Apocalipstick (Hell in a Handbag Book 1) by Lisa Acerbo (the best e book reader txt) 📗

into the theater, making sure they were easy to haul and ready to go.

When done, fresh air beckoned. Jenna climbed the stairwell toward the roof and rested her head against the iron rail, once probably erected to keep people from trying to jump. She peered over the spokes.

Not how to go. Too horrible. The last way anyone would want to die would be to jump into the waiting pool of Streaker hell.

Below, undead aimlessly roamed but no longer crowded against the theater’s glass entrance; they’d fallen out of attack mode. The hastily erected concession stand fortress was surviving well enough to create a buffer. Above, the sun sank lower. Clouds swept in like galloping horses. The wind shifted and rain was imminent.

Perfect. Everyone’s job became a little more complicated with bad weather.

People became ill-tempered when rain made the most basic tasks harder to accomplish. Tonight, the rain could slow the New Racers on foot and the human drivers.

Just dandy! Jenna sighed. Break’s over.

A few hours later, in the gloomy drizzle of sunset, Jenna’s bones ached with the chill. The entire party moved to the roof with the group’s belongings. Cat meowed incessantly from the duffle bag Jenna had shoved him inside. In the hours since the group had barricaded the entrance and windows of the theater, at least a dozen new Streakers had lined the street looking for entry. Now, they began to demand it. Decayed hands bulleted through the broken glass causing shards to fall alongside pieces of flesh.

They’d get inside soon enough. The group’s makeshift barrier would not hold forever. Downstairs would soon become a death trap.

From the roof, the group had a bird’s eye view. They planned the route the New Racers would use to lure the Streakers away and everyone agreed on a meeting spot a few blocks south. The vehicles lined the road in front of the theater. It would be easy to escape if the group could make it to them once a diversion occupied the Streakers.

So many “ifs.”

“Caleb and Victor, you’re staying with the humans,” Peter ordered. “You’re not at full strength, and we can’t worry about you.”

“I’m fine.” Caleb said. Aiko gave him a sideways glance and he fell quiet, nodding in agreement.

New Racers, who would be decoys, started their descent. Some chose to use the fire escape ladders, cascading down like concluding a rock-climbing expedition, graceful and fluid mountaineers. The New Racers, including Aiko and John, jumped from the roof without effort. No matter what method they descended, they reached the ground with impossible speed and elegance.

The Streakers noticed. Their attack on the movie theater doors and windows came to a halt. Instead, they shambled toward New Racers who attracted their attention with taunts and threats. Aiko flung pebbles with deadly accuracy into the eyes of the undead. The exchange lasted only a few seconds before they ran, leading the undead away.

The rest of the group hurried into action, throwing supplies before descending the fire escapes.

Jenna was driving this time. Making it into a vehicle was a relief, but this was only the beginning. The lack of Streakers was a huge reprieve for the group. They’d all slept little and fought too many zombies in the last few weeks. And Eric was gone.

The undead would be back soon enough. Get going.

She switched the SUV into drive. Emma rode shotgun and Caleb reclined on the back seat with the duffle bag containing Cat on his lap. Jenna was surprised at the relief at having Caleb in the car with her, rather than him being one of the New Racers attempting to outrun the undead.

“You okay?” she asked in the general direction of the back seat before angling the SUV in line with the caravan of vehicles.

Emma turned and placed her hand on Caleb’s forehead.

He swatted it away. “I’m fine. Just tired. I’ll be ready to destroy a whole new band of Streakers after a few hours of R and R.”

Jenna’s body relaxed but only for a moment. Knowing they still had to get out of the town caused her knuckles to turn white against the steering wheel. Four blocks along they stopped at the intersection where everyone had planned to meet. Jenna watched through the rear-view mirror. Caleb sat and scanned the streets. Seconds later shadows turned solid. Doors opened and banged shut.

“They’re all here.” The line of vehicle hitched forward.

Movement outside caught Jenna’s attention. Just a shadow. Just a tree. Just . . . Damn. Not a tree. Not a shadow. “They’re here.”

“You’re right, and they’ve brought reinforcements.” Caleb twisted to peer out the back window.

Streakers slunk and staggered around the corners of the buildings, beginning to fill the road in front of the line of vehicles.

“Move! Move!” Jenna screamed the words at the line of cars, even though no one could hear her in the other vehicles.

The SUV lurched forward.

Drivers hit the gas pedals, speeding away.

A Streaker crashed into her door. Fingers clawed at the window, leaving behind a streak of human flesh. A finger bone cracked against the pane of glass. Gas pedal hitting the floor, she jammed the steering wheel a hard right and then left, throwing her passengers sideways. The crunch of a body infiltrated the interior.

“Sorry.” She bit hard on her bottom lip to keep from screaming and maneuvered the steering wheel violently, slamming into the Streaker again. The feline meowed from the back seat. Caleb grunted. The Streaker staggered and fell. Jenna reversed and aimed the vehicle in its direction. Bones crunched under the wheels.

“That’s how you do it.” Jenna peeked over her shoulder. “How’s Cat.”

“You’re a cold-hearted woman.” Caleb said. “Except when it comes to the cat you said you didn’t want.”

The caravan moved throughout the rest of the town without problem. At the edge of Pittsfield, getting through the debris piled was tiring but uneventful. The group found a partially cleared area. After scattering a few tires and discarded car parts, the vehicles continued their trek. High Point Inn now only hours away.

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