The Dead Series (Book 3): Dead Line by Adam Millard Page B
Authors: Adam Millard
Tags: Zombies
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whatever they're called, are new enough for you to remember them, River, I think it's clear to see who ripped off who.'
Holy shit, he was on a roll . Bettered her twice in less than five minutes. Victory had never felt so good.
'Whatever,' River said, a little perturbed. 'I'll bet your band were nowhere near as big as Aqua. Barbie Girl was at number one for ages .'
Shane didn't even need to run through Abba's hits, or how long they had resided at the top of the charts. And, other than being able to recall the specifics, he couldn't be bothered.
'You're probably right,' Shane ceded. 'I can't even remember one song by my band.'
River grinned exposing a mouthful of tiny, pearl-white teeth. 'You won't beat me at music. I had loads of CDs. Did you know the Spice Girls?'
Oh, now we're getting into it, Shane thought. He would humour her anyway, because it maintained the relief within the car, and that could only be a good thing.
'Oh, I think I've heard of them,' Shane said, sardonically. If River picked up on his sarcasm, she didn't show it.
'Yeah. Well, I had every CD they ever released. Used to drive my mom crazy with it, yet she always got me the newest album for Christmas or my birthday, so I don't think she hated them as much as she made out.'
'While we're talking about music,' Marla said, changing the subject by keeping it the same, 'I don't suppose there are any CDs in the glove-compartment. I haven't heard music since . . . well, since forever . Might be nice.'
Shane hadn't thought to check the glove-box, but that was where he had once kept his music, when he had possessed a car of his own. He had assumed the rest of the group wanted silence after the morning they had endured, but now that the seed was planted, Shane was in agreement.
Music would be nice.
Terry, who had spent the last five minutes silently smiling at the hilarity of the ensuing conversation, closed his bible and pulled the glove-box handle.
He reached in and pulled out a service-manual for the Camry. He doubted they would be using the car long enough to need it servicing, so discarded it rapidly between his feet and continued to rummage. The sound of plastic clicking together was a good sign, and when he retracted his hand the next time it was clutching a handful of CD cases.
'What is there?' River excitedly asked, sticking her head between the front seats.
'I'll bet there's no Aqua,' Shane said. 'Or Spice Girls.'
'We have . . . ' Terry said, flicking through the CDs. ' . . . Ravi Shankar?' He shrugged, put that one to the back. 'We also have somebody called Chet Baker, one from a band called Herbie Hancock's Headhunters, and . . . ooh, this one looks good,' the sarcasm in his voice suggested it wasn't going to be good in the slightest, 'Mahavishnu Orchestra.'
Silence.
' Great ,' River said after a moment. 'We get the only car on the lot belonging to a Geography teacher.'
'Hang on,' Shane said, snatching the last CD from Terry's hand. He looked down at the cover, which portrayed the band playing on front of a red, lightning-filled sky. It was garish, to say the least. 'This is the Mahavishnu Orchestra. Oh, River, you haven't heard anything until you've heard this.' He was, of course, playing her, but in the back seat she brightened a little. Whether she believed him or not, it didn't matter.
They were going to listen to some music . . .
Shane flipped open the CD case and unclipped the disc. He was about to insert it into the player on the dash when it slipped between his fingers and rolled across his leg, landing down by his right foot.
' Shit ,' he muttered. He reached down, keeping the wheel steady with his left hand and his jaw.
Couldn't . . . quite . . . reach . . . it.
He switched hands, the wheel slipped through his fingers slightly, and as he plucked the CD up from the footwell he huffed.
'LOOK OUT!' someone screamed from the back. Shane didn't know whether it was Marla, or River, but the car about to hit them was travelling
Holy shit, he was on a roll . Bettered her twice in less than five minutes. Victory had never felt so good.
'Whatever,' River said, a little perturbed. 'I'll bet your band were nowhere near as big as Aqua. Barbie Girl was at number one for ages .'
Shane didn't even need to run through Abba's hits, or how long they had resided at the top of the charts. And, other than being able to recall the specifics, he couldn't be bothered.
'You're probably right,' Shane ceded. 'I can't even remember one song by my band.'
River grinned exposing a mouthful of tiny, pearl-white teeth. 'You won't beat me at music. I had loads of CDs. Did you know the Spice Girls?'
Oh, now we're getting into it, Shane thought. He would humour her anyway, because it maintained the relief within the car, and that could only be a good thing.
'Oh, I think I've heard of them,' Shane said, sardonically. If River picked up on his sarcasm, she didn't show it.
'Yeah. Well, I had every CD they ever released. Used to drive my mom crazy with it, yet she always got me the newest album for Christmas or my birthday, so I don't think she hated them as much as she made out.'
'While we're talking about music,' Marla said, changing the subject by keeping it the same, 'I don't suppose there are any CDs in the glove-compartment. I haven't heard music since . . . well, since forever . Might be nice.'
Shane hadn't thought to check the glove-box, but that was where he had once kept his music, when he had possessed a car of his own. He had assumed the rest of the group wanted silence after the morning they had endured, but now that the seed was planted, Shane was in agreement.
Music would be nice.
Terry, who had spent the last five minutes silently smiling at the hilarity of the ensuing conversation, closed his bible and pulled the glove-box handle.
He reached in and pulled out a service-manual for the Camry. He doubted they would be using the car long enough to need it servicing, so discarded it rapidly between his feet and continued to rummage. The sound of plastic clicking together was a good sign, and when he retracted his hand the next time it was clutching a handful of CD cases.
'What is there?' River excitedly asked, sticking her head between the front seats.
'I'll bet there's no Aqua,' Shane said. 'Or Spice Girls.'
'We have . . . ' Terry said, flicking through the CDs. ' . . . Ravi Shankar?' He shrugged, put that one to the back. 'We also have somebody called Chet Baker, one from a band called Herbie Hancock's Headhunters, and . . . ooh, this one looks good,' the sarcasm in his voice suggested it wasn't going to be good in the slightest, 'Mahavishnu Orchestra.'
Silence.
' Great ,' River said after a moment. 'We get the only car on the lot belonging to a Geography teacher.'
'Hang on,' Shane said, snatching the last CD from Terry's hand. He looked down at the cover, which portrayed the band playing on front of a red, lightning-filled sky. It was garish, to say the least. 'This is the Mahavishnu Orchestra. Oh, River, you haven't heard anything until you've heard this.' He was, of course, playing her, but in the back seat she brightened a little. Whether she believed him or not, it didn't matter.
They were going to listen to some music . . .
Shane flipped open the CD case and unclipped the disc. He was about to insert it into the player on the dash when it slipped between his fingers and rolled across his leg, landing down by his right foot.
' Shit ,' he muttered. He reached down, keeping the wheel steady with his left hand and his jaw.
Couldn't . . . quite . . . reach . . . it.
He switched hands, the wheel slipped through his fingers slightly, and as he plucked the CD up from the footwell he huffed.
'LOOK OUT!' someone screamed from the back. Shane didn't know whether it was Marla, or River, but the car about to hit them was travelling