Don't Die (29 page)

BOOK: Only The Dead Don't Die
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She drove around the streets of the neighborhood searching for a road out. She felt trapped, lost in a nightmare, knowing that at any moment she might see Paxton in the rearview mirror. Unfortunately, the hum of the engine attracted stragglers from house to house. Creepers came stumbling out into the streets, reminding her of a childhood memory: kids running to the street, programmed like Pavlov’s dog to the sounds of the ice cream truck. Only these weren’t kids, and she wasn’t driving an ice cream truck. And, she was almost out of gas.
Then what?
She wanted to scream.
Get a grip, Scarlett . . .

“Damn,” she passed Blackberry Lane, again; she had been here minutes ago. The stragglers from before were now gathering into a pack as the familiar sound of the truck’s engine approached again. She had to get out of here fast, but the truck had a problem going more than twenty miles per hour. It shimmied uncontrollably. She prayed one of the wheels didn’t fly off as it had during her escape in the Mini Cooper.

As she approached the next intersection, the remnants of a burnt down school brought chills to her bones. Peering down the street, she saw several commercial buildings. Finally, a main road and she drove down Howe Avenue around the mass of deserted vehicles.

The truck shimmied so badly now that she could barely go ten miles per hour. The truck definitely wasn’t going to last much longer as she turned left onto Arden Way at the “Howe about Arden” intersection. One of her favorite shoe stores used to be in that shopping center, but she couldn’t remember the name of the store, perhaps because in a world of creepers and psychopaths, shopping no longer held any relevance.

A sigh of relief escaped Scarlett’s lips when she spotted the shopping mall up ahead. She had often shopped the Arden Fair Mall during the Holiday Season. The mall’s huge parking lot might be a safe place to hide and maybe find another vehicle. Ding, a little light went off inside of her head when she heard the annoying sound of tools shifting about in the back of the truck.
Are there jumper cables in the back?
She could jump-start a car!

On impulse, she cranked the wheel hard and turned into the mall’s parking lot. Surprisingly, well, not so surprisingly, the mall’s parking lot was nearly empty. At Christmas time the mall was so busy, she would sometimes drive around the lot several times before finding a parking space. As she recalled, Sears was at the other end of the mall and decided to start her search there, because it was a more secluded area.

She made her way to the Sear’s parking area and scouted out three possible vehicles. There were several creepers in the distance, but she had at least five minutes or so. “Damn,” Paxton had taken the jumper cables. Still, it was possible that one of the three cars had a set of cables.
But no one carries jumper cables these days
.
Practically everyone has a flippin’ new car.
That’s it.
Most likely the oldest vehicle would be equipped with cables, she figured, trying to think logically.

She glanced at the three vehicles. The silver Toyota Camry looked to be the oldest based on its faded paint job, but the door stood open. She figured that was a “no go,” the battery most likely would be too dead for a jumpstart. She popped the trunk. “Ta-Dah, cables!”

She just needed a car with gas and a key.
Yeah, right!
That left a Subaru and a Scion. The doors were locked. She sat on the pavement deciding her next move, keeping her eye on four sets of creepers closing in on her, but she still had a couple of minutes. If necessary, she’d drive the truck to the back of the mall.

Lost in thought, Scarlett blankly stared at the debris covered pavement, all the norm these days, thinking how funny it was that people had abandoned their cell phones, their purses, and backpacks. It was the same scene everywhere she’d been so far.
Guess when you suddenly turn creeper, you don’t need all your personal stuff.
Stuff!
She started searching the parking lot for purses. She crawled over to a handbag and dumped the contents onto the pavement. She heard the jingle of keys and saw the Subaru logo imprinted on the key.

Subaru
! Lucky door number one, the thought flashed like a scene from that old show she used to watch with Aunt Marge,
Let’s Make a Deal
. Was it a zonk or a deal? She was about to find out.

The battery was dead. She didn’t waste any more time trying to start the car; instead, she quickly connected the cables. Unfortunately, the whining noise the car made when she tried to start it alerted every flippin’ creeper at the mall.

“Ah, come on, come on. You can do it!” Finally, the engine turned. “Yes!” She was thankful for the truck’s powerful battery, which was probably the only reason the car had started.

