Badass Zombie Road Trip Read Free Page B

see Disneyland, and it has always been my dream to go. I know we always stay away from California because you didn’t like living there and don’t want to go back, but I think just this once—”
    “Can’t go back,” Dale interjected.
    “What?”
    “I didn’t say anything about not liking it. I loved California. I just can’t go back.”
    “What do you mean you can’t go back?” Before Dale answered, Jonah had an idea of what the man meant. “What did you do?”
    “Nothing!” But Dale’s brooding look said otherwise.
    While the pair had been friends for over fifteen years, each had his pre-friendship life. That magic and mysterious time before time, when Jonah was friendless in Idaho and Dale was … somewhere else. Information on Dale’s Californian years was hard to obtain and even harder to confirm. Yet, based on personal experience with Dale, Jonah supposed he could sketch a plausible history steeped in youthful shenanigans and a juvenile rap sheet as long as his arm.
    Watching Dale squirm, Jonah asked, “What in the hell did you do that got you banned from a whole state?”
    Dale snorted, rolled his eyes and tossed his spoon into his chili.
    Jonah had the sinking feeling that that was all the response he was going to get on the matter. He opted for a softer approach. “Come on, big guy. You can tell me. I know you don’t like to talk about California, but it might make you feel better. I can keep a secret.”
    “It’s not a secret,” Dale said. “It’s just … it’s sort of embarrassing.”
    It took everything Jonah had not to drool. In the grand scheme of things, an embarrassing story beat a secret any day. “Come on. You know plenty of embarrassing things about me.” Which was true. “And you know a lot of my secrets.” Also true. “I trust you like I trust my own flesh and blood.” Not true. “I promise I won’t tell a soul.” Anything but true. “’Fess up. What did you do?”
    Dale pursed his lips a moment. He then opened his mouth, on the verge of confession, but before uttering a syllable, he narrowed his eyes and closed his mouth again. A quick shake of the head signaled his final answer on the matter.
    Jonah switched gears, from worry to whine. “Aww, come on. I tell you stuff all the time. You know everything about me. What’s so bad you can’t tell your best friend?”
    “First of all,” Dale said, “I never ask you to tell me anything; you just seem to think everyone wants to know your very boring life story. And secondly, I won’t tell you because you’re my best friend.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means I don’t want to burden you with it.”
    The only thing that kept Jonah from laughing aloud at this was the pure sincerity in Dale’s voice. The man was never serious about anything. This earnest attempt at benevolence had the opposite effect on Jonah. Now he really had to know. “But that’s what I’m here for—”
    “Not this time,” Dale said over his plea. “Not this, Jonah. No one else needs to worry about this.”
    “Dale—”
    “Man, just let it go, already!”
    The entire restaurant fell quiet in the echo of Dale’s outburst. Jonah grew acutely aware of the pressure of many eyes upon his person, as everyone in the place looked their way. But the men ignored the crowd, and each other. Slowly, the restaurant filled with hushed whispers about the argument. A waitress came to refill Jonah’s coffee without uttering a word. She didn’t have to. Her sideways glance and tight-lipped grin said everything she didn’t.
    At length, Dale cleared his throat. “I left a lot of demons behind in Cali, okay? Demons I don’t want to face again.” His voice dropped to a near whisper as he added, “Demons I can’t face again.”
    Jonah opened his mouth to ask why, but before he could, Dale cut him off.
    “Don’t ask why,” Dale said. His eyes glistened with moisture that couldn’t be tears, because everyone knew Dale Jenkins never cried.