Read Online The Living Dead Series (Book 3): Dead Coast by L.I. Albemont - Free Book Online

a moment’s thought he emailed the entire file to his user account. Then he placed the small laptop in his backpack and looked out the window.
    Dawn had crept unnoticed into the sky revealing mostly clear streets. Homer’s black truck gleamed as the sun hit it reminding David he had forgotten to search Homer’s body for the keys. Reluctantly he pushed the sofa away from the wall and rolled the headless body onto its back. In a jeans pocket was a set of keys that hung from a plastic picture fob containing the images of two smiling boys, one with a cowlick and the other beaming with a gap-toothed grin. David crouched by the body, holding the keys in the palm of his hand, looking at the small pictures. Boys any father would be proud of. Boys who would never grow up.
    The dead man’s hand twitched, startling David into falling back against the wall, hitting his head and momentarily stunning him. The hand groped at the floor, only for a few seconds, then went flaccid.
    David shoved the body against the wall and pushed the sofa back in place. They couldn’t get out of here soon enough. He checked his weapon and looked out the window again. A small group stood at the bottom of the driveway, shuffling and jostling one another randomly.
    He found Bea sleeping in one of the twin beds upstairs. The morning light coming through a crack in the curtains just touched her hair, turning it to warm gold. Her cheek was smudged and he tried to wipe it away then saw her eyes open. She watched him with a look of intense concentration while he gently dabbed at her cheek before moving on to trace the outline of her lips. She closed her eyes again for a moment then sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed onto the floor. David’s hand dropped to his side.
    “What does it look like outside?” she asked.
    “Better. Fewer dead and the sun is out. It’s a lot warmer. And I have a surprise.” He jingled the keys in his hand.
    Bea looked relieved. “Do you know what vehicle they go with?”
    “Yeah, pretty sure I do.”
    “Let’s do this then.”
    The dead came for them as soon as the door opened. David was ready and knocked an emaciated woman to the ground. Bea split her skull wide with a sharp blow from her rail. There was little left of her brain other than viscous black fluid.
    Homer’s truck was unlocked and started on the first try. The gas hand was on “F” and the heater warmed up the cab in minutes. Attempts to find something on the radio produced nothing but static.
    Winding through the unfamiliar streets, it took them a while to find a way to I-71. Every time they found signs directing them to the interstate they would have to detour around pile-ups or the dead and find themselves lost again. Looted stores, glass fronts broken, were ever present reminders they were now in a post-apocalyptic world and that resources like food and water were finite and viciously fought for. When they did find an on-ramp they encountered blockages they were fortunately able to weave through. Many, many cars still contained their dead occupants, entombed within glass and steel, struggling to get out.
    Bea checked her phone but found no new messages. She sent Brian a short text telling him their approximate location and that they were going to continue to head west.
    “That might be the equivalent of a message in a bottle but I have to keep trying,” she said, putting her phone in her pocket.
    “You are nothing if not persistent. Does the thought of throwing in the towel never cross your mind?”
    “What would be the point of that? Would you give up if it were your brother?”
    “No, probably not. So where does the stubbornness come from? Your mother or your father? I’m betting it was your mom.”
    She was silent for several moments, face turned away and looking out at the fields flashing by in the sunlight. It was only when the light glinted on her cheeks that he realized she was crying.
    “Sorry, I didn’t even think before I