Free The Undead Situation by Eloise J. Knapp

pretty?”
    I breathed in the coppery scent of blood wafting around the Hummer, and made a note to clean it up a bit. Material objects needed to be maintained in order to function, and losing the mobile fortress would be terrible.
    My fingers felt icy cold on the steering wheel. I turned the heater on, marveling at the blood that managed to penetrate every crevice of the console. As the heat pushed out of vents, it created ripples in the red liquid.
    We drove in silence until we were a block away from the apartment. I turned the Hummer off, scanning the area. There were no zombies in sight. For an undead apocalypse in a city of thousands, there wasn’t much of a challenge around.
    Pickle climbed up the back of my seat, then on to my shoulder. I stroked her fur as I considered what route I’d take back to my place.
    I peeled the albino ferret off and placed her on the dashboard, then moved into the backseat, checking out what goods I could take on my mission. After surveying the situation, I decided to leave my carbine behind and opt for something that offered more mobility. Not wanting to be bogged down, I left my pack and took my 9mm. Before I opened the car door, I snatched a radio from the backpack and threw it at Gabe.
    Sitting on the backseat, preparing to leave, I stared at Pickle licking blood off the dash. To my right, Gabe stared out the front window, radio in hand.
    “I’d consider laying down back here, or something, so the Zs don’t see you,” I said as I slid the clip out then pushed it back in. I pulled the hammer back, checking to make sure there was a bullet in the chamber.
    “It’s not like they couldn’t get in if there were enough of them.”
    “Probably couldn’t, actually. This glass is likely bullet proof. I don’t think your pimp messes around.”
    “Listen, you fuc—”
    Before she could say anymore, I was out of the car, jogging down the street. It felt good to be truly alone again. No morally confused woman by my side.

Chapter 9
     
     
    The empty apartment was just as I had left it. Candy wrappers still on the dining room table, a candle on the living room floor. How easy would it be to just stay there? Gabe now had an arsenal in her possession, and a loaded Hummer. It’s not like I’d be leaving her to die. I could wait for Frank without anyone telling me to do otherwise.
    Then I remembered Pickle, alone in that gore stained vehicle with a lunatic. So much for staying.
    Francis wasn’t in the alleyway or on the roof. There were no signs of him in my apartment either, but I knew I had to check the hallway too. Unlocking the door took longer than I expected, but I wasn’t on a time restraint. The hallway was empty. The thudding in Apartment 8 continued.
    Sticking to the middle of the hallway, I walked down the stairs until I saw a figure in the lobby, but it wasn’t Francis. It’s thin, still body gave it away. The undead were often statuesque when unprovoked by the living. After quietly going back to my apartment and locking up, I was sure Frank hadn’t been there.
    Unwilling to write the trip off as a complete disaster, I grabbed a duffle bag from the spare room and filled it with a few remaining MREs and some ammunition we couldn’t carry the first round. It only took a few minutes, but it was worth it. I dragged it outside and tied one end of the hanging rope to it before climbing up. After pulling the bag up, I carried it across the roof. Panting from the effort of searching and packing, I took a deep breath before taking out the radio.
    “You alive?”
    “Yeah, I’m here. The coast is still clear, captain.” Gabe was belligerent as usual.
    “Okay, come get me.”
    “Hold on. I think I see—”
    The radio went silent, and I stared at the device. Had I lost Gabe already? Did someone come out of nowhere and hijack both her and the Hummer? I leaned over the roof and cast a long look up and down the alley, finding nothing.
    A few moments later, the rumbling of an engine