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

Jessie sat in an Adirondack style chair under a canopy made from an old sail. His tattered copy of the book Bastille had written a century ago sat on a table next to him. He couldn’t read it anymore, his up-close eyes were too far gone, but sometimes he liked to hold it and remember those long in their graves. Some of the stories he’d told the interviewers hadn’t made it into the book. They had differed from everyone else’s. It didn’t matter. If things he told them never happened in this timeline, they had chalked it up to the half-crazy ramblings of a loner who had been too long out in the wastelands.

“I’ve been walking the earth, wandering to and fro.” She said when they settled in under the canopy. “I’ve been searching for you for a long, long time.”

They talked through the day as gentle breezes caressed them as she told him of the boy and Scarlet and how they had blossomed and made a name for themselves in the known systems. They had become formidable fighters, their speed and skill unmatched in open space. They had settled on one of the central planets in the hub and were planning on having their first child when she left. They were safe and secure; she had fulfilled her commitment and there were tears when she said goodbye and returned to her lonely asteroid.

She told of jumping to his last coordinates but had wound up seventy years in the future and not in Ohio. She was somewhere far north in a frozen tundra. It took months of wandering south before she found an outpost and figured out the approximate year. She could try to jump again but she’d seen how that had been for him. Dozens of jumps and thousands of years could pass before she came this close again.

There were very few trade routes with trucks delivering goods between cities. The only vehicles were ancient, ran on ethanol and were hard to obtain. Even if you had one, you either made your own fuel or traded at the outposts and if you weren’t one of the locals, chances are you’d lose your car and your life. Most people rode horses or never went more than a few miles from where they were born and most strong holds became self-sufficient.

She knew he lived, knew she was in the right place and time because even in the outermost villages they knew of the Road Angel. He was a folk tale, a legend too big to be true, a fairy story told to children. She came across Bastilles book and kept searching, kept wandering the land and asking everyone she came across. She found his long-abandoned lodge in the mountains of Idaho. She came across a cult that worshipped the Queen of the Cats in the far north, an enclave in the desert that claimed to be his descendants and many people who had an uncle or grandfather who had met the man with the scar.

“Descendants?” Jessie asked.

“Yes.” she replied. “There is a large, desert dwelling community that lives near a mountain filled with tunnels and ancient wonders. Some of them are like you, they are more than human.”

“But I never had any kids.” Jessie said.

“They claimed they were the children, grandchildren and great grandchildren of another man called Jessie. He was a mighty warrior and a benevolent chief. They say his mother was called Sandy and she knew you when the world was still in the grips of the undead.”

Jessie pondered that for a moment, let it sink in. He had a son.

“How is he?” he asked. “Did you meet him?”

“I visited his grave.” Maddy said. “He was killed in battle.”

Jessie sighed and after a time she continued her story.

She followed false leads and hunted for him deep into Mexico. There were rumors he’d been seen in the swamps of Louisiana, the plains of Kansas and even in New York City. She followed every one, walking everywhere she went. She met a band of warriors who rode wild animals and had their own legends about him. She met a caravan of gypsy traders who told her of an ageless hermit living on an island somewhere in the Bahamas and she started walking to the tip of Florida. The tales became fresher the farther south she went. They weren’t handed down stories, she met people who claimed to have seen him, people he had helped or traded with.

“And so I have arrived.” She finished. “I have found you.”

“I’m glad.” Jessie said. “I’ve missed you. I wish things could have been different but I’m on deaths’ doorstep now. I think you found me just in time to bury me.”

“Perhaps not.” She said and pulled his bracelet out of the rucksack at her feet.

He stared at it for a long time, fuzzy and indistinct with his aged eyes but he knew what it was.

“I don’t want to go back.” He said. “I don’t want to die on an asteroid, I’d rather die here on the beach.”

“It has been modified.” She said. “It has been encoded with your backup. It will restore your body to the last time you jumped. The last time I saw you leave. It is the same as a rejuvenation bracelet, the same as if you were in a cabinet at one of the centers. You can keep your memories or delete them with a complete reset. There are no time disrupters on this planet or even in this solar system so there is no danger of being obliterated.”

Jessie considered it, wondered if he wanted to start over. Did he want to be young and hungry, itching for action and adventure? Did he want to live another hundred and fifty years? Or longer?

Maybe. He would have liked to meet his son, maybe do things a little differently.

“There is more you should know before you make your decision.” Maddy said and touched his