Read Zomb-Pocalypse 3 for Free Online Page B

proud
detective who just uncovered the mystery plot.
    “Well look at
you,” I tell him, and he chuckles.
    “One thing I can’t
figure out though,” he says, and I look over at him, surprised Silas is willing
to admit that he doesn’t know everything. “How did you get your backpack out of
the house?” He asks the question I had least been expecting.
    “I dropped it off
the roof into some bushes and picked it up on my way by,” I admit, and he gives
me a sideways look that actually appears a little proud.
    “Well look at
you,” he says, mimicking my words to him from a few moments ago. “Your dad’s
gonna be pissed though,” he warns me, and I nod.
    “I know,” I tell
him. I knew he would be, and I’m willing to take the punishment.
    Silas surprises
the hell out of me by reaching over and grabbing my hand off of my lap and holding
it. His hand is warm and rough with calluses. I stare straight ahead, feeling a
flush come over my entire body as I give in to my urges and squeeze his hand
back.
    “So where are we
going?” I ask after a few minutes when I start to feel the silence get heavy
and awkward.
    “Barry is sending
us to a small town about forty-five minutes from the base of the mountain.” He
pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it over to me. I unfold it
and find a map. The small town is called Wheeley, and I feel my stomach dip.
    “I know this place
and it isn’t that small,” I tell him, making Silas glance over at me sharply.
    “How big do you
figure?” he asks after a moment, and I shrug.
    “I don’t know but
they are big enough to have a Wal-Mart.” I say, making Silas curse under his
breath.
    “This is gonna be
a shit show,” he tells me, and I can’t help but agree.
    We start to see
more and more signs of humanity—or what’s left of it—the closer we get. All the
houses look abandoned and dark, garbage litters the streets, and abandoned cars
and trucks are everywhere, left with their doors wide open, or worse, closed
with zombies inside, scratching at the windows. There is even a burnt up dark
thing on the horizon. “What is that?” I ask Silas, pointing it out. It’s too oddly
shaped to be a building, but too large to be a truck, car, or even a bus.
    Silas looks where
I’m pointing and squints. “I believe that’s an airplane,” he says, and I feel
sick as I take in the size of it. Now that he’s said so, I can see that he’s
right.
    “It looks like it
was a big one,” I say quietly, and Silas nods.
    “A 747, at least,”
he agrees, and I can’t help thinking about all the people who must’ve died even
way up in the air. If even a handful of the people on the airplane turned from
having the rare blood type, it would’ve been a slaughter. Nobody would’ve known
what the zombies were at first, and there probably weren’t any weapons either,
since you aren’t allowed anything even remotely dangerous on a plane… Silas
squeezes my fingers gently, pulling me from my dark thoughts.
    I blink and look
around, purposely avoiding looking back in the mirror at the plane. I don’t
know why, out of everything, the plane crash is hitting me so hard—probably
because I used to be terrified to fly. More and more zombies are visible now,
roaming the ditches and roads in their tattered, dirty clothes, and equally
tattered and dirty skin. I avert my eyes from a particularly gruesome looking
lady in a pink sun dress. “Man, I forgot how terrible they were,” I admit to Silas.
Being up on the mountain top, even for those few days, had really made me
forget what it was like down here on the ground.
    “Wishing you
hadn’t come?” Silas asks, and even though I kind of am, I shake my head. I
would do it all again, even though I realize nobody in their right mind would
choose to come back down to all of this if they didn’t have to. I gently pull
my hand from Silas’ as we pull into the Wal-Mart parking lot behind the other
two vehicles, and I know my time for