District: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse by Shawn Chesser Read Free Book Online Page B

out.”
    “You made him your fuckin’ pet?”
    “Early warning system is more like it. The simple fact that
he’s still standing likely means nobody’s driven this road since I did last.”
    Oliver recoiled from his window as the wing mirror came into
contact with the zombie’s left hand. The solid thud was still resonating
through the door when the keen of fingernails raking sheet metal started up.
Disgusted, he asked, “What’d you do, stake its foot to the ground?”
    “Not quite,” Daymon answered with a soft chuckle. “I
tethered the Z to a stake. Rope’s around his waist. Reaaaall tight. He isn’t
going anywhere without help.”
    Warily eyeing the rotting cadaver’s shrinking reflection in
the side mirror, Oliver said, “You’re one sick individual.”
    “Sick is in the mind of the beholder, my friend.”
    After a short right-hand bend, a basketball standard and
garishly painted basketball court came into view. As the sports court slid by
on Daymon’s side, a three-story house filled up the entire windshield. It was
all wood and stone and framed by the naked boughs of a picket of mature trees
planted long ago. Where the drive spilled to a large circular parking pad, the
Bear Mountain Range was visible rising up behind the house.
    Oliver whistled. “Looks like this McMansion missed the left
turn to Aspen.”
    “Exactly,” Daymon said, smiling. “Reminds me of the houses
back in Jackson Hole. And that pad there”—he wheeled the truck right and pointed
left at a long rectangular area of poured concrete. It was newer, stark white,
and stood out from the rest—“is where I found the Winnebago me and Heidi call
home. Believe it or not, it was gassed up and ready to go.”
    “Judging by that cow pasture gate at the road, you’d never
know the drive would lead to a house of this caliber.”
    “Or any house for that matter,” Daymon proffered. “And I
want to keep it looking that way.” He steered the pickup in a big
counterclockwise loop and parked it on the herringbone pavers underneath the
covered entry adjacent to the front door. “Because one day when the effin dead
actually start dying off this will be mine and Heidi’s retirement home.”
    Oliver walked his gaze over the home. It was constructed of
wood beams secured with rugged-looking rubbed-bronze iron bands. The roof and
gutters were black steel and contrasted nicely with the pale gray stonework
running up both sides of the huge wood and iron front door. Numerous gables
jutted up through the multi-faceted roof. The windows on each floor were
flanked by legitimate storm shutters. Constructed from what looked like
louvered steel and mounted to the home on sturdy-looking hinges, the black
slabs made the mini mansion look damn formidable from any angle.
    After a pregnant pause, Oliver asked, “Whose place is it and
where are they? I never heard any of the usual rumors that hit the wire when
new money comes putting roots down around here. At least my mom didn’t mention
it. Which is not like her at all.”
    “There was nobody home when I was here last,” Daymon said. “Looks
like it has been shut up since before the shit hit the fan. The junk mail in
the recycling bin inside was postmarked well before summer.”
    “Maybe this was their winter retreat.”
    “Couldn’t think of a better place to store the RV. It’s a
pretty easy drive to Yellowstone and Grand Teton from here. Both are very
beautiful year round. Plus, there’s a trailer and four new snowmobiles in the
garage.”
    Oliver craned around. “Where is the garage?”
    “That’s the best part of the place. It’s out back and full
to the brim with toys . Hell, I felt bad leaving the spare 4Runner parked
in there with all those big dollar rides.” Daymon killed the motor. Grabbing
his AR from the backseat, he asked, “Coming or staying?”
    Oliver hesitated.
    “Because we’ve got to get back to the compound before hooking
up with the others, It’ll just be a quick in