Red Hill by Jamie McGuire Read Free Book Online

that the gas tank wasn’t close to being empty. Mrs. Sisney was still consuming the meat of Drew’s neck and the others were slowly gnawing on Drew’s now lifeless body. He definitely wouldn’t need his Jeep again, I thought as I ripped out of the parking lot.
    Speed limits and red lights were irrelevant. I glanced from one side to the other at each intersection, and then blew through them until I reached the main road out of town. Surely most people would head for the interstate, I thought, but I was wrong. Wrecks peppered the old two-lane highway toward Kelly­ville.
    I kept the gas pedal pressed against the floorboard, trying to stay away from traffic jams and buy myself some time to think of what I should do. People, alive and dead, were running around. Gunshots could be heard from all parts of town as people shot reanimated corpses from their vehicles and porches.
    A blinking sign signaled that I was entering a school zone. My stomach instantly felt sick. The children had been picked up more than an hour ago, thank God, but mine were so far away. If the pandemic had spread so quickly, the girls were probably terrified and running, too.
    I had to get to them. My fingers tightened around the steering wheel. If it was the end of the world, I wanted to be holding my babies.
    I turned up the volume on the radio, hoping for some clue about how to get out of town and to my children. Instead of reporting safety procedures or anything else helpful, the DJs were struggling to remain professional while one gruesome report after another came in about people being attacked, car accidents, and mayhem.
    The one thing they weren’t talking about was where the pandemic had originated. If either of the coasts had been struck first, it would have given me more time . . . and time was the only chance I had.

Chapter Four
    Miranda
    â€œ WE ’ RE NOT DOING TO DIE ,” Cooper said. “Try to stay calm.”
    He had his arm wrapped around my older sister, Ashley, in the backseat, his eyes dancing as he watched the chaos surrounding my VW Bug. He leaned against Ashley when yet another person ran by and bumped the door.
    â€œDamn it!” I said, frowning. “They’re going to scratch the paint!”
    Ashley watched me in disbelief, but I couldn’t help but allow a little irrational anger to rise to the surface. My brand-new, shiny white Volkswagen barely had time to let the custom paint dry, and these assholes were rubbing up against it every time they passed.
    â€œWe’re at a standstill,” Bryce said, trying to see ahead. Bryce’s tousled brown hair grazed the fabric of the Bug’s convertible top. He’d wanted to drive his Dodge truck to my dad’s ranch, but Daddy was a fan of Ford, and I wasn’t going to listen to them discuss Rams versus F-150s all weekend. “If you let the top down, I can get a better look.”
    â€œWell that’s just stupid,” I said, my face scrunching in disgust.
    My comment pulled Bryce’s attention away from the frightened pedestrians outside. “What?”
    I pointed over his shoulder. “There is a reason they’re running. I’m not going to expose us to whatever that is.”
    Traffic had slowed down to about twenty-five miles per hour no more than ten miles after we merged onto the interstate to take our weekend road trip, and less than five miles later we were halted to zero miles per hour. That was half an hour ­before, and we still hadn’t moved. Not even when people started getting out of their cars to make a run for it.
    â€œJust drive, Miranda. Get us the hell out of here. I don’t want to know what they’re running from,” Ashley said, fidgeting with her long, wavy hair. She was beautiful like my mother: tall, thin, and delicate. Her dirty-blond hair cascaded down each shoulder, reminding me of that girl from the Blue Lagoon movie. If Ashley didn’t have a shirt