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

now it appeared they had caught onto his latest trick as well. He had doused the home’s perimeter with old oil drained from the vehicles in the garage in an attempt to disguise their scent. Those things were learning at an incredible rate.

Truth be known, they were running out of places to hide. Sure, they could commandeer a different home every other day if need be. But it would merely increase the odds of a roving drone spotting them. So far, lady luck had been on their side somewhat.

As if keeping the gang safe weren’t enough to keep him up at night, Ella and the baby were. She seemed to suffer from a severe case of the baby blues: postpartum depression. Of course, it was more than that. The baby was dying. Plain and simple.

“That just ’bout does it.” Dean slipped the hammer into the tool belt hugging his hips, which he had confiscated from the garage. “It’s not much. But it will buy us enough time to escape out the second-floor window.” They kept their only fire-escape ladder in the room he shared with Luther, not tempting the ever-inquisitive Twila.

Scarlett sat by the front room’s window, taking watch. “The gates are a great idea.”

“I’ll leave a few zip ties by the gates.” He merely needed to attach the mesh to the left side of the railing since the other side was attached to the wall with molly bolts. “Any more of ’em?”

“No. They’re just loitering in the street and staring at the house.”

“That’s what gets me,” Dean said. Normally those suckers would have smashed the windows by now. He had a sneaky suspicion their behavior modification had something to do with Twila.

He glanced at her, fast asleep on the couch. Was she unwittingly communicating with them in her sleep? She knew the dangers. It would mean certain death for them all. Despite Twila’s emotional handicap, she did seem to understand the finality of death.

“Uh, Dean—” Scarlett turned to him with pleading eyes. “I’ve accepted the fact that we can’t wait for Zac.” Her words faded into a papery thin whisper. “Sorry, I should have said something sooner. It’s just that—”

Dean held up his hand. Her apparent guilt was all the apology he needed. “You know this for a fact?”

She let out a long sigh. “Staying here puts everyone at risk. But I’m not getting any messages from the Silver Lady advising what we should do. Where do you think we should go?”

Dean rubbed his itchy bearding chin the way he did when contemplating a tough situation. What he wouldn’t do for a decent razor right about now. He pulled up a chair beside her with his back against the window and pretended to admire his 4-H-club-worthy anti-zombie defense system.

It was a loaded question. If it were just him, he’d hike back to his California cabin to reminisce the good ole days via scrapbooks chock-full of washed-out Polaroids of Mary and Kyle. Until his time came. But his consciousness needled tirelessly that his new purpose in this god-awful world was ensuring his friends’ well-being. Somehow.

“My personal opinion—head back to New Mexico,” he finally answered. “For the life of me, I can’t stop thinking of this place my granddaddy sold horses to every summer.”

“What makes it so special?” Scarlett asked with sparked interest.

Besides the breathtaking views and abundance of wildlife and freshwater, he really couldn’t say. “Safety,” came to mind. “It’s not too far—”

“Wait,” Scarlett said hastily. “As a precaution, don’t tell me. Don’t even think it in your mind.”

That would be challenging. “This particular barren mountain would dissuade most folks. But the east side is a wonderment of nature. Good for trout fishing. And fairly secluded. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if we ran into a band of survivors riding out the pandemic in serenity.”

“How do we get there?” She flailed her hands in the air and let them fall into her lap in a rare moment of hopelessness.

“Trust me. I’ve been hashing it out. The lame-brain scheme that keeps coming to mind—we simply drive right into Tent City.” It would be the fastest way to travel with Mateo and Twila.

“How do we cross Zoat?” Scarlett asked.

“From what Justin said, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find a smuggler tunnel in Tent City. Reckon with Justin’s connections and you and Twila’s abilities, we ought to find one. Not to mention, we’ve got an ace up our sleeve. The gold,” he said matter-of-factly.

The lone tear slipping down her cheek put his own heart through the wringer. It must be tough, finally finding Zac, only to lose him. Dean patted her shoulder. “Now, don’t you go all gloomy on me. It’s enough that I have to deal with Ella and Justin. And that youngin’ of yours.” He looked to Twila. “Besides, I wouldn’t give up on Zac just yet. He’s bound to show up sooner or later,” he reassured.

She swiveled around on the stool to face him, smiling. “He’s definitely unpredictable.”

“When the fellas return, we’ll put it to a vote.” He wasn’t taking the heat for this decision, not with so much at risk. “Did you check on Ella this morning?”

“She’s practically in mourning. She lies in bed cuddling the baby like it’s the last time she’ll ever hold him.” Scarlett hung her head low. “Mateo is unresponsive.”

“Who can blame her? To give birth to two babies in a time like this. Well, it’s a damn curse, that’s what it is!” Dean vented.

A tap at the window startled them. A doll with purple hair banged against the window. “Hell’s bells!” It was all he could do to stifle the scream begging to come out.

Scarlett gasped. “What is that?”

Dean peered over the window ledge to find a dead-head child not more than six or seven peering up at him on her tiptoes. It