Plagued: The Ironville Zombie Quarantine Retraction Experiment (Plagued States of America Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

to look at Tom through the passenger window.
    “We’ll be fine ,” Tom assured him with a smile.
    The guard checked outside the fence in all directions before opening the gate. The moment there was enough room, Tom drove through. Penelope watched the gate close behind them, cutting them off from safety. The second gate began to roll open and Tom drove them into biter territory.
    Penelope watched the road ahead, learning as quickly as she could the route back. Tom drove up the road and veered onto another street that followed the overgrown train tracks and the river beyond. She hardly saw the tracks through the trees. Tall grass and weeds grew up from cracks in the pavement, slapping the underside of the vehicle.
    “This thing’s got heated seats,” Houston exclaimed as he pressed a button on the center console. “Just stay on this road for six miles,” he added, waving a hand ahead.
    It was hardly a road. More like a seldom used, raised trail. The encroaching trees drooped over the straight lane of blackened earth. The Subaru pushed through low hanging branches that clanked into the headlights, snapped at the windshield, and swatted the roof. Some branches raked their nails the length of the car when Tom slowed to drive around a maze of their groping arms.
    “This is why you want a bigger rig out here,” Houston said. “Push your way right through this crap and not even slow down.”
    “But like you said, my rig has heated seats,” Tom replied. “And satellite radio.”
    The road noise was too l oud for listening to the radio. Penelope listened to the rise and fall of the revving engine as she let herself sway with the vehicle each time Tom maneuvered to avoid obstacles. A loud whump from beneath the car startled her at one point, but Tom said it was just a fallen branch. It sounded more like something trying to get in. The heavy aroma of Houston’s zombie stench inside the car only made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end the rest of the way.
    “That’s the turn off,” Houston said, pointing to a break in the trees. Tom slowed and turned off, veering down the hillside and onto another obscured road that led through the wall of trees. How Houston recognized the place was beyond her.
    “ Welcome to Ironville,” Houston said. There were several rusted, metal buildings ahead and numerous rusted-out, decaying box cars littering what looked like an enormous open field. Small trees grew sporadically. Several tall cylinders that may have been ground-level water towers or fuel tanks stood off to one side of the complex. Two menacing looking engines blocked their way, each etched with the weeping stains of years of exposure to the elements.
    “What is this place? A graveyard?”
    “Of sorts. Ironville was the biggest train yard and shopcraft in Louisville history. Fifty-seven acres, six sheds, three turntables, you name it, you’ll find it here.”
    “How about a working train ? These things look like relics.”
    “Perfect hiding place, huh?” Houston asked.
    “Those can’t possibly run,” Tom said.
    “Those ? No,” Houston concurred. “We’re going inside.”
    Tom brought the car to a halt and started looking in every direction for zombies. Houston and Penelope did as well. Penelope looked out the back and watched the tree line. She wished she were outside, away from Houston, so she could smell the air. This was the kind of place zombies liked to hunt.
    “No biters seem to be around,” Tom said.
    Houston opened his door and stepped out. “Let’s get this show on the road, then.”
    Tom turned off the engine and climbed out. Penelope slid across the car and got out on Tom’s side, trying to avoid Houston. It was still bitter cold, a strong, steady breeze blowing easterly over the trees and bending the dry grass all around them with a hiss of warning.
    Tom opened the back hatch and unzipped a pack. He pulled out a flashlight to give to Penelope and another for himself, and a