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

Scarlett, Ella, and Mindy had dressed in over-sized jeans and baggy shirts, along with hats and sunglasses to disguise their gender. Ella had discovered an ingenious way to hide the babies: the Peruvian ponchos the previous owners had left in the closet. Ella and Mindy could carry the babies in the sling carriers under the ponchos. No one would notice unless Mateo or Starla started crying at an inopportune moment.

She frantically racked her brain for a way to disguise Twila while constantly battling what felt like a dark-evil force sucking away her lifeforce. It reminded her of when her third eye had witnessed the metaphysical python slowly suffocating Shari, breath by breath. Was that happening to her?

She peeked into Ella’s bunk. “I’ll be in my bunk for a few minutes. I need to clear my energy before we leave the bus.”

“Can you clear my negative energy next?” Ella asked.

“I’ll try,” Scarlett said. Of course, why had she been so self-consumed? Clearing dark and negative energies was one of her post-pandemic abilities. But, she had been running on low vibes since Zac had abandoned them for some crazy whim of escaping in a helicopter. Silver Lady, I need you. Scarlett held back the whimper from her silent plea.

She lay on her bunk, determined to recharge. While her angst played havoc with her rational brain, she struggled for that elusive blank mind state. That place where everything existed in perfect harmony, with no need to do anything but simply be.

She visualized sparkling gold and silver lights entering her crown chakra. Invoking intent, she willed cosmic prana to re-energize her physical, etheric, astral, and mental bodies.

She must have touched down for an instant. When she awoke from that hypnotic theta state, she basked in its rejuvenating energy and mentally cleared away the murkiness clinging to her. Reluctantly, she tapered down the white-light infusion before blissing-out into la-la land.

Scarlett jolted out of her meditation when the bus crossed over the road’s wake-up rumble strip. Horns blared in retaliation. The meditation had been a treat while it lasted. At least she no longer had the urge to go running down the middle of the road, screaming.

“Folks, she just conked out on us,” Dean announced, coasting to the field beyond a shallow drainage ditch.

Scarlett joined the crowd of anxious faces at the kitchen table.

“I’m so not ready for this.” Ella clung to Mateo. Justin darted from window to window, too preoccupied to comfort her.

Scarlett sent Ella a wave of calmness. She turned to find Twila doing the same thing. Twila’s healing abilities had grown significantly. If only she learned to accept the wrongs of this world instead of spending most her energies combatting them. Healing was the perfect distraction for the child. Especially for Dean’s chronic arthritis, she mused.

Dean strolled toward them, wearing a fearless face. The unwavering determination furrowing his brows implied they weren’t going down without a hell of a fight.

“Justin, you used to live in Zhetto,” Dean said. “How far you reckon we are from Tent City?”

Justin continued his window-to-window search. “Like twenty to thirty miles.”

“Just buy more gas.” Twila gave her silly cross-eyed face.

“Do you see any gas stations?” Justin chastised.

“Hey, what about that pop-up market we passed?” Luther asked.

“It was ’bout a mile back,” Dean informed. “Didn’t see any petrol signs.” He looked to Scarlett for the answer. “You think it’s worth a shot?”

Pop-up shops had been common across the U.S. during the great migration to Texas. Scarlett delved into her inner sanctum. A misty image of the pop-up stand formed in her mind. She scanned it for gas cans. All she saw were baskets of produce, clothing, camping equipment, and shopping carts. “That’s it!” Scarlett exclaimed. “No gas from what I saw. But—they sell shopping carts.”

Luther side-eyed her warily.

“Awesomeness,” Justin elated. “The homeless use carts to carry their stuff.”

“Yay, I can hide in the cart,” Twila said, tuning into her idea.

“I’ll go.” Justin grabbed a baseball bat.

“We still have Zac’s gold,” Luther reminded.

“We need to save it.” Justin sifted through a pillowcase of looted pharmaceuticals. “The gold will get us out of Last State.” He rattled a handful of pill bottles. “These will work.”

“I’ll tag along,” Dean offered, exhaustion trickling through his voice.

She sent Dean a quick blast of energy. It must have been stressful driving a bus full of illegals through the Forbidden Zone. “Dean, you should rest.” She would do a thorough healing on him later if Twila didn’t beat her to it.

“You can’t go—” Dean started to lose it, the way he did when he was out of ideas. Which was seldom.

“You forget,” Scarlett gently asserted. “I lived in the lower part of Zhetto for months.” She knew what to expect after helping Shari at the Zhetto Market.

Justin stuffed his pockets with Sudafed, Claritin, and Viagra.

“It will give you a chance to prioritize our bulk supplies since we can’t take everything,” she said with finality. She kissed Twila on the forehead before heading to the door.

Dean rubbed his clean-shaven chin, thanks to the razors she had surprised him with. “Guess, you’re right.”

Scarlett checked the chamber of the 9mm Zac had gifted her at the bunkhouse. The only thing she had left of him. No. That wasn’t true. She still had his essence forever etched into her heart. She vowed, no matter what happened—never to forget.

“No guns,” Justin warned. “Enforcers run random sting operations along this stretch between Zhetto and Tent City. A gun will get you an all-inclusive vacay at Gitmo. As in brutal interrogation.”

Reluctantly, Scarlett set the gun on the driver’s seat, opting for one of the bats next to the door.

“Oh, take one of these,” Ella said. “I made burritos with the leftovers.” Ella handed out foil-wrapped