Read Online The Undead World (Book 5): The Apocalypse Renegades by Peter Meredith - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Peter Meredith
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
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hiding until we can come up with a real plan or until the heat blows over. Unless, of course, anyone…anyone other than Jillybean, that is, has a workable idea.”
Hiding seemed to offer the safest route and most everyone began nodding along with each other, forming a consensus of sheep. Only Marybeth Gates disagreed. She spoke through clenched teeth, “You shouldn’t be so quick to disregard her input. She’s a genius or a prodigy or whatever.”
“Yes,” Fred agreed, “however she is also immature and she’s letting her heart dictate to her brain. It’s clear she loves her friends and it’s also clear that she will risk all of our lives to save theirs.”
There was a silence after the statement, one that even Jillybean didn’t break; the truth of what Fred had said had made her numb all over. Ipes raised a soft eyebrow. He’s right, but of course I’ve been saying the same thing for days now .
“Oh shush,” Jillybean warned, under her breath.
Fred seemed pleased as the quiet drew out; his smile grew as it went on. “So I guess, since there aren’t any more suggestions, we should stay put and weather the storm, so to speak.”
Most shrugged or nodded slightly, agreeing, yet one man stood and cleared his throat timidly, and like Jillybean, he raised a hand to be recognized.
The smile on Fred’s face dimmed in brightness at the sight of it. “Yes?”
“I’m with the girl,” he announced. “We should leave, and as soon as possible.”
“Who are you?” Fred demanded. Jillybean didn’t recognize him either. He was of average height, pale, with no chin whatsoever; it was like the skin beneath his lip just dribbled down towards his Adam’s apple.
He’s not with the people from the Floating Island , Ipes said.
“And he wasn’t one of the prisoners, me and Neil rescued,” Jillybean added. The only group left was made up of the ex-whores of the Colonel’s and it went without saying that he wasn’t one of them.
“My name is Ernest. I’m new,” the stranger said. He gestured to the person next to him, one of the ex-prisoners: a sallow-faced man with dark eyes named Travis Dunn. “Travis, here will vouch for me.”
Travis nodded his head and then half stood. “Yeah, Ernie’s a good guy. We came across him yesterday when we were scrounging on the east side of the base.”
Fred Trigg came to stand over Ernest. He squinted down at him, suspiciously. “How do we know he’s legit? For all we know he’s one of the River King’s hunters.”
Travis had already sat down but in order to answer he went back to his half-crouch. “No way. Look at his gun. It’s a freaking .22 for Christ’s sake. Ain’t no hunter or slaver gonna use no .22. Besides he was alone.”
“Did you check his stuff for a walkie-talkie?” Fred asked. “He could have friends nearby.”
Travis started to hem and haw without actually answering, and it was up to another of the ex-prisoners to admit, “No. He seemed pretty legit so we didn’t bother.”
“Then we should check it now,” Fred declared.
Ernest gave a slope-shouldered shrug and then lifted his pack from the floor and set it on the table in front of him for all to see. “I don’t have anything to hide,” he said. “I was heading west out of Ohio and was looking for a way to cross the Mississippi when I met Travis and his friends. Really, I didn’t know anything about your problems with the River King until they told me. Personally, I think you should hightail it east, you know, maybe head out to Virginia or Georgia. That makes sense to me.” After all the problems they’d had there, the word ‘Georgia’ was taboo among the group and a whispering commenced that Ernest caught. “Okay maybe not Georgia.”
Fred scoffed, “Of course not Georgia.” On his own authority, he poked around in Ernest’s backpack; after a few minutes of ineffectual pawing he dumped out the contents. In the pile there were some extra clothes and some odds and
Hiding seemed to offer the safest route and most everyone began nodding along with each other, forming a consensus of sheep. Only Marybeth Gates disagreed. She spoke through clenched teeth, “You shouldn’t be so quick to disregard her input. She’s a genius or a prodigy or whatever.”
“Yes,” Fred agreed, “however she is also immature and she’s letting her heart dictate to her brain. It’s clear she loves her friends and it’s also clear that she will risk all of our lives to save theirs.”
There was a silence after the statement, one that even Jillybean didn’t break; the truth of what Fred had said had made her numb all over. Ipes raised a soft eyebrow. He’s right, but of course I’ve been saying the same thing for days now .
“Oh shush,” Jillybean warned, under her breath.
Fred seemed pleased as the quiet drew out; his smile grew as it went on. “So I guess, since there aren’t any more suggestions, we should stay put and weather the storm, so to speak.”
Most shrugged or nodded slightly, agreeing, yet one man stood and cleared his throat timidly, and like Jillybean, he raised a hand to be recognized.
The smile on Fred’s face dimmed in brightness at the sight of it. “Yes?”
“I’m with the girl,” he announced. “We should leave, and as soon as possible.”
“Who are you?” Fred demanded. Jillybean didn’t recognize him either. He was of average height, pale, with no chin whatsoever; it was like the skin beneath his lip just dribbled down towards his Adam’s apple.
He’s not with the people from the Floating Island , Ipes said.
“And he wasn’t one of the prisoners, me and Neil rescued,” Jillybean added. The only group left was made up of the ex-whores of the Colonel’s and it went without saying that he wasn’t one of them.
“My name is Ernest. I’m new,” the stranger said. He gestured to the person next to him, one of the ex-prisoners: a sallow-faced man with dark eyes named Travis Dunn. “Travis, here will vouch for me.”
Travis nodded his head and then half stood. “Yeah, Ernie’s a good guy. We came across him yesterday when we were scrounging on the east side of the base.”
Fred Trigg came to stand over Ernest. He squinted down at him, suspiciously. “How do we know he’s legit? For all we know he’s one of the River King’s hunters.”
Travis had already sat down but in order to answer he went back to his half-crouch. “No way. Look at his gun. It’s a freaking .22 for Christ’s sake. Ain’t no hunter or slaver gonna use no .22. Besides he was alone.”
“Did you check his stuff for a walkie-talkie?” Fred asked. “He could have friends nearby.”
Travis started to hem and haw without actually answering, and it was up to another of the ex-prisoners to admit, “No. He seemed pretty legit so we didn’t bother.”
“Then we should check it now,” Fred declared.
Ernest gave a slope-shouldered shrug and then lifted his pack from the floor and set it on the table in front of him for all to see. “I don’t have anything to hide,” he said. “I was heading west out of Ohio and was looking for a way to cross the Mississippi when I met Travis and his friends. Really, I didn’t know anything about your problems with the River King until they told me. Personally, I think you should hightail it east, you know, maybe head out to Virginia or Georgia. That makes sense to me.” After all the problems they’d had there, the word ‘Georgia’ was taboo among the group and a whispering commenced that Ernest caught. “Okay maybe not Georgia.”
Fred scoffed, “Of course not Georgia.” On his own authority, he poked around in Ernest’s backpack; after a few minutes of ineffectual pawing he dumped out the contents. In the pile there were some extra clothes and some odds and
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