Dead Highways (Book 3): Discord

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Authors: Richard Brown
Tags: Zombies
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iron fence barrier that separated the street from the parking lot of a large fresh market. Before I even had a chance to try the handle on a piece of crap Dodge Neon, a silver-colored SUV screeched around the corner on the other side of the lot, its backend fishtailing, and started coming my way.
    I froze.
    My first thought was what the fuck?
    Then…
    Who the fuck?
    I bent down beside the Neon, used it for cover against the out of control vehicle barreling my way. It sped past me without even a courtesy tap on the brake, throwing dust in my face. The SUV slid out into the street, its suspension bouncing along, and came to a hard stop a few feet in front of the gang. They had just finished loading Bowser into the cart.
    The door opened and Aamod jumped out of the SUV.
    “Daddy!” Naima ran up to him and into his arms. “You’re alive!”
    It was the most energy I’d seen her display since that zombie tripped over her. Maybe she wouldn’t get sick, die, and become one of those things after all. Maybe she’d be okay, like her father, a man she was no doubt shocked to see alive. I’m sure everyone in the group shared that feeling.
    I know I did.

Chapter 91
     
    The SUV had three rows of seats. Aamod drove, with his daughter sitting next to him, while Robinson and Bowser occupied the middle row. I sat in the last row between Ted and Peaches. In the rush to get the hell out of there—to narrowly escape the rotting clutches of a hundred dead—I jumped into the SUV having totally forgotten about my bug-out bag sitting in the golf cart’s storage compartment. Ted, as was his usual way, bailed my ass out. Now I had my backpack open on my lap, reloading Sally’s empty magazines. Freckle face, to my right, was doing the same with his empties.
    “Should I keep going north?” Aamod asked, peeking in the rear view mirror.
    “Yes. Keep heading north for now,” Robinson replied.
    There were cars parked along the side of Dublin Street, even a rare few beaters left in the middle, but nothing Aamod couldn’t maneuver around. He drove slow and careful, quite the contrast to just moments before when the threat was much greater. I noticed only three or four undead walking alongside the road or passing between homes. They seemed to wander about aimlessly, without purpose, as though they’d once been a part of a larger group and had become lost. Eventually they’d probably happen upon one of the major highways and rejoin the million-man parade still migrating west.
    Peaches had her head turned toward the window, looking out solemnly. I put my hand on her arm but she didn’t acknowledge me.
    I leaned into her. “Hey…you okay?”
    She nodded. Kept her head turned away.
    I wondered if she was crying again and didn’t want me to see. Was I in the doghouse? I couldn’t remember doing anything specific that would have set her into this most recent funk. All morning she’d sort of drifted in and out of it, beginning on the dock with the argument over what to do with Olivia, and I was sure she was still feeling the aftershock of that decision. When she was ready to talk about it, assuming she didn’t just keep her feelings bottled up inside, I’d be there for her. Squeezed in an SUV with five other people after we’d almost been killed was definitely not the right time.
    I finished loading Sally’s magazines, popped one into her bottom side, and stuffed the spare back into my bag. Ted was still going strong, continuing the slow and tedious process, pressing each round in one at a time. He had quite a few more magazines to load than me.
    “Need any help?” I asked.
    Ted smiled, letting me know he appreciated the offer. “No, that’s okay.”
    I really couldn’t blame him if he didn’t trust me, even though he was the one who had trained me. He was protective over his gear, not in the sense that he wouldn’t let you borrow it, but in that if he had to depend upon a weapon for his own protection, he wanted to load

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