Free Undead 02 The Undead Haze by Eloise J. Knapp Page A

few more bites of soup before realizing I’d eaten half a huge can. If I kept going I’d puke from food-overload. With a feeling of resignation I stopped, took a drink of the pear syrup, and carried my cans to the stair landing. It was cold enough there that the goods would keep.
    My stomach felt heavy and sleepiness came over me. I basked in my layers of sweatshirts as I trekked towards the bathroom, where Beau said he left all his hygiene products. Once I arrived, I couldn’t help but get a little excited. There was a bucket of melted snow by one of the sinks and an array of items: shaving cream and razor, scissors, and some kind of bath tissue wipe.
    I wasted no time in making myself look like a human being again.
    My name is Cyrus V. Sinclair. You might already know the V stands for vain.
     
    * * *
     
    After a restful night’s sleep, Beau and I decided it was time to check out the truck. I felt like myself once more, with only a lingering sense of illness.
    Beau opted for his heavy lead pipe and I took Barbara. If we did end up having to take out an undead, the quieter the better.
    The storm messed up the virginal snow, leaving muddy brown slush in its wake. Water dripped from eaves and trees. Trash and other debris gathered in areas the wind had pushed it to.
    Yesterday Beau broke one of the locks in the loading bay. It couldn’t be relocked, but since the barrier was pulled to the ground I didn’t worry.
    “You stand guard while I get the truck going,” he said. “Once it’s running, jump in and we’ll head over to the loading bay and I’ll lift the door.”
    “You can’t lift the doors by yourself, not without using the crank. I’ll get out, too. Just lift it enough for me to get under and I’ll manually raise it.”
    Beau nodded. “Once you’re under, I’ll drive in. Let the door drop.”
    The plan was in place.
    Easy.
     
    * * *
     
    Why didn’t it shock me? Because I was used to disappointments.
    Beau turned the engine, but the truck wouldn’t start. I heard a series of clicks each time he tried. If that meant the battery was dead, I wasn’t sure what we’d do.
    It was cold and wet outside. I scanned the area for any threats. Didn’t see any stiffs, but that didn’t lessen my anxiety. They were there. Somewhere.
    Feeling desperately exposed, I moved closer and hissed, “The longer we wait—”
    “Just a second. I’m going to try something.”
    He slid out of the vehicle and ran to the hood. I didn’t know a damn thing about mechanics so I kept on the lookout, waiting to hear the engine roar.
    It felt like hours, but then Buford climbed in the front seat and the engine cranked.
    “Hallelujah,” I muttered, jogging around the truck to the passenger side. My footsteps sounded too loud for my liking. Until I was safe inside Rainer, everything was going to be too noisy or too risky. Gripping Barbara, I kept listening for nearby moans.
    “Half a tank of gas,” Beau said as he jerked the truck into drive and did a broad turn toward the loading dock. “We’re in good shape.”
    “We’ll be in good shape once we’re on the road,” I contradicted, just for the sake of it. Truth be told, we were in good shape. Truck was running, we were nearing the loading dock…
    “Look.” Buford gritted his teeth, tilting his head to his left. “Two of them.”
    I leaned forward and glanced out the window. Sure enough, two mobile rotbags were coming toward us. One was in a tattered uniform, possibly army, the other was a male wearing civilian clothes. They were coming from around Rainer and would reach our truck soon.
    “Take them out?” I asked. “Or should we just rush?”
    “No time,” he said as we came to a halt in front of the loading bay door. “You take the uniform, I’ll get the other one.”
    Once the truck stopped we jumped out, melee weapons in hand. I broke into a jog, intending to go for the uniformed Z, but catching the attention of the other one. I veered to the left,