Dead Highways (Book 3): Discord by Richard Brown Read Free Book Online Page A

to be, nor capable of succeeding at the infallible leader position we’d selfishly assigned him. He was human, and like any human, he would eventually crack under enough pressure. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon, and then what would we do?
    “I don’t know about this,” Ted said, shaking his head. “We might be sneaking by after all. We could keep going farther west and see if we can find a better spot. Of course we’ll have to abandon these carts.”
    “Let’s wait a bit longer,” Robinson said.
    “Maybe we should go back and look for my dad,” Naima suggested.
    No one rushed to respond to her request. I think we were all thinking the same thing. If her father were alive, something would have happened by now. Aamod wasn’t the quiet type, meaning the silence could mean only one thing.
    “I didn’t like this plan from the beginning,” Ted said. “We shouldn’t have left him, no matter how much he insisted. We should’ve stuck together. We could have figured out another way around.” He looked directly at Naima and relayed the exact thought circling through my head. “I’m sorry Naima, but it seems like your father went on a suicide mission, far as I can tell.”
    I don’t believe Naima was surprised by this idea, as I suspected deep down she knew this herself the minute her father suggested the diversion strategy. But hearing someone else confirm her worst fear was more than she could handle. She began to break down, tears running from her eyes. Peaches comforted her by softly rubbing her back.
    Ted, always the brave one, or perhaps a bit sorry for being so blunt, started to stand up. “I’ll go back on foot and see if I can find him.”
    Before any of us could respond, Ted was back on the ground, this time flat on his stomach. “Get down now,” he whispered with a dreadful sense of urgency.
    As usual, we did exactly as he said. We hit the deck, lay face first in the grass next to the golf carts. I slowly turned my head and glanced down Dublin Street. Coming our way, walking north toward Claiborne were three zombies, all full-grown adults. The first of the pack was roughly fifty yards away. The other two tagged not far behind.
    Everyone saw, but no one spoke a word. We all knew the plan as if by pure instinct.
    We’d play dead. Hope they pass without noticing us.
    Moments later, the leader of the pack dragged itself by our spot on the grass near the sidewalk. He didn’t see us. He didn’t smell us. We were invisible to him. Two more to go and we’d be in the clear, at least for a time. I didn’t see any more coming up Dublin behind them.
    It might sound strange, but lying there in the grass was the most relaxed I’d felt all day. I didn’t even care that I had likely invaded some poor insect’s space and he’d probably soon explore his way up my pant leg and into my nether regions. It was just nice to lie still for a moment—to stop and breathe slow and not be in a hurry to get somewhere.
    I felt almost as if I were floating.
    I took it in. I embraced it.
    My eyes gently fell closed.
    They popped back open when I heard the first gunshot.

Chapter 89
     
    The shotgun blast was supposed to be our sign to get moving, yet none of us moved a muscle. We stayed still against the ground, heads resting in the damp late morning grass, keeping quiet. We had to be smart. Careful. We’d only have one shot at this, only one chance to cross Claiborne without turning into food for the large hungry horde heading west.
    Patience, grasshopper.
    Two more gunshots, fired off in quick succession. I cursed myself for flinching a bit with each shot, though our dead friends nearby didn’t seem to notice.
    The first of the displaced zombies stood five yards in front of us. Drawn by the loud sound, he turned on wobbly legs and began walking east through the park. The second, following his lead, passed mere inches in front of us, not looking down, groaning with anxious excitement to find out what was going on