Greasy handprints and gray slime coated the Scout’s green sheet metal front to back. Daymon put the pedal to the metal after parting the Dead Sea. Two left turns and he was travelling south on Teton Pass Highway which ran parallel with the Teton Range. He couldn’t believe the damage in the center of the city. Broulim’s supermarket had burned to the ground; sagging metal girders and the pristine sign standing guard over the parking lot were all that remained. Across the street the Pines Motel had also been torched. The main thoroughfare was an obstacle course of stalled cars and dead bodies, the majority of them riddled with bullet holes. The foreboding feeling that he was heading into the depths of hell was getting stronger by the minute. He drove the next fourteen miles without a zombie sighting and at Milepost 28 he discovered why. Daymon saw the shimmering black mound from a mile away. He had no idea what he was looking at until Lu Lu’s exhaust note disrupted the feeding frenzy.
