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

Could he pull this off? “Whatever happens, don’t let go of me!” Unexplainable rage overtook him. He let the attic door crash open. The Zs crumpled to the floor.

Time to get his A-game on. Methodically, he assessed the offensive lineup. Lost in a bout of bickering, the horde fought each other over ownership of the cord, which gave him an advantage. Until . . . they realized supper was getting away.

With Mindy hanging onto him, he jumped into the swarming horde, protecting her body as best as he could. The flak jacket would help him. A little.

He dreaded the assault of piercing bites puncturing his skin. But pain, he could tolerate. He pummeled through the horde like a quarterback on his career-making running play.

“The Hail Mary for Hu-manity,” an unknown voice crooned in his ear.

The peculiar voice seemed to kickstart him into The Zone. Feeling like a Marvel Superhero linebacker, he lowered his head and hit a hole straight through the offensive line, shirking off his snarling opponents with brute force and sheer willpower. Don’t be that jerk who fumbles at the one-yard line. No getting sacked. Not today! He was getting to the end zone. With Mindy and Starla. Alive.

A quick look down the Z-infested hallway told him to avoid the blitz and blast down the stairs instead of the window. He sprinted down three steps at a time.

Luther flew out the lodge’s front door, driving all two hundred pounds of mean-muscle harder than ever. When the truck came into view, he did not ease up. A quick look behind him warned he had a twenty-second lead.

He opened the passenger door for her. “Get in!” Damn! The window had busted during Dean’s narrow escape at the Stanwycks. He rushed the driver’s side. The clunker better not crap out on me.

He turned the ignition’s key, mentally refusing the fear trying to incapacitate him. “Come on, baby!” It started as the first X-strains reached the truck. He punched the gas pedal. “Touchdown!” Luther laughed wildly.

Mindy shrank in her seat and hugged her backpack, eyeing him like he’d gone mad. That’s when he happened to catch his reflection in the rearview mirror. Bloody bite marks!

He handed her the 9mm by the butt. “If I turn—shoot. Shoot ’til you run out of ammo. Then, you take this truck. And—” He grabbed the notebook from the dashboard and wrote directions to the Frito-Lay warehouse. “Look for the Austin Powers bus. Scarlett and the gang should still be there.”

Luther was about to find out if Aunt Mattie was a charlatan as he labored to hold on to his waning consciousness.

Chapter 18

Scarlett Lewis lay on top of the bus, hidden under a tarp. Dean had parked it on the most secluded side of the warehouse where she surveilled for drones. But mainly, for Luther. The lack of drone activity patrolling the Forbidden Zone’s border wall offered a much-needed respite with everything else going on.

According to Justin’s source, Last State would go into lockdown soon due to the unprecedented horde outbreak. Naturally, Last State’s first priority was protecting their precious Elites in the ABC Zones. It gave her friends a bit of breathing room.

“Luther, where are you?” She vexed as the sun dipped below the horizon. Strange, she no longer sensed his energy—as if he had vanished. Why had he risked going to the lodge, now of all times? His conscience must have intervened. A common side effect once one’s kundalini awakened.

Last night’s vision of ancient scrolls foretold the eerie collapse of Last State. Propelled by the hatred of their lost humanity, X-strains desired to devour every beating heart on the planet. And then what?

“Their un-dying hunger won’t subside until they cannibalize one another,” a faint voice answered.

Interesting. It wasn’t the Silver Lady. A watery image of a robed-creeper blurred into view. Suppressed memories of those lost days imprisoned by the King of the Undead and his faithful followers flooded to the surface. Panic took hold until the robed-creeper assured her the king had died his second death.

“Fear not, blue-eyed one. ’Tis I, the Queen of the Undead,” the robed-creeper proclaimed. “Our clan strives for peace as do your kind. For no beings, living or undead, shall co-exist with X-strains.”

Was it the same robed-creeper who had officiated the bizarre cave ceremony? It pressed a lapis lazuli pendant to its forehead. That’s Shari’s pendant! Shari had lent it to Scarlett to stimulate her third eye and ward off psychic attacks. At some point, the king had stolen it. Apparently, the new queen had claimed it. Did this creeper have access to its innate metaphysical abilities? Perhaps these creepers weren’t as dead as she had presumed.

Dean popped open the roof’s emergency hatch. “I’m done topping off the fluids. The tires have a decent amount of tread and air pressure. The bus is warmed up. We’re good to go . . . eh, any sign of good ol’ Luther?”

The curious vision evaporated. “No,” she forced herself to say.

“Alrighty then. My alarm went off thirty-five minutes ago,” Dean said with remorse, not his usual impatience. “We’ve got the little ones to consider—”

Was he asking her consent to leave? Without Luther? Scarlett bit her lip. “I’ll meet you inside.”

“Use the front exit. The freeze-dried foods block the rear exit,” Dean said.

Begrudgingly, she climbed down the ladder attached to the rear of the bus. The renovated bus was actually the perfect solution for their plight. It provided comfortable transport, keeping the children out of sight until they secured passage across Zoat. And, the windows were high enough to prevent the creeper’s favorite pastime, window bashing. It even had storage space on the roof rack. Regrettably, they hadn’t escaped their last safehouse with their hard-earned scavenged items. Still, they had their go-bags and the food Justin and Luther had purchased.

Justin opened the bus