Mark Henry - Road Trip of the Living Dead (Amanda Feral, Book 2)

It took two tries but I nally snatched it on, sending a cone of light arcing around the room as though spotlit by a crackedout carnie.To my right hooks strung with moldy rubber sheets, themselves dotted with mold so thick it had taken on the heavy look of moss.To the left three half walls cut the area into quarters providing for a distinct area of ones own without all the pesky privacy.

Shower shoes my ass, I said aloud, my voice played against the walls, which I could see were tiled. Flip-ops werent going to cut it in this room.

I needed a gas can and a match.

As I was turning to leave, I heard a faint scraping. At rst it seemed to be coming from the stalls, perhaps through an overlooked vent in the ceiling. How was I to know for sureI was busy booking toward the door. Unlike so many victims in horror movies, I did not have to be told to run by the black man in the sixth row of the theater. I know what that threatening music means. I grabbed for the knob and pulled. It spun loose in my grasp, rotating in its cuff like a dial.

Broken.

I spun around and collapsed against the door, facing the shower room and the source of the odd noise, listening.

Nothing.

And then a whole lotta something.

An aching squelch that could only be nails scratching against metal ooded the room, followed by a thudding bump against the door. It jarred with such force I was scooted forward across the oor, sarong snagging on the concrete. I winced, not with pain but with the knowledge my skin was being horribly scraped. I rebounded and braced against a second assault.

Who the fuck is it? I screamed, forcing my heels into a couple of chips in the oor for leverage.

A low rolling growl responded and a tapping of nails scurried across the metal. Then the door crept open, not from a ramming thud but a ROAD TRIP OF THE LIVING DEAD

9 1

slow methodical pressure. I stiffened and fought to hold my ground. There was no question the werewolves had found us, but had they found the others rst? Was there anyone out there to help me?

I felt the scream climbing my throat before I even thought to do it. It echoed in the cinder block building.

The crack in the door widened and claws as black and sharp as those Id imagined were reached for me in reality. Splintered jagged nails curving out of hairy ngers crooked around the door, where they curled the paint off with each scratch. I forced my body against it, catching the werewolf soh... what would you call that?paw between the frame and the metal corner. Outside a long yelping reply turned from ear-shattering to distant within a few seconds.

I ung the door open and ran like a retard in orthopedic shoes,63 arms windmilling and feet stumbling over even the smallest pebbles, twigs and/or Idahoan rodent in my path. Id reached the campre before I noticed that both the heels were missing from my Manolos... or were they Louboutins? Jesus! You know Im freaked out when I cant categorize fashion.

Whats up with you? Gil asked, sipping from a red plastic party cup.

Didnt any of you hear me? I looked from one face to the next. Pina Colada, or whatever, had returned from her stroll with the Jojobas in tow;64 they anked her on a reside bench like zealous bookends, but wait... these were zealous bookends with name tagsas if the short-sleeve dress shirts werent geeky enough.

Tad and Corey.

Moving on...

Honey and Gil were a bit too cozy for Mr. Kims taste. He stood on the hood of the car with his arms crossed and an un63 Thats right, a retard. You want to make somethin of it? 64 If only we could be so lucky to get a skin care x out here in bumfuck. 9 2

Youre going to have to mend this shit between you and Wendy. Gil ipped down the visor and picked at his canines.

Why is it my responsibility? I asked as I pulled out of the Berkeley Pit parking lot.

Um. Cause youre the one being a bitch.

Hows that any different than any other time?

He slapped the visor closed and turned toward me.Because its directed at Wendy.Youve been bitchy this whole trip. Bickering. Snapping. It hasnt been pleasant, I can tell you.Youre not fooling anyone, you know?

Honeys eyes avoided mine in the rearview mirror. Im not?

No.This is all about your mother. Admit it.

Maybe it is. But I

Just take care of Wendy. If youre not up to it, Ill take care of your mother when the time comes.

Youd do that?

Sure. Im one of your best friends, remember? The other ones waiting for some relief from the tension.

I reached over and squeezed his hand, a rare tender moment between two friends plotting a dying womans murder. It warms the cockles.106

Wendy and Fishhook were playing cards when we found them.Through the window of the RV, I could just make out his snorting laughter, between slurps of a Big Gulp. As we approached, I could see what had him so elated.Wendys upper lip was coated with a swath of blood.The effect was not dissimilar to a bad Sam Elliot mustache, if he were a esh-eating cannibal or enjoyed marinara in an altogether unhealthy way.

Thats attractive. I plopped down next to Fishhook.

Body. She sucked the last bit of gristle from her teeth. It does a zombie good.

106 Whatever those are.Anyone?

ROAD TRIP OF THE LIVING DEAD

1 5 3

Hows it working its way through? I pointed to her stomach and the hole.

Not good. Ive had to rig up a little system. Wendy slid from the booth in a labored steady manner, opened her ratty western shirt to reveal a jerry-rigged poop bag attached to her severed intestine with twist ties and hair scrunchies. The gas station guy was really helpful.

In more ways than one, I suspected.

I stood up and hugged her. Oh sweetheart. Lets get back on the road. The next big store we nd, well patch you up good. I see where youre going with that, though. I pointed at the self-colostomy. It seemed to be doing the trick since the shopping bag was nearly full.Wendy held the crinkly plastic like a bowling ball-sized tumor. It was not at all cute. Nice work. Really.

Shut up.

Sorry.

Yeah, right.

No Im serious. Sorry.

Okay.

A quick phone call, 200-some miles and we located Scott in a Wal-Mart parking lot in Billings. The chain store seemed to welcome overnight camping and an armada of recreational vehicles was already moored around its atolls of light posts. Fishhook, whod become a procient driver and ad hoc member of the ghouly gang maneuvered the Winnebago into a space and I pulled in beside him.

Scott rang my cell phone as I did.

Were here. But I dont see you. I scanned the lot for the god-awful orange sports car.

Were near the front of the store.

I opened my door and stood to get a look above some of 1 5 4

do a good job hiding

Music from the DVD...

the fact that her boob

job looked like two

Learn to Strip with the Girls of the

doorknobs. It read:

Hooch and Cooch*

Learn to Strip with

the Girls of the

Hooch and Cooch

(see inset).

Thin Lizzy Jailbreak

Jesus. Like one of

Foghat Slow Ride

those Carmen Electra

Heart Barracuda

striptease workouts?

Ted Nugent Cat Scratch Fever

Yep. He tossed it

War Low Rider

back in the truck.

Nazareth Hair of the Dog

Sells like hotcakes.

The Runaways Cherry Bomb

I bet.

Blue Oyster Cult Burnin for You

I looked past Gil

Kansas Carry on Wayward Son

into the club for the

Boston More than a Feeling

rst time and wit

nessed the horrors of

uncontrolled testosterone production. A