Free 'Til Death Do Us Part by Mark Tufo Page A

s what it said when we left. ”
    “ Then maybe you shoul d find a place to get some. Did I really need to point that out? ” Mrs. Deneaux said opening her other eye.
    “ Maybe if we ’ re real lucky some gas will spill on you , and the next time you light a cigarette , the world will find itself a slightly better place, ” BT said turning to face her.
    She lit another cigarette in response.
    “ Come on , BT , we ’ re all we have left, ” Gary said , trying to make peace.
    BT wanted to tell him ‘ And ain ’ t that a shame. ’ But he could tell the elder Talbot was already hurting enough. He wouldn ’ t swear it on a stack of bibles , but he thought he had seen Deneaux stick her tongue at him as he turned back towards the front. “ Bitch ,” h e mumbled.
    Gary pulled off the highway. BT made sure his rifle was fully loaded as did Deneaux with her pistol . Gas stations , for some reason , tended to be a hot bed of zombie activity.
    “ Should we siphon some gas or just find another car? ” BT asked as they pulled into the service lot.
    “ Find another car? ” Gary asked. “ Really? ”
    “ Oh you can ’ t be serious? ” BT asked back. “ You like this car. This car was a pile of steaming crap when it left the factory . They should have saved the metal and made waste baskets. ”
    “ I ’ m kind of attached to it now, ” Gary s aid as he patted the dash board where it instantly cracked as a result of dry rot and ministrations of the driver.
    “ Yeah she ’ s a beauty, ” BT said sarcastically.
    “ Well I think she ’ s a darling little car, ” Mrs. Deneaux said as she hunted for an ally.
    Gary pulled up to a pump.
    “ What are you doing? ” BT asked.
    “ Getting gas, what does it look like I ’ m doing? ”
    “ Do you think maybe you can have the attendant check the oil , too? ”
    “ What ’ s the matter with you , BT, they haven ’ t done that in years, ” Gary told him. “ Oh. ” The light of recognition coming across Gary ’ s visage. “ The pumps aren ’ t working, sorry just habit. ” Gary was about to start the car up.
    “ Don ’ t worry about it, we ’ ll just find a can and get some gas, let ’ s try to find a screwdriver , too, the last time I siphoned gas , I drank abo ut a quart of it, ” BT said.
    “ What ’ s the screwdriver for? ” Gary asked.
    “ Gonna punch a hole in the fuel tank and just let it drain into the can. ”
    “ Kind of wasteful isn ’ t it? ” Gary asked.
    “ You plan on coming back this way again ? ”
    “ Maybe … if not to bury my brother than at least to say goodbye properly. ”
    “ Sorry , man, ” BT said meaning it. “ We ’ ll find a few cans and make sure we get it all. ”
    “ Probably s hould have left the car running, ” Gary said as they cautiously walked towards the front of the service station.
    Mrs. Deneaux exited the car and was leaning with her back against it. S he arched her back, her long aristocratic nose fully turned towards the heavens.
    The store had been completely ransacked ; what wasn ’ t gone off the shelves had been torn into by rats if the droppings were to be believed. Alt hough they were some industrial- sized rats , Gary thought.
    “ I hate this part, ” Gary said as they made their way over towards the far side of the store. “ Okay , I ’ m going to pull this door open and then get out of the way. You shoot whatever is on the other side. ” Gary got ready to open the storeroom door.
    “ Ready when you are, ” BT said.
    Gary pulled hard, his hand slipping off of the handle, the door didn ’ t move. “ Shit… it ’ s locked. ”
    BT smiled.
    “ Should I kick it in? ” Gary asked.
    “ I don ’ t think that ’ ll be necessary, ” BT said as he twisted the handle and pushed the door open. The door swung effortlessly inward s, BT stepped back, it was too dark inside the small room to see anything.
    “ I could have done that, ” Gary said trying to salvage some face.
    “ I know, it