Free The Undead Situation by Eloise J. Knapp Page B

control over our plans than her, but I was ready to let Frank call the shots for a while.
    “There’s going to be a ton of them the farther east we go,” Gabe said. She was trying to be assertive. “I’m sure your cabin is overrun by now.”
    “Only one road that leads to my place. Then it’s a full day’s hike to the cabin. We just have to skirt around a couple towns and we’re clear.”
    “What about food? Water?” Gabe continued seeking flaws in his plan. “What if we get there and run out of resources in a few weeks?”
    My thoughts went back to his home in the Ozarks. Two words: self sustaining.
    He merely chuckled.
    “I don’t think that’s an answer,” she prodded.
    Scowling, I looked back at her. “If Frank thinks the cabin is a good idea, it is. Stop your bitching.”
    Maybe it was something in my voice, because she stopped her bitching.

Chapter 10
     
     
    It had been a long time since I’d driven out of Seattle, and it was a while before I remembered the road system. Even though I had a car, I couldn’t remember the last time I actually drove it. A few memories of driving to army surplus stores came into focus, along with driving to the local docks for gun pickups. Nothing out of the ordinary for good ol’ Cyrus V. Sinclair. With the help of some interstate signs, my memory came back.
    We managed to drive another twenty minutes on I-5 North before the roads became heavily congested. Cars ranged from bumper to bumper to impassible wreckage, which forced us to use surface streets. We made it on to SR 522 East. After three hours, we arrived at our first stop, a small town called Monroe. I projected the trip would normally taken 45 minutes tops, sans apocalypse.
    The Hummer was low on gas by the time we reached the town. Roads were clear, and we glided down the off ramp into Monroe. It was late in the afternoon, but the sun was still warm and the visibility good. So far, we couldn’t see any zombies, so we took a risk and decided to fill up the tank.
    Frank maneuvered to a gas station without hitting too many cars. More noise, more zombies. The logic was flawless. Frank took the pump, while Gabe and I stood guard duty.
    “The pump is electric,” Gabe whispered to me. “How is he going to…”
    “He’s going to siphon it. Just keep your mouth shut, don’t shoot unless you have to, and watch.”
    A fat kid with huge headphones shambled out of the convenience store next to the gas pumps. His cheeks were gnawed off. It was unbelievable he still had the headphones. I wondered how long he could walk around ‘listening’ to music until his player ran out of juice. Not really caring, I shot him. Other than him, the coast was clear.
    And, sure enough, we heard gas gurgling.
    “Hey, ya’ll. We should consider getting something to put more gas in for the road. No telling when we’re gonna get another lucky chance with a gas station.”
    “There’s probably something in the store we can use. Gabe, you stay at the entrance. Frank and I’ll go in. That okay with you?”
    Frank nodded. Once the tank was full, we approached the building. The front of the store was dimly lit from the windows, but the back was pretty dark. I glanced at Frank and noticed he had no gun or flashlight.
    He caught me looking and raised a machete at his side. “In ‘Nam we didn’t have flashlights, and when we ran out of bullets…” He shrugged.
    My ears rang from the silence. The scent was surprisingly mild in the store. Back in Seattle, the scent of multiple rots was everywhere. You’d expect a gas station to be no exception. All it smelled like was stale pretzels and old pizza. The refrigerated section wasn’t bad at all. Metal shelves were only mildly disheveled. No one had come in and raped the place like they did back home. Interesting.
    We searched the small auto section and found no gas canisters or anything else of use. The only option would be to empty out pop liters and fill them back up. As Frank and I