Dead Highways (Book 3): Discord (4 page)

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Authors: Richard Brown

Tags: #Zombies

BOOK: Dead Highways (Book 3): Discord
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Chapter 87

 

We rounded the corner and waved the rest of the group over.

“Sup?” Bowser said, limping up.

“We’re gonna take these golf carts,” Robinson replied. “Ted found the keys.”

“For real?”

Robinson nodded. “Be good to give your bum leg some rest, huh?”

Aamod passed us by to go inspect our new rides. He looked like he’d never seen one before. They were a lot different from his old Toyota, though if he objected to taking the electric carts, he certainly would have said something. Aamod wasn’t one to keep his feelings all bottled up inside.

Speaking of keeping feelings all bottled up inside…

I nestled up next to Peaches. The pouty look on her face had cleared a bit.

“Are you gonna ride with me?” she asked.

“Ride with you? You don’t want me to—”

“I want to drive,” she said. “Is that okay?”

Nooooooooo, it’s not okay,
I wanted to say.
I’m driving.

Instead, I said, “I guess.”

“It’s just...what if something comes up on us? You’re a much better shot than me.”

I wasn’t a very good shot, actually, but I appreciated her attempt at sucking up. Better than the silent treatment. I was slowly starting to realize how good women were at getting their way, though the thought of blasting zombies from the passenger seat of a golf cart did have a certain appeal to it.

“Maybe we could take turns?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll even let you drive first.”

Catch that? She’d
let
me drive first. She had me wrapped up like a Christmas present with a cute little pink bow on top. And what would I do about it? Not a damn thing. The power of the pussy is a real thing, folks, and I hadn’t really even gotten any yet. Just touched.

Ted counted heads and then started passing out keys. “Check the number on the key tag and match it with the correct cart. Hopefully they have enough charge left.”

There were seven of us. Naima would ride with her dad. Bowser with Robinson. Peaches with me. And out in front, Ted would ride solo leading the way in his own cart.

As Bowser climbed into the passenger seat of cart number six, I wished him good luck. He gave me a distrustful stare, confused as to why I would say that to him. He’d need all the good luck he could get with Robinson hauling him around.

The number on my key tag was lucky number thirteen. I found my cart, put my bag in the holding area where people would normally store their clubs, and then got into the driver’s seat. Peaches put her bag in the back beside mine.

“Come on,” I said. “Get out of my dreams and get into my cart.”

Peaches squeezed in next to me. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

I slipped the key into the ignition. “How could you tell?”

Everyone was in their carts now. From the front of the line Ted said, “Check your battery levels.”

The battery indicator on number thirteen had all the bars full.

“Everyone good to go?”

“Looks good,” Robinson replied.

“How far can one of these things go on a charge?” Aamod asked.

“No idea,” Ted said, starting us off. “Guess we’ll see.”

I figured out quickly that you didn’t have to press down hard on the accelerator to get moving. The little white cart had some pep to it, and was deceptively quiet. As we rode farther down the course, I also realized why we had seen so few infected. The golf course hugged a lagoon that ran along the far east side, and water was not a friend to the dead. They knew to avoid it. Ted’s idea to take the golf course north had been a smart one. Safe and easy. And driving a golf cart was more fun than it had any right to be.

After passing a second smaller pond in the center, we cut west through some trees and merged onto a paved park trail. Ted motioned for us to stop when we reached a circular courtyard area at the end of the golf course. I pulled my cart up next to him and hit the brakes.

“Gotta check the map,” Ted said.

Peaches nudged me. “Can I drive now?”

“What? Why? I’ve only been driving for a couple of minutes.”

“It’s not a competition, Jimmy.”

“I know that.”

She gazed at me with agitated eyes. “Look at the road up ahead.”

Dozens of zombies passed us by on the street directly north of the courtyard. Their presence was most likely why Ted wanted to check the map. Bad idea to just plow forward without thought and wind up trapped down a “dead” end. The electric carts batteries wouldn’t last forever. The less backtracking the better.

“We’ll be okay,” I said, turning my attention back to Peaches and her cold stare. “You don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust
me.
I think we can both drive a stupid golf cart…but you’re better at shooting guns than me.”

“Hey, don’t call my golf cart stupid, and I’m not really that accurate with my gun yet. I’m getting better, sure, but you act like I’m Ted or something. He’s got years of experience on me, and a larger gun.”

Nearby, Robinson and Bowser were engaged in a similar conversation, only with more cursing and less sexual innuendo.

“My leg is fine,” Bowser said. “Don’t worry about it. I can press on a damn peddle. And I can certainly steer this ride better than you.”

“The fuck you can. You keep saying not to worry about you. But I saw you struggling. You gonna tell me that was your pimp limp.”

“Nigga, what about your shoulder? The bullet just grazed my knee.”

“My shoulder is fine,” Robinson replied matter-of-factly.

“Right, right. That’s why you’re still wearing that sling, huh…cause everything aight?”

“Yep.”

“Get out of the way and let me drive. This one handed mess of yours is gonna get us in deep shit.”

“Feel free to go ride with Ted if you don’t trust me.”

“I could, but that ain’t gonna help you much.”

“It’s sweet that you’re concerned about me. But one more word and I’ll put the cuffs on you.”

Bowser busted out laughing. “Oh my Lord. Here we go with the cop shit again.”

“I’ll do it. I will.”

“I’d like to see you try. I really would.”

Okay, I was mistaken. There was plenty of sexual innuendo.

Peaches corralled my attention back by nudging me again. She wasn’t through with me yet. Unlike Bowser, she didn’t give up so easily, and she had magical lady parts.

