Escape From the Big Easy by D L Martone

Author:D L Martone [Martone, D L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: NGU Publishing
Published: 2020-01-22T22:00:00+00:00

Maybe ignorance really is bliss.

“That is so not cool,” Ariel scolded him. “You don’t even know if he lets his cat smoke.”

Likely meaning to push him away from Azazel’s carrier, she inadvertently shoved him so hard he tumbled backward down the stairs – just as one of the invading zombies reached the lowest step. With our mouths hanging open in disbelief, the jester and I glanced at each other and then back down the stairs, where the zombie and five of his mates were devouring the screaming stoner who’d taken the fall.

The redheaded girl wore a horrified, shameful expression on her face, but the unfortunate accident had probably saved our lives. The zombies who’d converged on his body had now wedged themselves on the staircase, temporarily blocking the path from other marauding creatures.

“We have to go up,” the jester said, grabbing the stunned redhead’s hand and dragging her back toward the rear hallway.

Without hesitation, I followed the two of them to a narrow staircase I hadn’t noticed before. Rapidly, we leapt up the wooden steps. Glancing backward, I noted several of their friends had begun to follow us. But the zombies had either cleared the main staircase or found a way up the ramp created by the collapsed gallery because, as soon as the unfortunate people reached the foot of the stairs, they were tackled from behind.

At the top of the staircase, I set Azazel’s carrier on the floor and signaled for the jester to help me push a large wardrobe from the wall and pivot it onto its side to block the stairs. We managed to shove it in place just as the first undead creature reached it. With just one of them pushing against the cabinet, it held long enough for the three of us to make our next move.

I felt a tug on my elbow and turned to see Ariel pointing toward an open doorway, where the jester was waiting for me.

Quickly, I picked up the carrier and followed the two of them onto a back deck. From there, we had a hazy view of Ursulines Avenue and the zombie hordes still being lured by the music, which, sadly, no one had thought to shut off yet. I wasn’t sure what my new pals had in mind, but the only exit appeared to be a multistory staircase leading to the gated driveway below.

I shut the door behind me. “Now, what?”

The jester pointed to a side gate in the wall lining the driveway. “That leads to a narrow alley behind the empty house next door. We can use it to get out – and then run like hell to Bourbon.”

I shrugged. Looked like, regardless of what choice I made, I was going to die: either there in the House of Death or down in the zombie-filled streets three stories below. The worst aspect of that realization, though, wasn’t so much my impending death – or even Azazel’s. I shuddered instead to think of what it would mean for

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