Read Online Plagued: The Ironville Zombie Quarantine Retraction Experiment (Plagued States of America Book 3) by Better Hero Army - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Better Hero Army
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wasn’t the laboratory, there was hardly any light, and the two men in the cab with her weren’t from her nightmares.
“Penny,” Tom said softly. “It’s OK. It was just a dream.”
Penelope began to shake. Tom swooped in to grab her before she fell down. It was a dream, but it was one of the terrible ones that followed her into her waking thoughts. Her hands trembled. She looked at them, expecting the flesh to be seared because of the fire of the needle, but they were fine. There was nothing except dirty skin.
“That was some nightmare,” Houston said. “Scared the piss out of me, even.”
“She’s had bad dreams before, but nothing like this,” Tom told him. He eased her into the seat again and knelt beside her, looking into her tearing eyes. “Whatever happened today with the train scared up something new.”
Penelope shook her head, making the sign for helicopter .
“The helicopter dream?” Tom asked , his eyes wide. “That was the helicopter dream?”
She nodded, then shook her head, sweeping her finger over the sign for helicopter.
“Before?” Tom asked. “The white room?”
She nodded emphatically, tears dribbling down her cheeks. It had been a long time since the memories of the white room came so vividly. The past three days had them stirring like never before. Ever since that doctor said her numbers— twenty-two , she blurted at the party, her tone one of surprise. She recognized Penelope with that same fearful apprehension Penelope harbored.
“ Ken-yen-tee,” Penelope gasped. She had trouble forming words in her throat. Everything always came out at a whisper.
“What?” Tom asked, leaning closer and putting his ear next to her mouth. The train was too loud. It drowned out her soft voice.
“Ken-yen-tee,” she said again.
“Kenyan tea? I don’t understand.”
“Doc—tor,” she gasped, pushing Tom back to show him the sign of the helicopter again.
“Kennedy! On the helicopter?”
Penelope nodded, smiling weakly, but satisfied he understood. She lifted a leg to pull down her sock and show him the tattoo. He looked at it as she tapped her fingers over the numbers.
“At the party,” Tom said. “She recognized your numbers.”
Penelope nodded.
“Do you recognize her?”
Penelope nodded.
Houston throttled back the engine. Tom and Penelope stood up and looked out the front window. Penelope expected a wall of zombies in their path, but instead she saw only the white of snow flurries rushing sideways through the headlights. The snowblower belched a column of white powder into the air, flinging it off to the right and away from the tracks. The snow being thrown arced slightly before falling over the trees and shrubs that bordered the tracks. The snow drifts they plowed through were already three or four feet high, making Penelope wonder how long she slept.
“Why are we stopping?” Tom asked.
“Shift change,” Houston said. “Go get soldier boy and have him bring me some coffee and one of those trays of Entenmann’s from the fridge. I’m going to take a leak.”
Houston led them into the belly of the engine compartment , which was not only jarringly loud, but refreshingly warm. Houston stepped into the bathroom as Tom and Penelope passed him to get to the back of the engine. Tom pushed the rear door open and they stepped across to the coach car and pushed their way inside again.
“You guys up?” Tom asked. The room was mostly dark except for a light at the far end of the coach. Tom turned on a light to find the car empty.
“Where the hell did they go?” Tom asked Penelope.
The door at the opposite end slid open and Hank stepped into the coach, slipping one arm into his jacket to put it on.
“Why’d we stop, kid?” Hank asked.
“Shift change. It’s Mason’s turn to keep Houston company.”
“That’s good. He’s been sleeping since we got on this rig.”
“Sleeping? Where?”
“The first class berths. Come on. I made a few snacks and put them
“Penny,” Tom said softly. “It’s OK. It was just a dream.”
Penelope began to shake. Tom swooped in to grab her before she fell down. It was a dream, but it was one of the terrible ones that followed her into her waking thoughts. Her hands trembled. She looked at them, expecting the flesh to be seared because of the fire of the needle, but they were fine. There was nothing except dirty skin.
“That was some nightmare,” Houston said. “Scared the piss out of me, even.”
“She’s had bad dreams before, but nothing like this,” Tom told him. He eased her into the seat again and knelt beside her, looking into her tearing eyes. “Whatever happened today with the train scared up something new.”
Penelope shook her head, making the sign for helicopter .
“The helicopter dream?” Tom asked , his eyes wide. “That was the helicopter dream?”
She nodded, then shook her head, sweeping her finger over the sign for helicopter.
“Before?” Tom asked. “The white room?”
She nodded emphatically, tears dribbling down her cheeks. It had been a long time since the memories of the white room came so vividly. The past three days had them stirring like never before. Ever since that doctor said her numbers— twenty-two , she blurted at the party, her tone one of surprise. She recognized Penelope with that same fearful apprehension Penelope harbored.
“ Ken-yen-tee,” Penelope gasped. She had trouble forming words in her throat. Everything always came out at a whisper.
“What?” Tom asked, leaning closer and putting his ear next to her mouth. The train was too loud. It drowned out her soft voice.
“Ken-yen-tee,” she said again.
“Kenyan tea? I don’t understand.”
“Doc—tor,” she gasped, pushing Tom back to show him the sign of the helicopter again.
“Kennedy! On the helicopter?”
Penelope nodded, smiling weakly, but satisfied he understood. She lifted a leg to pull down her sock and show him the tattoo. He looked at it as she tapped her fingers over the numbers.
“At the party,” Tom said. “She recognized your numbers.”
Penelope nodded.
“Do you recognize her?”
Penelope nodded.
Houston throttled back the engine. Tom and Penelope stood up and looked out the front window. Penelope expected a wall of zombies in their path, but instead she saw only the white of snow flurries rushing sideways through the headlights. The snowblower belched a column of white powder into the air, flinging it off to the right and away from the tracks. The snow being thrown arced slightly before falling over the trees and shrubs that bordered the tracks. The snow drifts they plowed through were already three or four feet high, making Penelope wonder how long she slept.
“Why are we stopping?” Tom asked.
“Shift change,” Houston said. “Go get soldier boy and have him bring me some coffee and one of those trays of Entenmann’s from the fridge. I’m going to take a leak.”
Houston led them into the belly of the engine compartment , which was not only jarringly loud, but refreshingly warm. Houston stepped into the bathroom as Tom and Penelope passed him to get to the back of the engine. Tom pushed the rear door open and they stepped across to the coach car and pushed their way inside again.
“You guys up?” Tom asked. The room was mostly dark except for a light at the far end of the coach. Tom turned on a light to find the car empty.
“Where the hell did they go?” Tom asked Penelope.
The door at the opposite end slid open and Hank stepped into the coach, slipping one arm into his jacket to put it on.
“Why’d we stop, kid?” Hank asked.
“Shift change. It’s Mason’s turn to keep Houston company.”
“That’s good. He’s been sleeping since we got on this rig.”
“Sleeping? Where?”
“The first class berths. Come on. I made a few snacks and put them
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