Free Brian Keene by The Rising Page B

Jim. I wish I did. One thing I can tell you is that God does have the answers, and with his strength, we will win the day. We will save your son!"
    Jim nodded in acceptance, and turned back to the atlas. Inside, he wished he could believe it.
    An hour later, they were ready, and sat discussing the plan one last time.
    "I still think we should avoid any population centers," Martin said.
    "The more people that lived in a town, the more zombies there probably are in that area. Let's stick to the back roads."
    "I agree," Jim conceded, "and if it was just you and me, I'd say we head higher up into the mountains. But the longer we take, the less chance Danny has. Other than the Appalachians, the whole East Coast is pretty much one big population center. At least on the Interstate, we can avoid going through the center of any town, large or small. If these things are on the move, and driving in numbers, we'll have a better chance outrunning them on an Interstate I'm familiar with, rather than some winding back road."
    "So," he continued, "we hit the Chevy dealership, get us a vehicle, and see what kind of attention we've attracted. If we don't have company, we do a quick stop at the Super Mart next door, stock up in the sporting goods section, and then we're on the road. Sound good?"
    "Not really," Martin grinned, "but I've got nothing better." Jim smiled back. "Let's go."
    They walked to the door, moved the pew aside, undid
    71 the bolts and peered out into the night.
    The street was empty.
    Stealthily, they made their way across the street and slipped into the Page 53
    shadows. Martin led the way, and Jim was surprised at the older man's stamina and speed. They crept between houses, careful to stay out of the moonlight and the few scattered areas where the automatic streetlights still worked. Martin led him through backyards, a small urban woodland, around a baseball diamond, and through a culvert.
    Occasionally they spotted or heard the undead, but were careful to stay hidden until the danger had passed.
    Finally, upon exiting a cornfield, they reached the car lot. The dealership shared the highway exit with a strip mall and several fast food restaurants. Ghostly sodium lights bathed the parking lots in a yellow glow.
    "Looks deserted," Martin whispered. "Do you think it's safe?"
    "I don't think anything's safe anymore, Reverend," Jim said grimly, "but we've got no choice."
    Crouching between the rows of new vehicles, they crept across the lot. A few of the cars showed signs of vandalism-a smashed windshield, several slashed tires; but most still looked brand new. Banners and stickers in the windshields promised o% FINANCING and warned TWO-DAKS ONLY!!, begging them to TAKE ME HOME TODAY.
    A black Suburban caught Jim's eye.
    "How about this one?"
    "I reckon that should do us just fine," Martin agreed. "But how do you plan to get us going?"
    "Follow me and I'll show you," Jim told him. "My friend Mike used to sell cars. They usually keep the keys in one location." Jim stood quietly for a full minute, memorizing the Vin number on the sticker by repeating it over and over to himself. Then they walked toward the showroom. Something hissed behind them. Something else
    72 joined in. Then several more.
    "What the hell?"
    They turned, and with a howl, something small and black and furry launched itself at them. They stumbled backward, pressing against the garage doors, and the blast from Martin's shotgun cut the leaping cat in half.
    Three more undead felines crept forward. Their fur was matted with dried blood and gore. One's entrails dragged uselessly along behind it. Page 54
    The feline zombies leaned back on their haunches, preparing to jump. Martin stared in disbelief.
    "They're cats!"
    "They're zombies, Martin! Shoot the fuckers!" They opened fire, dropping two where they crouched. Spitting with rage, the third ran beneath a car and darted out the other side. Martin fired after it, but Jim held up a hand and stopped him.
    "Forget