“Are you gonna let me drive now or what? We’re about to get moving again.”

In the cart next to us, Ted had finished planning our route and was once again trying to figure out how to refold the map. “Everyone about ready?” he asked. “I think I know the shortest way to Dixon, course that doesn’t mean we won’t run into problems.”

“Could pick up some followers along the way,” Robinson added.

“If we do, just keep on going. These carts should be faster than most of the infected. But use your weapons if you have to.”

Ted just made Aamod the happiest man in the world.

“Don’t ignore me, Jimmy,” Peaches scowled.

She was on to me. I
was
ignoring her.

Not that I thought it would actually work.

“Trade spots with me,” she continued. “Don’t be an idiot.”

Me, an idiot? Pfft.

I wanted to growl at her like a lion.

Grrrrrrrr!

Stop trying to boss me around, pussycat. I’m a fucking lion. I’m the king of the jungle. I’m Simba.

Grrrrrrrr!

But I didn’t growl at her because I knew she was right—that and I had more in common with a farm animal than a lion. It was true that while I didn’t have the gun skills of Ted or even Robinson (I was more like Harry from Dumb and Dumber), I was better than her.

My big claim to fame.

I was a better shot with a gun than a woman who used to trade blowjobs for cash money.

I’d take it.

I grudgingly switched places with Peaches. In the passenger seat, I took out Sally and made sure she still loved me. It had been at least a week since she’d gotten any action. She always let me be in command, my Sally, never talked back or had a bad word to say about me. The perfect woman.

We got moving again, leaving the golf course once and for all. Ted led us out into the street, west down St. Charles Avenue. Abandoned cars cluttered both sides of the street, giving us tough passage. Fortunately, the median contained an old streetcar railway. Even better, the police had blocked all traffic from crossing to the opposite side of the street, leaving our path wide open for many blocks.

Not so surprisingly, the infected also found the train tracks better for travel. For her part, Peaches did a great job maneuvering around the dead. Because they were heading the same direction as us, most didn’t see us coming until it was too late—until we were many yards in front of them. They’d moan and trudge forward faster but not near fast enough to catch up to us.

Despite following on Robinson’s bumper, which was risky enough, I was most worried about Aamod and Naima behind us. I kept looking back, making sure they were okay. Naima didn’t have any way to defend them if some renegade zombie should grab hold of their cart. Her father was more than willing to drive and shoot, a pump shotgun no less, if it came down to it. So far, the shotgun remained down by his waist, but still I sat nervously in the cart in front of them, glancing back every few seconds, expecting to hear the deafening sound of his shotgun crack apart the quiet morning air.

We rode the train tracks down to South Carrollton Avenue and then continued following the tracks north. Very few infected chose to follow us. Carrollton was even more packed than St. Charles, but the median was just as clear. The police most likely wanted to keep the tracks unobstructed for quick transport of people or supplies during the first days of the outbreak.

About a mile and a half later, we came to an abrupt stop at a major intersection where Carrollton met Claiborne Avenue. It was the end of the line for the train tracks. We stopped under an awning where people used to sit and wait in the shade for the next streetcar to stop. Today the benches were empty, but the highway in front of us was anything but. Parked cars everywhere, bumper to bumper, including in the middle of the intersection.

Ted hopped out of his cart and started talking to Robinson and Bowser. After a moment, I joined them.

“We gotta find another way,” Robinson said. “We’ll never make it. We’ve been lucky so far. But…just look at that. It’s not like we can just drive through them.”

Them.

Zombies. Hundreds. Navigating through the crowd of cars west down Claiborne.

“We might have to ditch the carts,” Ted said. “Find a way to sneak by.”

Robinson shook his head. “You sure there’s not another way.”

“In order to get to Dixon we have to cross this Claiborne, unless you want to backtrack and take the long way around. And I’m talking hours, not minutes. And even then, there’s no guarantee we don’t run into worse conditions somewhere else. Forget that these carts won’t last that long anyway. I can check the map again if you like. But the map can only help us determine the shortest route, not the safest.”

“Go. Check again,” Robinson insisted.

“Fine,” Ted said, sauntering back to his cart.

Aamod took Ted’s place at the side of Robinson’s cart. He had his shotgun resting against his right shoulder. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Why have we stopped?”

“Why do you think genius?” Bowser said, smirking. “You blind?”

“I see. But did you expect this to be easy? Find a lane through and let me take care of them.”

“Ted is gonna try and find a better way,” Robinson said. “Be patient.”

Aamod headed off to the left, slipping between cars as he crossed to the corner of Carrollton. Peaches and Naima both joined the gathering at Robinson’s cart right as Aamod wandered off by himself.

“Well, so much for being patient,” I said.

“Daddy, where are you going?” Naima whispered.

“You stay,” her father replied.

The Indian man stopped in the grass and ducked down beside a large tree.

“The fuck is he doing,” Bowser exclaimed.

As usual, no one knew.

Ted finished consulting the map. “Nothing better,” he said. “Dixon is only about two or three miles from here. This is our best shot.”

Robinson sighed. “Dammit.”

“Sorry. If there was an easier way you know I’d be all for it. But there isn’t.”

“Two to three miles, huh. I figured we were getting close. I recognize this area.”

Aamod hustled back to the median.

Ted hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “Where’d you go?”

“Just looking around,” Aamod replied. “I found a spot I think we can get through.”

“Yeah…what about infected?”

Aamod shrugged. “Tons. But we’ll just have to clear them out.”

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