Read Zomb-Pocalypse 3 for Free Online

could take it, but Ryan doesn’t have family going
out there today—I do.
    I come up beside
my mom and wrap her in a huge hug. “Dad will be okay,” I promise her, and she
sends me a wan smile that I know she is just putting on for show.
    “Of course he
will,” she tells me fiercely, and I plant a kiss on her cheek.
    “I love you, Mom,”
I tell her, and she finally looks at me.
    “I love you too,
Janey,” she says as she gives my arm a final squeeze before moving forward to
give my dad another hug goodbye. I look around; no one is watching me, so I
take the opportunity to slip away. I stroll casually to the kitchen until I’m
out of sight, and then I run as fast as I can to the back door. My hands are
shaking with adrenaline and they fumble the lock my first try, but I get it
with the second twist. I make sure to carefully turn the knob to lock it behind
me, and then I’m running in the darkness. It’s pitch black, but I know my way
like the back of my hand. I just have to hope that I don’t run into anything
lurking around out here. I race around the side of the house as quietly as I
can, stopping to grab my backpack from the bush.
    I see the truck we
drove up here in is running, warming its engine in the cold morning, as well as
two other vehicles. They must each be taking a vehicle so they can bring back
the most amount of stuff. There is still one more car, but it isn’t running and
I know they are probably leaving it for the others, in case they need to escape
quickly.
    I jog over to the
F-150 and try the back door. It’s unlocked and I climb in, just about having a
stroke when the interior light comes on. I quickly shut the door as hard as I
dare and throw myself down onto the floor, staring up at the light and cursing
its existence. My heart beats erratically until the light finally starts to
fade and finally goes out completely. I let out a sigh of relief and then lay
back and wait, shifting uncomfortably. I should’ve taken my backpack off first,
but I didn’t. Now I’m laying here like a turtle flipped over on its shell, and
it is not comfortable.
    I wiggle, trying
to find a better spot, and almost consider getting up to remove my backpack,
but I hear the crunch of shoes on gravel and that gets my heart beating like
crazy again. I close my eyes and pray it’s Silas, and that he doesn’t have
anything he needs to put in the backseat. I can’t have him discovering me until
it’s too late to turn around. The sound of footsteps gets louder and my crazy
brain suddenly thinks of something else—what if it isn’t Silas at all? What if
it’s a zombie?
    I shake my head in
the dark; I’m being ridiculous. If it’s a zombie, I’m relatively safe inside
the truck, unless it’s a horde, and so high up on the mountains that is just as
unlikely. The door opens, and I have to resist the urge to let out a squeak as
my adrenaline kicks into overdrive. I hold my breath and stare at the back of
the seats as the light comes on, making spots of light blur my vision. I slam
my eyes shut and command myself not to move. I hear rustling, like a backpack
being thrown into the passenger seat, and then the door is slammed shut and the
light slowly fades again.
    I feel better when
the cab is bathed in darkness again—but not much better. I hear Silas rolling
the window down, and then the cold air is rushing in as he leans out and talks
to somebody.
    “I’ll just follow
you then,” Silas shouts across the driveway. I hear someone, maybe Barry, reply
with a grunt of agreement. The sound of engines revving and tires crunching on
the rocky, uneven driveway is all I can hear. Silas rolls his window up, puts
the truck in drive, and we’re off. This is it, I’ve pulled it off, and it’s too
late to turn back now.
    It’s slow going
down the mountain in the darkness—and super bumpy. Almost immediately, my back
starts to ache from the uncomfortable way I’m laying, thanks to my backpack.
Every pothole we hit makes