Dead Highways (Book 3): Discord Read Online Free Page A

all stared at Robinson, wondering if he was going to continue the train of thought.
    “What is the worst thing?” I asked.
    Robinson looked up. “Huh?”
    Thank God, he hadn’t heard the question, and I certainly wasn’t about to repeat myself. It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have asked that. The words had seeped from my mouth without a second of thoughtful consideration. It’s a problem I had sometimes—runny diarrhea mouth.
    “Never mind,” I said. “It’s not important.”
    Ted continued to scope out our surroundings. “It’s a hot damn day, that’s for sure.”
    Good going, Ted. Change the subject. Make small talk. Mention the weather.
    When no one responded, Ted stood up and gazed back out at the golf course. “Don’t see a lot of infected. A few over there.” He pointed at a building to our right, roughly two hundred yards away. “And another there,” he said, indicating the large pond straight north of our position.
    On the other side of the pond—or as golfers might call it, the water hazard—was a single zombie stumbling west across the green, probably looking for someone to eat. No worries. By the time we’d be passing by, he’d be long gone.
    “Y’all about ready to get moving?” Ted asked.
    Everyone answered by standing up. I grabbed my bowie knife out of the ground, stuck it back into the leather sheath connected to my belt, and then slung my bag back over my aching shoulders.
    Peaches stood beside me, quiet and unusually stoic.
    “You feeling okay?” I asked.
    She looked over at me and nodded, but didn’t say a peep. I might not have been an expert on women. Hell, I was barely amateur status, despite having my first sexual encounter (like something you have with a lion on a safari—dangerous, yet exciting, and full of surprises) only a few nights ago. Still, I knew what that look meant. Roger that. Her silence came through loud and clear.
    She wasn’t feeling okay.
    She wasn’t ready to tell me why.
    But she wasn’t feeling okay, and I knew it was my fault.
    As we left the shade of the trees and wandered out into the bright sunny golf course, I tried to force the thought from my mind. I needed to stay focused, clear-headed, lest I become zombie food.
    No matter, the feeling stuck with me like bad acne on a teenager.
    Peaches was upset.
    And baby Olivia was the reason.

Chapter 86
     
    “Any of y’all ever been golfing before?” Ted asked, as he led us up the center of the green, over small hills and past the occasional sand trap.
    “A few times,” Robinson replied. “Went with some guys from work. Didn’t do so well.”
    “Yeah, me too,” Ted said. “Not really my thing. Much prefer the gun range.”
    I had never been golfing. I figured the same was true for the others in the group, given their unwillingness to answer the question. The thought of Aamod golfing brought a momentary smile to my face. My gut told me sports weren’t something Aamod found appealing, golf especially. It was a gentlemen’s game. It was supposed to be relaxing. I could see him getting angry and throwing his putter like Happy Gilmore.
    We no longer kept to a single file line. Out on the open green of the Audubon Golf Course, the threat seemed minimal. If there were any infected around, they’d likely spot us, with only the occasional tree to hide under. But we’d also see any threat coming slow and unsteady from a hundred yards away, giving us plenty of time to react (run for our lives), and even Robinson could outrun a zombie.
    I’d done my homework. I knew the rules. When dealing with zombies you must always try to avoid being trapped, cornered, surrounded. One at a time, they could be easily dispatched. In large numbers, however, they could quickly overwhelm you if you weren’t careful, especially in tight areas, like inside buildings or alleyways. Always have an escape route, and be willing to adjust at a moment’s notice. And for the love of God, don’t be distracted by the emotional