Those Lazy Sundays: A Novel of the Undead Read Online Free Page B

cheekbone and jaw. Her mouth hung open, revealing an empty cavity save for a few broken teeth. The man was in better shape, sporting just a basketball-sized red splotch stretching across his white shirt, like a tie dye gone horribly wrong.
    “I think I’m done here,” Jack said, almost whispering. “Whatever they’re on, I don’t want any.”
    “Yeah…” Sarah agreed, backing away.
    There was no argument from anyone this time. Even Andy was uncharacteristically silent. He simply nodded, and turned around. The six of them rushed back to the van, hurriedly got in, and locked the doors. In the rearview mirror, Andy watched one hand, and then a second, grasp at the cement of the parking lot from below, searching for a handhold. He put the van into drive and gunned it out of the parking lot, pulling onto the road without looking.
    “Think we ought to call the police or something?” Kyle asked after a few moments of silence.
    “About what?” Andy asked sharply. “A bunch of crunchy hippies fucked up on drugs? They’d have to lock up half the state.”
    “I dunno man, that one chick looked like she was hurt pretty badly,” said Jack. “And they weren't dressed like hippies. I don’t know what is going on there, but they could be hurt, or they could be dangerous, or…”
    “It couldn’t hurt just to call,” Sarah agreed. “Just let them know…”
    “Yeah, guys, we can’t just do nothing,” Mary said.
    “So call then,” Andy replied dryly.
    He checked his mirror and pulled the van onto the road again.
    Sarah dialed 9-11 and held the phone up to her ear. She was greeted with a busy tone.
    She took the phone from her ear and looked at it, surprised. She dialed again.
    Busy.
    She tossed her phone on the dash and looked back at her friends.
    “I keep getting a busy signal,” she told them, confused. “Someone else want to try? There might be something wrong with my connection or something.”
    Mary reached into the back of the van and picked up Kyle’s gray backpack. She took his phone from the side pocket and handed it to him.
    “Can you try calling?” she asked.
    Kyle dialed the number on his phone and waited.
    After a few seconds, he returned the phone to his backpack.
    “Same thing,” he said.
    “There’s gotta be some kind of serious accident nearby,” Jack opined. His voice sounded unsure. “They must be getting a lot of calls.”
    Sarah looked over her shoulder at him and nodded slowly and deliberately, a non-verbal signal meaning “I get what you’re saying, but I know that you know that you know that you’re full of shit.”
    “Try again in a few minutes,” Andy told them. “Whatever they’re dealing with is probably more important than a bunch of drug addicts.”
    “You really think that’s what they were?” Mary asked softly. “Their faces were so…”
    “I read this story about this guy who was high on LSD and chewed his own tongue off,” Andy replied. “People can do some pretty fucked up stuff when they’re high.”
    “Okay,” said Mary, looking unconvinced.
    They drove in silence for a few minutes. Sarah tried dialing the police one more time, to no avail, this time not even getting a signal.
    “We’ll be driving through Allentown soon,” Andy said. “I’m sure they at least have a local cop. We can stop and rep… SHIT!”
    He slammed on the brakes, snapping everyone forward even as the seatbelts locked them in place. The brake pedal vibrated under Andy’s foot as the anti-lock system activated.
    A dull thump came from the front of the vehicle, and the van bounced up and down.
    Andy guided the vehicle to the side of the road and turned on the hazard lights. The cab of the van was a symphony of gasping, heavy breathing and pounding chests as they all took stock of their own body parts. Kate was shaking visibly, and Kyle was clutching the “Oh Shit” handle (so-named since grabbing it usually led the passenger to yell “Oh Shit!” and potentially act on the