Only The Dead Don't Die | Book 4 | Finding Home Popovich, A.D. (any book recommendations txt) 📖

A deep whirring pounded the sky.

“W-T-F!” They followed Justin’s jaw-dropping gape. “Helicopters!”

Zac gently stroked the nervous stallion. “Did I mention, I’m a wanted man—”

“Hey, I’m the official dissident,” Justin reminded.

“Hell’s bells!” Feel like I’m riding with the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang. Onyx bucked.

“No! The bad men want the babies!” Twila lashed out.

“Dean!” Scarlett yelled. “Go!”

The stallion bucked. “Whoa! Think it’s time we disappear into the woods.” Dean took off, not sure where the creek was.

“Don’t worry, Grandpa. Onyx knows the way.”

The helicopters’ thuds throbbed his eardrums. Louder and louder. Artillery shells added to the cacophony. Dean found it downright impossible to slow down the stallion. He hazarded a look over his shoulder as the horde emerged from the dust cloud and fanned out into groups. More like troops, he thought. As the horde gained on his friends on foot, the helicopter fired into the horde. At least, they weren’t aiming at his friends. Just yet. Probably didn’t want to risk hitting the mothers and their babies.

“Faster, Onyx!” Twila shouted while Dean hugged the stallion tighter with his granddaughter snuggly between his arms.

They made it into the forest, galloping far too fast for the terrain. “For Christ’s sake, tell your magical horse to slow down!” Dean demanded.

“Onyx knows what he’s doing,” Twila lipped back.

Certainly, hope he does. Dean couldn’t look back; he was too busy ducking under tree limbs. The heavy artillery stopped. Sporadic gunfire took over. Which told him, the helicopters had neutralized the horde and were picking off the stragglers. Or his friends.

They came to a clear-cut area. Except for a barren five-foot tree with, of all things, ornaments hanging down. “What the devil?” Dean gasped.

Onyx stopped next to the odd-looking tree. “We made it!” Twila elated.

The thud of horse hooves approached. Ella and Mindy trotted into the clearing. He waved them on. That’s when Dean realized they must have gone completely off course, for there was no sign of the creek.

“Grandpa, this is where we are supposed to be. The creek was a trick to fool the X-strains.”

He never knew what was going on inside little Twila’s head. He had more faith in Zac’s judgement. “We need to keep moving.” Surely, they’d come across the creek. “Giddy-up!” The stallion refused to budge.

A rash of automatic gunfire peppered the forest.

“O-M-G! Do you think they’re okay?” Ella cried out.

At the rustling behind him, Dean reached for the 9mm Zac had lent him. Twila slid down the stallion. He certainly didn’t have the inclination to deal with an unruly child. Not with God knows what approaching.

Twila gawked at the pathetic tree. “Ooh, look at these pretty watches.”

“Huh.” Watches? On a tree?

“Young lady, get over here,” Dean declared to no avail. Reluctantly, he dismounted. The gunfire had stopped. And he wasn’t too sure it was a good sign.

“Ella, make sure Twila stays put. I’ll see if I can spot the rest of the gang.” Although it was pointless. What I really need to find is that blasted creek!

Not wanting to give away their position, he crept from tree to tree. He finally found an unobstructive view down the mountain and focused in on the three helicopters that had landed at the base. Men in desert fatigues swarmed the area. A series of hand motions told him they were heading up the mountain.

Dean jogged back, despite his aching joints. He should have asked Twila to send him a healing blast. A snap. The snap of a tree limb. He froze. Another snap. He drew the 9mm. He turned around to find himself face-to-face with a god-ugly dead-head.

He did not hesitate. He let off two rounds into its skull when the thing leaped into the air for him. Dean ducked. It crashed inches away. Another rustled in the underbrush. “Hell’s bells!” He swiveled in time, firing into its skull. Two of those suckers most likely meant there was a horde. He had to get back to the girls. The rest of the gang were on their own, coldblooded as it was to think that way.

And then the forest spun. The trees transformed into elongated monsters, taunting him. Grotesque laughter took over the forest.

“Grandpa . . .” Little Twila’s plea faded into the darkness closing in on him as the strands of death slithered around him like an eerie animated cluster of tree roots dead-set on sucking away every molecule of air from his deflating lungs.

Chapter 42

Justin Chen belly-crawled through the thick underbrush as gunfire erupted through the forest. After the helicopters had landed, dispersing the horde, he had stayed behind to provide cover for Ella, Mindy, Twila, and Dean. But when the X-strains had charged the mountainside, he, Zac, Scarlett, and Luther had run for their lives.

Justin finally found a vantage point providing a clear view below. But he didn’t see his friends. He spied the soldiers methodically securing the area. They definitely weren’t Enforcers. These dudes had too much tactical shit. He had heard of Last State’s Elite Military. Normally they secured Last State’s beaches from America’s old enemies who constantly tested Last State’s defenses.

“Holy shit!” The military team fanned out and started flanking the mountainside. He and his friends didn’t have a freaking chance. He leaned against a tree, gulped down some courage, and sprinted up the mountain from tree to tree. He had to find Ella and Mateo.

Where’s the freakin’ creek? Everything had gone so wrong, so fast. He continued tree-hopping up the mountain, stopping to watch for movement every few minutes.

A horrific stench drifted in the breeze. Slowly, he peered around the tree. Easy-peasy, just a stray. It spun in his direction like a demonized-Z, rabidly sniffing at the air. More of its horde scoured the area, obviously on someone’s trail. Their sniffing rampage curdled his