Alaskan Undead Apocalypse (Book 4): Resolution by Sean Schubert Read Free Book Online Page A

no tracks to follow and no way
to know for certain where the stricken man could have gone.
    Not sure whether to believe the frantic cab
driver or not, the policeman looked around doubtfully. He tilted
his head and spoke into the radio attached to his uniform. There
was an exchange via radio, during which the officer glanced
repeatedly at Abdul and cocked a suspicious eyebrow.
    It wasn’t until a terrified woman’s shriek
pierced the wet air that Abdul was taken seriously. The police
officer told Abdul to stay where he was, but there was no need.
Abdul had no intention of following to watch whatever was happening
unfold. He had no curiosity about it whatsoever. He closed the
cab’s back door and sat himself down in his seat, shutting and
locking his door in the process. Still smelling his passenger’s
cologne and leather jacket, Abdul closed the divider again, hoping
to close himself off from the morning’s events. Through all of it,
Bob Marley belted out heavenly melodies that had gone unheard,
ignored, and unappreciated.
    Moments later, there were more screams and
then gunshots. Abdul checked the back seat again to ensure that it
was still empty. He felt anything but alone, like he was being
watched. From the corner of his eye, he spied the man’s wallet on
the seat this time. He thought to himself that maybe he would get
paid after all. What did a dead man need with a wallet full of
cash? He’d turn it in back at headquarters but take out his fare
first. He wouldn’t rob the man, but he would take what he was
owed.
    Thinking about headquarters, Abdul decided
it was probably a good time to check in. He hadn’t been in contact
with his dispatcher since he departed Providence on his way to
Whittier and the routine would help ground and calm him. He braced
himself to deliver his bad news about his passenger. He hadn’t done
anything wrong but he knew he’d be put through a bracing
investigation by the authorities and his employer for the death. He
wasn’t looking forward to it at all and feared that it could
threaten his continued employment. He slowly keyed in on his radio
and waited. There was nothing other than static. He tried again and
still received no response. He picked up his cell phone and dialed
the number for the office. Immediately, a soothing female voice
answered and told him that the network was down and to try his call
again later.
    With his hopes of getting away quickly gone,
Abdul tried to get himself comfortable with the fact that he was
stuck in Whittier for a bit. The commotion to his left was leaving
him anything but comfortable. It was getting louder by the moment,
causing his anxiety to build and grow like a kettle on a hot
stove.
    Rubbing his forehead with his sweaty palms,
Abdul wondered what he should do. He didn’t know anyone in Whittier
and, perhaps more importantly, no one in Whittier knew him. He felt
like he was on his own, but knew enough to go somewhere else.
Another bloodcurdling scream shook him from his seat and into
action.
    Running while stooped like he was dodging
bullets, Abdul got away from his car. His retreat had him pass many
other cars, some with scared drivers locking the doors and closing
their windows at the sight of the very black man running near their
cars. They didn’t know it, but the locked door would spell doom for
many of those motorists.
    Abdul cleared the fence separating the car
lot from the rest of Whittier. He found himself well away from
Whittier proper, which sat on the opposite side of the Whittier
Creek and connected by a pair of short bridges and a fairly long
stretch of the highway. Whittier was actually divided into two
large sections lying on opposite sides of a bank of railroad tracks
that bisected the town into the residential and commercial seaside
sectors of the city. Lined on both sides by barrier walls topped
with chain link fence, the wide swath of railroad tracks was like a
moat cutting its track through the center of the castle.
    On