“Time to go,” the creepers were closing in on her from all directions; soon they’d turn into one huge, hungry horde. She didn’t have the time to strip the truck of its priceless tools. She did manage to grab a crowbar from the floorboard of the truck. It looked similar to the one Dean always used, and she liked it better than the poker. The poker reminded her that Nate or LuLu—might be dead.

Once in the car, she zigzagged past the creepers, carefully dodging them, not daring to risk damaging her newly found vehicle. She glanced at the fuel gauge, “Awesome!” It had nearly half a tank of gas.

Now what? She had never really expected to make it this far . . .

Chapter 23

After Justin and Ella had exchanged their frantic goodbyes to Scarlett and LuLu, Justin helped Ella jump the backyard’s fence. They ended up in the adjacent backyard, and Ella was already tired.

“Really? We can’t just stop here,” Justin warned. Ella nodded in agreement.

Justin urged her on as they snuck to the side of the house, and after making sure the street ahead was clear of zombies and Paxton, they sprinted across the residential street to the next house, cautiously making their way to its backyard and jumped the next fence.

By the time they had jumped their third fence and had made it to the next residential street, Ella was panting. “I need a break,” she gasped, hunching over with hands resting on trembling knees, looking down at the pavement, trying to catch her breath.

“Ye-ah, OK.” Justin couldn’t shake the uneasiness in his voice. He knew they had to get out of the vicinity like super-fast before Paxton found them. “Like we can’t just stop in the middle of the freakin’ street,” he said, glancing around the neighborhood nervously. Tugging her hand, he led her across the street to the side of a blue and white painted house. “OK, you’ve got one minute.”

Actually, he was amazed Ella had made it this far considering she had never left the safety zone of the hotel the entire time he’d known her.
It must be the fight-or-flight response thing
, he thought. Nate and Paxton apparently frightened her more than the zombies.
Actually, Nate and Paxton really do scare me more than the Zs.

Zombies were just stupid, repulsive creatures with only one desire: food. They had no ulterior motives for power or sex, and that made them easy to predict. But Nate and Paxton, he’d known them for months and had no idea of their despicable ways.
Who’d of thought the two were so sick in the head.
All he wanted to do now was protect Ella from them. But, he did feel like a jerk for leaving Scarlett and LuLu behind.

“You
do
know where we’re going—right?” Ella looked up at him with her big, gorgeous, brown eyes. He really didn’t have the heart to tell her,
Hell no.

“Sure,” he lied, scoping out the street while she rested. A mini-horde of Zs shambled down the street several houses down, and he automatically shifted his position, blocking her view, so she wouldn’t be able to see
them
. He didn’t know how she’d react. If Ella freaked-out and started screaming, they’d be in mucho trouble. That’s when he realized he didn’t have an anti-zombie weapon. He’d been so freaked: he hadn’t even thought about it until now.
Like, how stupid is that?

“OK, so what’s the deal?” Ella asked, breathing calmly.

Justin paused a moment, still formulating the idea that had just come to him. “I’ll know it—when I see it,” he said preoccupied with his idea.

“That doesn’t sound too convincing,” she said with a touch of sarcasm. “So tell me already?” she said too loudly.

Please don’t tell me she’s about to have a girly moment, not with those Zs over there.
“Shhh,” he hushed her.

“OMG, don’t tell me to . . .” Ella started to scold.

“I got this, c’mon,” Justin tugged at her arm.

“Seriously, where
are
we going,” Ella whispered.

“Trust me,” he whispered back. The two crouched slowly, house to house, heading in the opposite direction of the horde.

“Wouldn’t it be much faster to take the street?” Ella interrupted his concentration.

“Ye-ah, but we don’t want to run into a freakin’ horde, you know what I mean? Besides, Paxton could drive down the street any second. He’s got to be looking for us by now,” Justin explained, trying so hard not to lose his patience.
This is like way easier when I’m by myself.

He stopped in the middle of the property easement area of two houses, and they ducked behind some scraggly shrubbery. Justin scanned the rooftops of both houses but didn’t find what he was looking for.

