Only The Dead Don't Die by A.D. Popovich Read Free Book Online Page A

irrational feeling she felt, the feeling of fear. She spotted a shed nestled amongst two overgrown mimosa trees in the far back corner of the yard. Naturally, a fancy tool shed to go with this fancy backyard . She tapped on the door, “Please don’t be locked,” she whispered, trying the doorknob. It opened. “Yes!” she exclaimed.
    Once inside, Scarlett realized it wasn’t a storage shed but rather a “man cave.” Wow, Kevin would love this . It was an awesome man cave with a flat screen TV mounted on the wall, a DVD player, not one, but two gaming systems, a mini frig, microwave, and a recliner. It was even equipped with a mini-bathroom. It had everything a person could possibly want except a phone and electricity.
    Guess I’m stuck here till morning. It was almost dark, and there was absolutely no flippin’ way she’d attempt to find her way home in the dark, without a car with all those, those . . . creepy people stalking the streets. Creepy, that was the first word that came to mind when she thought of those poor, injured people. Creepers . She locked the door. It wasn’t a very secure lock or door for that matter. Still, if the deranged plane crash victims didn’t know she was inside, she’d be safe. Right?
    “Oh, shit! My purse . . . keys?” She had left them in the car. “Idiot,” she whispered in disgust. Scarlett carefully, quietly, timidly, searched the shed for anything that might be useful. She checked out a tall, metal cabinet full of sporting equipment. Nothing here . She closed the door and opened it again, reaching for the reddish-orange baseball bat that had caught her eye. It appeared to be made of some sort of metal. She snatched it, thinking it could do a lot of damage if needed. Surely it wouldn’t get to that. Maybe I’m still hallucinating from those painkillers. Am I just dreaming this? In any case, she practiced swinging the Easton bat to get a feel for it. It would just have to do since it was the only thing around that could be used as a weapon.
    S he snatched a big flashlight off a shelf; the batteries even worked. Every few minutes she stole a quick glance out of the small window for any signs of movement in the backyard. After rummaging through a cabinet, she managed to scrounge a can of Spanish peanuts, a can of Pringles, and several bottles of Vitamin Water. “Voila, dinner.”
    Scarlett quietly parked herself in the recliner; her body practically melted into the leather as both she and her muscles collapsed from sheer exhaustion and stress. She sat facing the door with the Easton bat beside her. Ready. What would she do if they suddenly busted down the door?
    So, she sat there in dead silence, staring at the door. Every tiny sound made her jump. A guttural sound nearly sent her flying out of the recliner and through the roof. Are they in the backyard now? She heard something bump into the shed, like the sound of a tree branch brushing against the wall. Just the tree , she promised. She wanted to peek out the window, but her legs refused to move.
    Scarlett nervously munched on the peanuts, mainly to distract her jumpy nerves and drank a bottle of Vitamin Water for the electrolytes. It was dark now; she didn’t dare turn on the flashlight, for the window was only covered with a sheer curtain. Her eyes gradually became accustomed to the darkness, and she vowed to stay awake all night.
    ***
    Scarlett woke up with a start. It took her a moment to realize where she was. And her heart pounded defiantly against her chest then jumped to her throat. Finally, she gasped and had to choke back the bursts of air that wanted to escape her lungs. Now was not the time to have a panic attack. Now was not the time to start hyperventilating.
    She took a moment to calm herself and focused on her breathing, breathing slowly, calmly. A noise? Just the tree, right? Panic threatened to take over again, but she pushed it back. She stared so hard at the door handle that it would have turned if she