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

Scarlett replied by waving a hand in the air. When they made it past the grove of trees, a spine-tingling tremor shot up her root chakra to her heart, causing palpitations. “Run,” Scarlett urged, trying to keep her stack of carts on the shoulder.

Justin caught up to her. “What’s wrong?”

“I think someone’s coming for us.” She turned around to see a dark-blue metallic low-rider driving on the shoulder. Pacing them.

There wasn’t anything they could do but keep pushing the carts and hope the bad feeling was paranoia. They obviously weren’t Enforcers. Maybe they merely had car trouble.

“Why are they still following us?” Scarlett’s knuckles had turned from white to red as she pushed the carts faster and faster.

“Weird. I think they’re waiting for a break in the traffic—to rob us.” Justin’s jaw twitched.

The bus was yards away, but that break in the traffic was seconds away. Her heart thudded against her chest at the revving of the engine. She and Justin glanced behind them long enough to confirm her suspicions.

“Jump in the gutter!” Justin shrieked, taking his carts with him.

The low-rider gunned for them. Scarlett jerked her stack of carts to the right and shoved them beyond the shoulder. A second after the carts careened into the drainage ditch with their purchases flying out, she jumped and landed beside the carts.

Two men brandishing melee weapons jumped out the low-rider. A rifle blast startled everyone. They all turned toward the gunshot. Luther and Dean stood there steadfast, aiming their weapons at the men in a scene right out of a Longmire episode.

“You want four flat tires?” Luther boomed while Dean swaggered around like John Wayne.

The two men couldn’t scramble to their low-rider fast enough. Luther aimed low and followed the low-rider with the M4.

Justin passionately flipped off the men with both hands as they sped off. “Asswipes.”

Dean and Luther high-fived each other.

“So much for hiding our weapons,” Scarlett grumbled to herself. If this was what it was like in Tent City, she dreaded it.

“Meet y’all at the bus,” Luther shouted.

Dean hurried to them. “Twila told us you were in trouble. I take it no petrol?”

“No,” Scarlett said, helping Justin retrieve their purchases.

“Twila says we need to leave.” Dean’s brows dug deeper into his well-etched forehead.

When they made it back to the bus, Twila, Ella, and Mindy were handing items to each other down a human chain while Luther set the supplies outside the bus, opposite side of the traffic.

“We whittled things down, starting with the basics: sleeping bags, fishing gear, camp stove, cooking utensils, and whatnot. Then, we’ll divvy out the food—as much as we can haul.” Dean tested a cart. “These ought to do the trick. Everyone, cover your cart with a tarp. There’s a mess of them on the driver’s seat.”

“Twila, bring our packs,” Scarlett said from the backdoor. She wanted to see how much room they had after Twila sat inside the cart. “And bring a pillow to sit on.”

Twila ran to her with an armful of items. “Ooh, Onyx is very sad. He misses us and wants to come.”

Interesting, Twila still communicated with Onyx. “Tell him hello for me. Where is he?”

Twila stuck out her lower lip. “They found him and took him back to the ranch. He hates it there.”

“Folks, we’re leaving in three minutes flat,” Dean bellowed.

She wanted to search the etherworlds to see what approached, only there wasn’t time. For what if she blacked out?

“And don’t forget the canteens. Keep one on your person at all times,” Dean lectured like an overbearing summer camp counselor.

“I’ll get them.” Twila was off again.

Twila returned with canteens strapped over her shoulders. While she handed them out, Scarlett handed out the MREs and Survival Tabs.

“Grandpa Dean, there’s an extra one.” Twila held up the canteen.

“It’s for you.” Dean winked.

“Ooh, I get my very own canteen.” Twila hugged it, silly as ever.

Scarlett tapped the cart’s handle. “Get in.”

She had lined the inside of the cart with a blanket. Once Twila climbed in, she handed her the Tom Sawyer novel Dean had given her along with a flashlight. Anything to keep her occupied.

Twila sat cross-legged on the pillow while Scarlett tied a tarp over the top. “I can’t see—” Twila complained.

“Time’s up,” Dean shouted. But everyone rushed around grabbing more supplies.

“You can peek out the rivet holes. When no one’s around,” Scarlett added sternly.

Jeez! She had forgotten the cloth diapers and pins. She ran back onto the bus. Unfortunately, her cart was completely full along with everyone else’s. She’d have to put them in the front basket, where she had planned to carry her pack. Well, she would wear her backpack like the good old days. Mindy, Justin, and Ella would thank her when the inevitable came.

“People, let’s go,” Luther blasted. “Getting one of those funky vibes.”

“Wait, I forgot the tent.” Justin ran back onto the bus. “I’ll catch up with you guys.”

“Why don’t you gals start headin’ northwest across the grasslands. Toward that windmill off in the distance,” Dean clarified. “I want to get as far away from this bus as we can before dark.”

Had Dean channeled the pop-up vendor’s warning about avoiding the main road into Tent City? She supposed it made the most sense. As long as someone knew where they were going. All she saw was a vast plain of dried grasses stretching into the horizon.

“Here we go,” Scarlett said to Twila. She pushed the cart through the field. Not bad. The tires kept good traction. Although it was difficult to turn with all the weight.

Surprisingly, Ella kept the pace, and Mindy followed. She turned around to see Luther close behind while Dean waited for Justin. It seemed impossible—walking to Tent City. She thought back to those long