“Not here,” Justin mumbled. They continued heading west, crouching from house to house, relieved they hadn’t run into any zombies yet. Now and then Justin saw one in the distance and purposely didn’t point it out to Ella. So far she was handling this amazingly well even if she was getting on his nerves.

They passed a burnt-out school. It had been a high school from what remained of the WELCOME TO ENCINA HIGH SCHOOL sign. Graffitied in red paint were the words: THE DEAD DON’T DIE. He had a sick feeling it might have been human blood and not spray paint. It spooked the crap out of him.

As they approached the intersection of Bell Avenue and Arden Way, he saw the top of a Taco Bell sign above the trees. He was familiar with this area, at least the main roads, not the residential streets so much. He decided to stay away from the main roads, if it was like Vacaville, hordes tended to congregate and roam the main streets. He really didn’t know why
they
patrolled the main roads; maybe it was some instinctual thing: Zs related streets to humans and humans equal food. Or heck, maybe there was some “universal zombie law” that caused
them
to hang out wherever
they
had originally become
zombified, and they just never thought to leave the area.
Ye-ah, like zombies think.

Unfortunately, he decided they did need to be on the street. It would be dark in a few hours, and he needed to find them a safe place like really, really soon.
Sneaking from yard to yard is taking forever.

Justin stopped again, taking cover next to a burnt-out SUV and scoured the area. “We’ll try Bell Avenue for a while,” he pointed. He was familiar with the street. Sorta, he knew where it was in relation to the mall and the highway.

“Justin, you’ve been dragging me around for hours. I need to eat something,” Ella pouted.

Actually, he was hungry too. He lightly patted his jean jacket; he was always stuffing something in his pockets. He felt like a hero when he pulled out a smashed granola bar that looked like it had been in his pocket for months. It was the healthy bran kind Scarlett loved. He thought they sucked, but the particular brand fit in his pocket perfectly, so he had grabbed one from the kitchen yesterday.

“Really—that’s it?” Ella grimaced.

“Ye-ah, I know, tastes like cardboard.” He split it in half, giving her the slightly bigger portion.

“I’m such a whiner—you’re so awesome Justin,” she munched an oversized bitefull of crunchy granola and gave him a big grin, causing her cheeks to poof-out like an adorable chipmunk. It made him want to laugh.

Dude
,
stay focused.
Ella’s so distracting.
The ability to stay focused and remain calm had kept him alive this long: “Alive—Not Zombified,” that’s his motto. But things were different now—so way different. He absolutely had to protect Ella. He had too! Or life wouldn’t be worth living . . .

To make better time, they snuck along the street’s gutter. If they absolutely had to, they could take refuge inside a house although he resisted going inside any of the homes they passed, since he didn’t have a weapon. He figured he could probably kill a few with his bare hands, but he wanted to save his strength for when he really, really needed it.

Justin listened attentively for the sound of Paxton’s truck as they approached a commercial intersection.
This is
so
not good
, Justin thought. Maybe we should turn around? However, his instincts told him to keep going. Pulling on Ella’s hand, the two took cover inside a Honda in the back of a Carl’s Jr. lot. Ella looked up at him with those gorgeous eyes of hers, and she seemed to be searching his face for an answer.

“You OK?” he asked as he nervously peered out the rolled-up windows.

“Sure,” she said, her voice seemed hoarse, tired, and distant.

“Cool. So, I’m gonna scout out the intersection. See if it’s safe to cross. You should stay here. Any trouble, beep the horn once—only once. Actually, I don’t even know if the horn works when the battery’s dead,” he said with a note of wonderment.

When he opened the door, she grabbed his arm, “Don’t leave me!” Ella pleaded.

“Don’t Worry—Be Happy,”
Why did I say that? S
o
uncool.
“Uno momento pofavore. That’s the only Spanish I know, except for some bad words,” he teased, hoping to ease her angst.

“For real, you’re gonna leave me here?”

“Promise, I’ll be quick!” He got out of the car, then on impulse, ducked back inside to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. Ella smiled. That was all he needed to give him courage. He really didn’t like big intersections; they gave him the gee willies.
All those zombie games I used to play. I loved those games—used to.
Now it was all too real. Now he could design a hella scary zombie game, he thought.
Now that I know how terrifying Zs actually are up close and personal.

