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

bonkers. “Careful, Mr. Snowden. It’s not like you can seek asylum in Russia,” Justin warned. Was the Resistance leader in over his head? Well, let Joe save Last State. All he wanted to do was save Ella, Mateo, and his friends. “Then why are you leaving—” Justin started.

“I’ll be back. If the protesters and White Hats take over the Capitol and kick out the Elites,” Joe stated firmly. “Otherwise, what’s the friggin’ point?”

The sirens went off. Holy shit! They finally used Justin’s siren warning idea.

“That can’t be good.” Luther’s tone fell flat.

The helicopters took off. “There go their beloved Elites,” Justin said snidely.

“Better scram. Catch you on the other side of Zoat.” DiNozzo took off toward the end of the line.

“See ya,” Justin called after him. I doubt it.

Luther craned above the crowd. “No signs of a horde. Bro, when you said you had a friend in the Resistance, I assumed you were exaggerating.”

“Moi, exaggerate?” Justin smirked, wondering what was about to hit the market. Probably a horde. Joe would have warned him of an impending riot or rebel attack.

He analyzed their escape options. He was ready to climb over the fence, razor wire and all. But he’d just get shot down, left dangling on the wire until someone took the time to rip him down.

Luther exhaled heavily. “Auntie Mattie, what did you get me into? Hold on a minute. The bus!”

“You know,” Justin said with an unexpected realization, “with hordes on the loose, it’s the only safe way outta Last State.”

“Yup,” Luther said. “These people will stampede the exit at the first sign of a horde. Machine guns or not. And what the hell are Black Hats?”

“Hacktivists that spam CitChat with deepfake videos to keep the cits scared and compliant.”

Luther’s blank-eyed stare revealed he didn’t really get it.

“Think of it like cyberpunk warfare. You’ve got the good guy hackers attempting to expose the injustices of the system and all that, and the bad guy hackers who get off on cyberterrorism, like spreading disinformation, rewriting history, and spyware.”

“And let me guess. The bad guys are the Black Hats. As usual,” Luther retorted.

“Dude, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not a racial thing. That’s just what they call them.”

“Look.” Luther pointed to the lone Enforcer monitoring the line. “Something’s about to go down.”

A disgruntled Enforcer clomped by and yelled into his radio, “You know what? I fuckin’ quit!” He slammed the radio to the ground and stomped it to oblivion. “Troops, stand down and get your asses to safety,” he shouted to the Enforcers on the guard tower.

“Getting one of those kumbaya moments.” Luther took off with the dolly. “Time to jet.” He shoved through the crowd as they rushed the unguarded exit.

“Dude, the truck’s that way,” Justin reminded.

“We’re buying that big-ass bus!” Luther thundered above the crowd.

“Amal-zing!”

They hightailed it to the bus. The sales guy must have picked them out of the crowd. He gave them a double thumbs-up.

“Bro, did you talk to the owner?” Luther shouted.

“Oh, hell yeah. He really wants to sell it,” the sales guy admitted, eyeing a customer roaming the makeshift car lot. “Make me an offer.”

“I’ve got one of these babies.” Luther slapped a CombiBar credit card in the guy’s hand. Justin had no idea the current value of gold since it fluctuated every freaking hour like the stock market.

“Elite Gold?” The car sales guy studied it for a sec. “You rock!”

Justin had a feeling the bus owner would never see an ounce of that gold in this dog-eat-dog world.

“How do we handle the DMV registration?” Not that Justin gave a shit. But he wanted the transaction to appear legit.

“Hurry it up,” Luther said uneasily, scanning the perimeter.

“You hear any screaming?” the stoner sales guy inquired calmly.

Justin looked around. “No.”

“Then, we’ve got time.” The sales guy fingered through a fanny pack full of pink slips. “Sign here.” He pulled out another form. “Sign this release form. You got ten days to complete the digital paperwork. No refunds if Last State denies your vehicle request,” he warned. “But, hey, someone will be here if you need to resell it.”

Luther started loading the bus. “Put it in your name. In case I don’t—”

“Ye-ah, sure, okay.” Brain freeze. Justin had forgotten his latest CitChip identity.

Luther happened to look back at them. “Mr. Bruce Jones, we don’t got all day!”

Justin wanted to laugh. Good friends knew what the other was thinking. Or this ESP stuff was the new norm for him.

“Thanks for making my day. When the sirens go off, it’s like Black Friday at the mall. See ya around.” The sales guy headed for the onslaught of roving customers.

Justin hoped Luther knew how to drive the bus. “It’s an automatic, right?”

“Yup, that’s the first thing I checked,” Luther said, staring into space. “Why don’t you take it for a test drive—as in to the safehouse.” Luther let out a long breath. “I’m going for Mindy!”

“Huh?” Justin stood there in jaw-dropping disbelief. “Seriously?”

“If I don’t make it to the safehouse in five hours, don’t wait for me. I’ll catch up to you in Tent City,” was all Luther said as he sprinted to the truck.

“W-T-F! Dude, there’s no way Mindy survived,” Justin shouted to Luther’s backside.

What had Luther’s crazy Voodoo aunt told him?

Chapter 15

Dean Wormer worked on the final touches of the makeshift wired-meshed gates he had rigged to the top and bottom of the stairs. The contraptions ought to keep those dead-heads at bay long enough to escape down the emergency ladder. He hadn’t risked boarding over the first floor’s windows since the hammering would alert every dead-head in the vicinity.

Just as Scarlett had anticipated, those suckers had learned to associate the bug spray’s nauseating odor to humans. And