Badass Zombie Road Trip Read Online Free Page B

Jonah’s pulse quickened as they approached the huge ‘Welcome to California’ sign. He white-knuckled the wheel once more as his attention split between the giant sign and the snoring giant. One mile. Snore . One half mile. Snort . One quarter mile. Snooze . As the distance closed and the state line drew near, anxiety gripped Jonah’s heart with palpable dread. This was wrong. He knew it, yet he kept on driving. Dale had asked him, as a friend, to let it go, but here Jonah was, driving straight for it. He couldn’t let it go. He had to know what was wrong with California.
    “It’s too late now,” Jonah whispered.
    The state line was a beacon of mistrust and lies. Jonah had broken his promise, and did it matter that he done so with the best intentions? No, he supposed not. They say Hell is paved with such attempts, and so, with a weary heart, Jonah cast his stones along that much-traveled path. He pressed his foot down, pushing the Ford ever closer to its dreaded goal. Twenty feet. Ten feet. One. None.
    Two things happened in the single moment Jonah drove Dale into California.
    First, Jonah swore he could feel the state line as they passed over it. Like some invisible thread that bisected him to the core, or a thin wire of awareness that passed through his being. And, on the heels of this awareness, there came a flood of guilt, a drowning sensation that Jonah had done something very, very wrong.
    The second thing that happened was simpler and more realistic.
    Dale awoke with a sudden jerk.
    “Where are we?” he asked. From dead-asleep to wide-awake in a split second, Dale pressed his face against the passenger window and took in his surroundings. His attention snapped back and forth, from car to road to landscape, like an overexcited dog. After a few seconds of silence, he asked again, “Where are we?”
    “Nowhere,” Jonah squeaked. He had hoped that Dale would remain in hibernation until they were entrenched in the state. “We’re an hour from Reno. Go back to sleep.”
    They watched in silence as a passing sign made a liar out of Jonah. It proclaimed that the sunny state of California was very pleased to welcome them.
    “Jonah?”
    “Umm … yes?”
    “Why did that welcome sign have the words ‘Sunny California’ on it?”
    “Did it?” Jonah half asked and half said—half hoping Dale would think this was all just a dream and go back to sleep. “You’re imagining things.” As he said this, they passed a billboard that assured Dale that Jonah was indeed a liar by offering the cheapest hotel prices available in the sunny state of California. Exit seven, only five miles on the right!
    “Jonah?” Dale asked.
    “Dale?” Jonah asked.
    “Are we where I think we are? And you better not say what I think you are going to say, or God help me, I will rip your head from your shoulders and shit down your neck!”
    Jonah thought long and hard about this question. There was no use denying it anymore, as Dale was eyeing a steady stream of highway markers and billboards that revealed the lie for what it was. He would rather not have Dale make good on his head ripping, neck shitting promise, but the jig was indeed up.
    Jonah drew a deep, soulful sigh, and said, “California.”
    Dale said nothing in response, which surprised Jonah. Jonah was further surprised when Dale grabbed the steering wheel and tried to flip a bitch against the four lanes of busy interstate traffic.
    “What are you doing?” Jonah screamed.
    “I have to get out of here now!” Dale screamed.
    The car wandered from lane to lane as the men fought for the wheel and screamed at one another. Cars honked and swerved, some very close to Jonah’s Focus, and a multitude of middle fingers and fists raised in their direction in shows of aggression.
    Jonah swatted at Dale’s death grip on the wheel. “Let go! You’re going to get us killed!” After Jonah landed a particularly nasty blow, Dale relinquished the wheel.
    He stuffed his fingers into