As Justin snuck his way to the intersection, he heard a variety of muted noises, like scuffles. He noticed a lot of trash blowing around, so he wasn’t sure if the noises were from the wind or the Zs. The street signpost read ARDEN WAY AND HOWE AVENUE. He knew exactly where he was; he had played baseball in the park down the street when he was a kid.

A distant whirring sound buzzed in the wind. He was near the main entrance of a Carl’s Jr. when he realized the whirring sound wasn’t the wind at all; it was an engine. Then he saw a blue truck turning onto Arden, only a few blocks down. Quickly, he darted behind an abandoned motorcycle tossed on its sides. It didn’t provide much cover, but it was the only thing he could hide behind. If Justin ran now, surely the driver of the truck would see him, and he knew the driver had to be Paxton or Nate.

The truck skidded to a stop in the middle of the intersection as if deciding which way to go. Justin willed himself to be invisible.
If I had one superpower, it would definitely be the “invisibility thing,”
he thought randomly. He hoped Ella didn’t freak and start honking the horn, or worse, come running into the street looking for him.

The truck sat there in the middle of the intersection revving its engine.
What the heck? What’s he doing?
Justin heard gurgling groans not so far away, too close for comfort. Then the truck skidded around in a circle in the middle of the intersection like
it
had suddenly turned zombie or something. His imagination got the better of him for a moment.
That’s freakin’ weird. zombie-trucks?

The truck continued to spin 360s, tires squealing, horn blazing.
That’s so beyond weird—that’s super-psychotic.
That’s when he knew it was Paxton. Justin popped his head up over the motorcycle’s seat cushion after the truck zipped by, and a part of him was actually relieved to see the back of Paxton’s shaved head behind the wheel. His irrational fear of zombie-trucks lingered. To Justin’s horror, Zs began emerging from their hiding places, hording in the middle of the street. It petrified him to see how many Zs had been here all along, blending in the scenery. He ran back super-fast to Ella before she totally freaked.

Justin tried opening the door to the Honda, but the doors were locked. Ella sat in the car, shaking, tears gushing down her cheeks. He tapped the window to get her attention, but she seemed to be lost in “la la land” or she was super-pissed. Either way, he had no time to deal with attitude.
The Zs are coming!

Finally, she opened the door. “You said one minute,” she sobbed.

“Like, we gotta go!” he yelled as loud as he dared, but she continued to ignore him. “Ella—c’mon.” He couldn’t keep the fear and frustration out of his voice.

“Let’s go—”

She didn’t budge. Frustrated, Justin scooted across the seat just as she reached over and girly-punched him in the arm.

Suddenly he felt bad, knowing how difficult this was for her,
especially
for her. He held her for a quick second. “Zombie-truck—did you see that?” he blurted out loud. The sound of squealing tires intensified as if confirming his ludicrous statement.

“We got zombie-trucks now?” Ella panicked. Her eyes couldn’t possibly get any bigger.

“Uh, no I mean, calling out the Zs. It’s Paxton’s thing,” he explained.

“Zombie-trucks?” Why would you even say something like that?” She pouted, brushing the tears away with the back of her hand.

Ella still seemed freaked about the “zombie-truck thing.”
I got to watch what I say.
“He’s trying to trap us by getting the Zs to do his dirty work,” he said, choosing his words carefully. Actually, it was a hecka good idea, and it made Justin’s stomach knot up into a fiery ball of hatred for the sick man.

“What’s wrong with that man,” she said, finally sounding more reasonable.

“We gotta go. They’re everywhere!” he warned. “C’mon on, we have to double-back.
They’re
hording in the intersection, like right now!”

Grabbing Ella’s hand, they ran back the same direction they had just traveled. No time for sneaking around. They ran like heck-a-crazy. Zs everywhere. But the Zs seemed to be mesmerized by the truck like
they
were hypnotized, and
they
stumbled towards the truck, not paying much attention to them.

BOOK: Only The Dead Don't Die
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