Zombie Road | Book 8 | Crossroads of Chaos Simpson, A. (new books to read .txt) 📖

the museum and mingled among the priceless artworks adorning the walls. Classical and Jazz gave way to world beats, disco and house music. They ate fine foods and Natty danced until she was sweating in the gas light glow of the underground ballroom. She’d been a little bit embarrassed of her clothes, she was still in leather, but the constant attention of dozens of young men kept her distracted. Jessie let his guard slip and felt safe with the guardians, the culture keepers as they called themselves.

Near dawn and many bottles of wine later the party wound down and they were shown to a swanky apartment on the third floor across the street from the park. The plumbing was gravity fed from a tank on the roof and the water wasn’t hot but it felt great to wash off the sweat and grime. They found their bedrooms with the fine Egyptian cotton sheets and were sleeping deeply before the sun came up.

When Natty awoke and strolled into the kitchen wearing a sumptuous bathrobe, Jessie was at the table cleaning his guns. He had coffee he’d heated up on a Coleman stove and was wearing his leather pants and an old black t-shirt that had seen better days.

She sat, still sleepy and drank from his cup.

“I love this place.” She said. “It’s amazing what they’ve done.”

“It is.” He agreed. “I think it’s sustainable for a few years.”

“Only a few years?” she asked. “Why not forever?”

“Because the dead will keep dying off.” Jessie said. “The rats are eating them, you know and that’s going to be a big problem. Someday a retriever will figure out it’s easy to get in and the looting will start because people suck. Without the hordes as a deterrent, everybody in the Tower will be sending men to take everything that isn’t nailed down. These people are peaceful. I have yet to see a gun and they won’t be able to stop the men that have them.”

“That’s not right.” She said. “There’s nothing we can do?”

“If they had guns and knew how to use them, they could defend a museum or two but there are probably a hundred here on the island. All of them filled with treasures. Even the churches are almost like museums. I don’t know, Natty. I don’t have an answer but I can see what’s going to happen. Besides, in another five years when their food source dries up, they’re going to be battling starving rats with a taste for human flesh.”

She shivered at the thought of it.

“Are we leaving?” she asked when he started reassembling his guns.

“I am. You can stay if you want. It’ll be safe for a few more years.”

“I want to go with you.” She said. “We make a good team.”

“We do.” He smiled at her. “You’ve come a long way, you’re not the same lost little girl I found in the woods.”

“But” he continued. “All good things must come to an end. I told you I’d get you someplace safe. I was thinking of Lakota but to be honest, this is much nicer. For now, anyway.”

She knew he meant it. He’d left her in Iona and if she hadn’t volunteered to ride patrol and chanced to meet him, she’d still be there.

“I think I’ll stay here. Maybe I can help.”

“I think you can.” Jessie said. “You’re good with a gun and you’re cool under pressure.”

She smiled at the compliment; he didn’t give them often.

Jessie shrugged into his battered leather jacket and she hugged him tight, her eyes starting to shimmer with unshed tears.

“You remember where the car is parked?” he asked.

“Yes.” She said into his chest, her arms wrapped around him.

“It’s yours now. I’m taking the boat. Don’t forget about the booby traps when you’re big enough to drive it.”

“You can come back sometimes.” She said. “You can come visit me.”

“If I come back this way I will.” He said but they both knew he wouldn’t.

He sat in front of the Mona Lisa for a long time and like millions of others, wondered what she’d been thinking. What was she hiding behind that smile? He touched the locket around his neck then reached around to unclasp the gold chain. He held if for a long time before he opened it and saw the wide smile that went all the way to her eyes. She was with her parents in one of the tiny photos standing in front of the pyramids. She was young, maybe twelve or fourteen. The other was one of her by herself, a school portrait with her blonde hair carefully combed and a big grin on her face. A Scarlet smile, huge and inviting. Nothing at all like the painting. Nothing at all like Maddy’s. He closed it and placed it at the base of the case.

He stacked the pallets against the back door when he left then hurried to beat the horde before it wandered back down the west side. Jessie untied from the moorings, shoved off the dock with the push pole and guided the boat out into the current.

He found the inlet where he’d parked the car and anchored the boat. Using the little inflatable, he paddled ashore and fired up the radio.

The connection was scratchy and filled with static but he got Wire Bender who sent for his old man. While they waited for someone to track him down, he talked to a few of the other guys listening in. He spread the rumor about New York, how it was wall to wall undead, no way to get in and back out and live to tell the tale. His mom came on the radio, asked him when he was coming home. The interference was getting worse, they could barely hear each other.

“Not for a while.” He said. “I’ve got a sailboat, I’m going to go south, maybe to the Caribbean.”

He had to repeat himself a few times for her to understand and he thought he heard his dads voice before he