Dead Highways (Book 3): Discord by Brown Richard

Author:Brown, Richard [Brown, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombies
Publisher: Richard Brown
Published: 2015-04-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 102

What we decided to do next was something we had needed to do all day.

Relax.

We headed inside the house, sat down in one of the many chairs, and put our tired feet up. I don’t think anyone really knew what we should do next. The goal was to get to New Orleans, and we did that. As Ted had said, it was in the past, and now we needed a new goal. My guess was we’d ultimately decide to head back home, or at the very least find a safer spot outside of the city. But for the moment, none of us were in any hurry to get on the move again. Marietta’s house seemed to be in a relatively safe area, with only a few scattered infected roaming around.

A few hours later and the day started to fade away. The sun began to fall out of sight to the west, leaving behind a pale blue sky that grew increasingly darker with each minute that passed. I opened up a few windows, hoping the coming darkness would help cool the muggy house. Every so often one of us would slip outside and do a proper search of the premises, make sure there weren’t any infected nearby. The last thing we wanted was to get surrounded again.

Inside, we rummaged through the kitchen pantry for something better to eat than the snacks we’d packed. Marietta had a good selection of canned goods. What she didn’t have was a manual can opener. Lucky for us, Ted was able to get the cans opened with his Swiss Army knife. We each picked what we wanted (I picked a can of baked beans and one of mini raviolis), grabbed a fork or spoon, and then gathered at the dining room table to eat.

“This tastes amazing,” I said, shoveling the baked beans into my mouth as fast as I could.

I didn’t even care that the food wasn’t warm. It sure beat the hell out of Ted’s MREs. It was funny watching everyone dig into their cans, hardly even stopping for a second to breathe or look up to acknowledge each other. We didn’t need plates, napkins, or prayers to the Lord. This wasn’t a fancy dinner. Fuck manners. We were effectively homeless, tired from hitchhiking the deadly streets all day. We deserved a nice meal prepared by Green Giant or Chef Boyardee. Ted, Robinson, and Bowser all downed a third can.

Once finished, we sat around the table like a bunch of happy hogs after chow time, food stuck to our faces. Robinson found a bottle of cheap white wine in one of the cabinets and poured everyone a glass. He made a nice, heartfelt toast.

“Well, it’s not beer, but still…”

We all clanged our glasses together and relaxed back into our chairs, sipping and savoring each drop of wine.

“One thing we need to do,” Ted said, “is get supplies.”

“Gotta be some stuff around here we could use,” I said. “There’s plenty of canned goods.”

“Okay, when I said supplies I meant weapons,” Ted clarified.

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