Read Online Life Among The Dead (Book 3): A Bittersweet Victory by Daniel Cotton - Free Book Online Page A

After going to town to fill their cooler with
beer and ice, they’ll settle in a new spot. One not sullied by
their human stench. He’s starting to get his bloodlust back. A sign
he’s moving on. He desperately wants to kill something
beautiful.
    Jessie emerges from the woods, followed by
the pungent smell of his business, just as Biff is packing up. The
tents have been taken down and folded up and the fire has been
doused.
    He asks, “We leaving?”
    Marko can only shake his head with dismay at
the dullard who scratches his head, seemingly confused.
    Jessie risks asking, “Then, why are we
breaking camp?”
    “I wasn’t shaking my head ‘no’, I was…” Marko
gives up. Explaining things to these two can be exasperating. It’s like they fucking share a brain . Marko groans. Just when one shows promise , the other gets stupider .
    Jessie follows Biff’s example and loads the
backs of their pickup trucks. “We heading home?”
    “No.” Marko doesn’t want to go back to their
depressing small town just yet. “You guys are going to follow me to
Worchester. We’re gonna grab some shit then set up camp around
there.”
    “Where’s that?” Biff asks. “I ain’t never
been there.”
    “That’s why you’re gonna follow me,” Marko
says. “It’s a big town near Poland Creek.”
    The cousins dutifully follow Marko’s large
black truck in their much smaller red pickup. They should know
better than to question their leader about the region. He knows
every road and town in these parts like the back of his hand.

 
2
     
    The soldier’s tells Vida he is Private First
Class Larsen, but she can call him Brad. She has been trying to
gain an understanding of the phenomenon, but he seems bent on
keeping the conversation away from the current events, the tragedy
on the bridge, and what’s in store for them once they get to Eagle
Rock. When she asked how it’s possible for the dead to rise, he
told her the truth: he hasn’t a clue.
    Her persistent questions caused him to snap
at her, but he apologized, blaming it on the stress of the day. He
seems nice, and Vida feels a lot safer being escorted by an armed
soldier. Now silence fills the open space of the jeep and is swept
out by the rushing air. He slows the vehicle whenever they do talk,
so hearing one another isn’t so much of a chore.
    “So tell me the story of your life,” he says,
wearing a serene smile, “minus the recent chapters.”
    “My name is Vida Calavera--”
    “That’s pretty. What is that?”
    “Mexican. My great grandparents came from
there. I’m a senior at Waterloo High… until last night. My parents
moved us from San Diego last spring.”
    “I’ve never been to California. I hear it’s
nice.”
    “Yeah, I love it there.” She sighs. “I don’t
think I like the cold much.”
    “It actually gets worse.” He laughs. “Wait
until the snow starts falling. They say we’re in for one hell of a
winter.”
    Vida begrudgingly moved from the southwest
and has never seen snow before aside from movies and on television.
She’s certain that she’ll grow tired of it before winter is over.
She looks out at the fields they pass, quiet once more. Thoughts of
her old life and her family have dug up fresh sorrow. She is
thankfully too exhausted to cry, having been awake for more than
twenty-four hours.
    “Do you have any hobbies?” he asks.
    “Music. I play guitar. My grandmother taught
me. I was in a band.”
    “What kind of music?”
    “Rock. My band was supposed to play some
place up north called the Flagpole…”
    “The strip club in Fallen?”
    “Yup. It would have been the Dogs of War’s
first paying gig. My first gig ever with the band actually. The guy
that owns the club said something about wanting to ‘class it up’
with some live music.”
    “It wouldn’t hurt,” Larsen says. “The place
is a real pit. The girls are cute for the most part--or so I’ve
been told.”
    She gives a small chuckle at his joke