Twila lay on the lower bunk next to the window Scarlett monitored either asleep or in deep-meditation mode. She didn’t always know which. The poor girl had lost her usual spunk since escaping the creeper-infested lodge. Depleted was the best way to describe her. This life was too harsh for a child, especially a sensitive empath.
A dark energy crept around the fringes of Scarlett’s inner vision. Something wasn’t right. The tension was so tight her attempts for deep breaths reduced to feeble gasps. Nevertheless, she refused to relinquish her internal Merkaba shield of protection.
Besides the Ancient Ones’ invasive probing, she also blocked the creepers, for they sensed her vital and yet impossible role to save humanity from total annihilation. Their kind were learning at an incredible rate—evolving into a super-species.
Her mysterious spirit guide, the Silver Lady had explained: Free from society’s social and economic pressures, constant in-fighting, and reckless ambition, creepers had tapped into their innate collective consciousness as had early mankind. The undead were learning to exploit the power of the hive mentality. Heaven forbid, if the undead collaborated on a global scale—humanity was eternally damned.
Rapid gunfire sent everyone into a frenzy.
“Where’s it coming from?” Justin jumped out of Ella’s bunk and darted from window to window.
“Gotta horde on my end!” Luther yelled from his window. Artillery blasted the plains. “Correction. Was a horde.”
“Overkill. Watch for the crawlers,” Justin said without the slightest touch of sarcasm.
“Luther, any Enforcers coming this way?” Zac asked from his window.
“Nope.” Luther sighed with obvious relief. “They took off for the big-ass house.”
Muted cries from Ella’s bunk sent Justin rushing back to her side. Ella was recovering from giving birth during last night’s hellish horde attack. It must have been harrowing. She tried sending Ella a gentle wave of peaceful energy, but Scarlett’s own angst prevented it.
“What’s on your mind?” Dean asked from his window, looking directly at Scarlett. Did he sense the paranoia strangling her?
Her delay in answering had everyone turning to her. “Something’s not right,” Scarlett finally said.
“They’re coming!” Twila bolted up from her bunk. Was she referring to creepers or Enforcers? Either way spelled trouble.
“For the record,” Dean interjected, “my gut’s twisting like one of those dirt devils back at Boom Town.”
“This isn’t a safe place!” Twila’s words fell flat onto the knotted-pine flooring.
“Yup, that’s the vibe I’m getting,” Luther confirmed.
“Okay, okay! So, what are we doing about it?” Justin chided. “I’m not gonna sit on my ass and wait for Enforcers to take our son.”
“Think it’s time we hash out our options,” Dean intoned with calm confidence. “Might want to cover every possible scenario.” They could always count on Dean to stabilize a volatile situation. Perhaps that was the special ability this new world had gifted him with. For common sense wasn’t so common these days.
Justin butted in. “Guys, guys. Don’t overthink this. Let’s just leave. Like now.” He didn’t bother keeping his voice down now that Twila, Ella, and the baby were wide awake.
“And how do you propose we do that with dead-heads and Enforcers combing the plains?” Dean shot back, irritation creeping into his voice.
“A tunnel,” Justin stated firmly.
Zac’s eyes lit up. “Where’s this tunnel?”
“Tent City has tons of smuggler tunnels,” Justin exaggerated.
Zac shook his head. “Too far to go in lockdown—”
“Since when did that stop you, Mr. Hotshot?” Justin snapped with bated breath.
“Ouch . . .” Luther drawled.
Dean flashed Justin a stern look. “The timing’s got to be right. Remember, we’ve got the little ones to think of.”
“Exactly”—Zac took over—“after the HAZMAT crew sanitizes the neutralized zombs, I’ll barter for a tank of gas from old man Stanwyck. Then, we leave . . .” He paused. “Provided the lockdown has been lifted in this Sector.”
“How many miles you reckon it is to Tent City?” Dean inquired.
“Let’s see. We’re just outside of Lubbock.” Zac tapped his upper lip. “About three hundred miles if we take the highway. Longer if we take the backroads.”
Dean pulled out the map from his back pocket. “That’s doable. We just need to get to Interstate Twenty-seven.”
“We can be there in five freakin’ hours,” Justin exulted. “We can even take the truck through the tunnel. The one I know of is super wide. Not like that wimpy one behind Boom Town.”
“And go where?” Ella huffed. “Hon, we have to think of mijo.”
“Any place is better than here,” Justin brooded aloud.
“Look, I’ll be honest,” Zac said. “Tent City’s risky. Ruthless gangs run amuck.”
“Duh, remember, I lived there for a while,” Justin spewed. “I can handle those low-life smugglers.”
Poor Justin. Scarlett had never seen him so upset. The stress must be getting to him.
“It’s one thing lone-wolfing it. But with a baby, a child, and two women—” Zac left it at that.
“Ol’ Luther’s tired of winging it. The baby changes things.” Luther turned to Justin. “You seemed to forget how quickly shit can go from bad to hella-bad.”
Justin ignored Luther. “Meh, Zac can use his vision quest superpower.”
Besides saving damsels in distress, Zac’s ability was finding safe routes. He had guided several wagon trains of hapless immigrants, who had hoped to find refuge in Last State, across the perilous Lost States of America. The cruel reality: Last State had turned out to be a dystopian dictatorship, controlling every aspect of one’s life.
“That’s a given,” Zac retorted under his breath. She knew him well enough to know he didn’t think Tent City was a good idea.
“Moving forward,” Dean pushed on, back to business before the heated discussion went awry. “That’s Plan A. Zac, what’s going on in that cagey brain of yours?”
Zac offered
