Free Zombies! A Love Story by MAGGIE SHAYNE Page B

and looked over the side. “No. There should be a pump or something. Probably there are controls in the truck.”
    I climbed back inside, started the truck’s engine again, and searched the control panel, which, to me, looked like the dashboard of a fighter jet, it had so many knobs and switches. But I finally found a red one labeled “Pump” and turned it on.
    The truck grew noisier, and when I jumped down I saw the hose expanding. “It’s working!”
    “Yeah, it is!” Chuck said. Unfortunately, it looked like he’d have to stand there and hold onto the hose until the truck emptied itself, or the tank was filled, whichever came first.
    “This is taking too long. It’s taking too long.” Reynolds sank to the ground beside the truck, leaning back against a tire. “I don’t think I have much longer.”
    I sensed movement, and spun toward the house just as a gunshot came out of nowhere. It blasted a hole in the top of the tank right where Chuck was standing. He flinched, but held on, and I leveled my rifle and damn near nailed old man Hastings before I recognized him.
    “What the hell are you shooting at us for! We’re trying to save your ass here!” I shouted at the old coot.
    Hastings swung his shotgun my way, saw the size of the rifle, and apparently didn’t realize it was an air gun. Thankfully, he didn’t shoot me. He didn’t put his gun down either. “What the hell are you doin’ out there?” he demanded.
    “Saving the world, Mr. Hastings. Now put the gun down or I swear to God–”
    He lowered the shotgun. I heard something behind me, glanced that way. The dead woman, shuffling closer, reaching for me, groaning.
    Then I felt something breathing down my neck and damn near jumped outta my skin.
    Reynolds, right behind me.
    He yanked my handgun from the back of my pants and popped the zombie chick between the eyes. She dropped like a sack of feed.
    “Chuck, they’ve caught up to us. Is that thing almost full?”
    “Full enough.”
    I ran to the truck and shut off the pump, then closed the valve and disconnected the hose. Farmer Hastings had come closer to us, and was gaping at the blue tinted creatures dragging their feet slowly toward us. Some had been run over. Some had been half devoured before they’d awakened as whatever they now were. “Pick your gun back up, Mr. Hastings. Those things will kill us if they can.”
    “I know. We had run-ins already. Didn’t know there were so many of them.”
    “Milton? You all right out there?” Mrs. Hastings was coming toward her husband from the house now.
    “Fine, Em. Go on back inside.”
    “No, don’t.” I said. “Who else is still alive here?”
    “Still alive? You say that like–”
    “Most of the people in town are dead, Mr. Hastings,” I told him. “I left the only survivors I know of on the roof of the bank in town, including my mother and Chief Mallory. Now how many?”
    “Just Em and me.” He waved her out, and she came, graying red curls, floral print sleeveless dress, pink crocs on her feet, and a shotgun cradled in her arms.
    “You have a vehicle nearby?”
    “Pickup,” Mr. Hastings said, nodding.
    “We’re gonna need it. I want you take your wife and your guns, and drive your truck out to the corner of Baker and Oak. Right near the edge of the Sonatta potato field. Can you do that, and wait for us there?”
    “Could, I s’pose,” he said.
    “Mr. Hastings, if you don’t, we’ll be dead. I’m not kidding.”
    His wife put a hand on his arm. “We’ll be there. But don’t be long. Come on, Milt. Those things–”
    “Be real quiet,” I told her. “They’re attracted to noise. We’re gonna make a lot of it, so they should be coming toward us, and away from you. Just sit tight and please don’t leave us unless you have to.”
    The two nodded, and as three more creeps got within twenty feet of us, they ran for their pickup. I headed for the gas truck. Chuck climbed down from the irrigation tank, and hit a switch