The Walking Dead: Invasion by Robert Kirkman Read Free Book Online

jabs a thumb at the battered SUV behind him. “Now all that’s left of the Pentecostal People of God is them two good old boys in there … along with a real nice lady from a church up to Jasper.”
    â€œUh-huh.” Father Murphy scratches his chin. He knows what’s coming and he doesn’t like it one bit. It doesn’t feel right. “What can we help you with? We got a little extra biodiesel, if that would be something you’d be interested in. Maybe some bottled water?”
    The big preacher pours on the charm. “That’s mighty kind of you. These are difficult times. Them walkers out there are often the least of our problems. You gotta be real careful. I wouldn’t expect you to just take in any old stray you find along the road.” His expansive expression softens, his eyes filling with sadness and humility. “Father, we are good, hardworking, God-fearing people who need a place of refuge … need medical treatment, food, and the safety of fellowship. Never occurred to us that solace might be found in a moving target like the one you got here.”
    The daylight has dawned enough now for Father Murphy to clearly see the young men and the woman hunkered in the Escalade, nervously waiting. The priest swallows, licks his dry, chapped lips. “I’m gonna ask if the folks in the Caddy could maybe go ahead and show their hands.”
    The preacher turns and gives them a nod. One by one, the people in the SUV hold up their hands, revealing that they are unarmed.
    The priest nods. “I appreciate that. Now may I ask the number and type of weapons you might be carrying?”
    The preacher grins. “It ain’t much. Got a couple of nines and a shotgun. Lady’s got a snubby. Not much left over in the way of ammo, I’m afraid.”
    Father Murphy nods and starts to say, “Fair enough, and now if I might ask you to—”
    Out of nowhere, a number of unexpected noises and quick movements in the priest’s peripheral vision interrupt his spiel and make him flinch as though a bomb has just gone off. A figure from behind him approaches at a dead run, arms pumping excitedly, voice caterwauling: “FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, IT’S HER, I TOLD THEM IT WAS HER—I JUST KNEW IT—!!”
    The young African-American boy in the flopping braids and ragged hoodie charges toward Jeremiah’s Escalade. The preacher jerks back, reaching for his knife, taken completely by surprise.
    â€œIt’s okay, he’s one of ours!” Father Murphy calls out, shooting his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “It’s all right, he’s harmless!”
    Behind Jeremiah, the SUV’s side door bursts open, and Norma Sutters struggles out. Her face aglow with emotion, her eyes wet as she spots the kid, she opens her plump arms. “I’ll be damned if you ain’t a sight!”
    The young man plunges into Norma’s softness and musky odors.
    â€œI thought you was dead for sure,” he murmurs, his face pressed into the crook of her neck. The woman hugs him back, stroking his head with maternal tenderness. The young man begins to softly weep.
    Norma shushes him and strokes him and mutters soothing words. “I ain’t dead yet, child.… Still in one piece, still the cranky-ass old bitch you left in Jasper.”
    The young man sobs into her neck. “I missed you so damn much, I thought of going back, but I didn’t, but I should have, I’m a chickenshit, that’s all, too scared, too proud, and you said I’d be back with my tail between my legs, I just … I just didn’t…”
    Norma shushes him and strokes his braided hair. “That’s enough now, everything’s gonna be okay, that’s enough now, child.” She glances over at Jeremiah. She gives the preacher a furtive look. “What’s the deal, Preacher Man? We stayin’ with these folks or