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

“Girly-girl, I bet my wad on you.” The man pulled the bandanna down over the top half of her eyes. Just enough . . .

Mad Dog jumped around on top of the zombie-filled cage. “Ready for zome Zoatball!”

Ella took a long, deep breath and then exhaled heavily. “I won’t freeze up. I won’t freeze up. I won’t freeze up,” she chanted softly.

She had a decent view over the top of the bandanna, thanks to the man. But couldn’t see much below. Mad Dog opened the gate from the top of the cage. Zs tumbled out onto the field. He flamboyantly tossed raw meat in her direction.

She groped the ground for the mace with zip-tied hands. There you are. Clutching the handle with both hands, she pretended like it was a bat, and practiced swinging. She tried removing the bandanna with her wrists, but the weapon was too heavy.

“Your one and only warning. Remove the blindfold—Punk Ass gets a bullet in the head!” Mad Dog snickered.

She slurred a series of curse words. The forbidden ones Papa used to say. Now she understood the power surge the words beheld. And she would harness their power.

The horde dove for the raw meat. After gorging, the Zs just sorta ambled around. She stood still as a mouse, waiting for them to see her, waiting for her burst of courage. The crowd roared and pointed in her direction. Confused, the horde lurched for the bleachers.

Mad Dog shouted obscenities at them. A chunk of meat landed near her feet. Her moment of invisibility—gone. The horde stumbled her way. Her heart trembled as much as her arms from holding the heavy mace.

Obviously, she couldn’t de-activate them all at once. It reminded her of the divide and conquer hack Justin had taught her.

Justin yelled, “Ella, run!” Poor guy, he was going to have a heart attack.

She ran to the opposite end of the field. She’d take care of the faster ones first. Thank God they weren’t X-strains. The two fastest Zs were neck and neck, tripping over each other to get to her. She planted her feet and practiced swinging the creepy mace with nails spiking out the top. Who’d think up such a gruesome weapon?

They were close enough to smell, close enough for her to see the bones protruding from their patchwork of decomposing skin. She tilted her head for a better view. One stopped to gurgle and goggle her. She had a chance. She wasn’t nimble like Justin, or powerful like Luther and Dean, or awesome like Scarlett. She was a LifeGiver, born to give lives, not take lives.

Ella whispered a string of Hail Marys and begged for the physical strength she needed. She met the fastest one head-on. Aiming for its knees. It bellowed and belly-flopped onto the field.

Seconds later, she caught the second one in the neck with her hardest swing. It stared at her with forgiving eyes. That flash of humanity lingered when its dilated pupils constricted back to normal size. She forgot they were human. Had been, she reminded. She clobbered it in the head, wincing as the splattering of blood sprinkled her. She rushed back to the first Z and finished it off.

The crowd roared louder.

She cocked her head to find the rest of the horde eagerly plodding toward her. Two down. Only ten to go. She cut diagonally across the field, opposite side of Justin. She would just de-activate two at a time, running across the field and taking care of the fastest ones. Simple.

She caught her breath while three of them stumbled for her at the same pace. Really? Three? They pounced for her. The crowd went berserk. She swung low, aiming for the knees. It disabled them enough to take care of them one by one. Some cheered. Others booed. She blocked them out, singling out Justin’s voice—cheering her on.

Five down. As the rest of the horde approached, she forced her rubbery legs across the field again. She had never been the athletic type.

“O-M-G!” A catch in her side made her come to a grinding halt. Usually, she held her side when it acted up. But she couldn’t hold her side and the heavy weapon with zip-tied hands.

As the remaining five lumbered toward her, she frantically scanned the field through the blindfold’s sliver. Is that a ham shank in the grass? She rushed to it. They had missed one in their lust for live flesh. She dropped the mace before flinging the meat at the five Zs. Two of them went in a tug-of-war battle over it. The crowd’s oohs and aahs gave her courage.

Screeching rose above the crowd. Low-flying jets streaked across the sky. Helicopters joined in. Explosions ripped at her ears. The frenzied crowd rushed for the exit. But the Zs were oblivious. They wanted her!

Supercharged, she met the fastest Z with a swing that ripped off half its face. She went back to crippling them in the knees. They crawled after her as she took care of them one by one. In her fervor, she ignored the person running toward her. Because, she could not stop. She bashed their heads. Over and over. And over.

Chapter 31

Luther Jones busted butt toward the two men who had exited through the tunnel’s free side of Zoat minutes ago. Maybe they knew where Ella and Justin were. Knowing women, Ella had needed the restroom at the last minute. That’s what he told himself.

Luther offered a friendly, “Whut up?”

The two men dropped their overloaded wheelbarrow and drew their weapons.

Luther’s arms shot up in defense. “Whoa, just looking for my friends. They were next in line.”

The men eyed each other as if debating what to say.

Their hesitation prickled at his core. Luther pressed on, “Did something happen?”

“All I know,” the younger man finally said, “is we arrived with our tokens ten