After quickly pulling the vehicle up next to one of the pumps farthest from the store entrance, two zombies came into view from one side of the building. Two undead aggressors had spotted the car. Other than that, the place seemed void of all activity. There were no dead in the streets and the last set of zombies they had past were more than half a mile up the road. Sure, they were probably headed toward the gas station, having followed the car, but there was time enough to get gas and get out.
Something to snack on probably wouldn’t hurt either, Chris thought.
“We need to stay quiet, you guys.” Chris calmly opened his door, popping the latch for the gas tank and stepping out.
Just as he stepped out of the backseat, Steve pulled his handgun free, aiming it at the two ghouls heading toward them. With weapon aimed, he set his sights on the closest one. Before he could pull the trigger, Chris reached up and pushed the gun down.
“What part of stay quiet did you not get? We start making a lot of racket and we’ll be surrounded,” Chris whispered looking around the lot.
“He’s right, boy.” Brady stepped out of the car. His short gray combed over hair flapped in the light wind. “Less racket, the better chance we got of gettin’ outta this.” Brady set his rifle down in the front passenger seat, and then checked the safety on his side arm. With the gun still strapped in place at the hip, he pulled out a large Bowie knife. “I’ll see about some privacy.” With the hefty blade shining against the setting sun, he skirted toward the oncoming threat. The two ghouls broke away from the building’s edge in their pursuit and started walking right at Brady. Brady quietly eased away from the car toward them.
“Hey man, I think it’s freaking sweet and all that junk. But don’t you think Rambo’s a bit old for this shit?” Steve said, pocketing his pistol. “Seriously, dude. What if the old fart has like a heart attack or something?”
Chris and Steve looked on as Brady made his way across the lot toward the two creatures.
“I’m sure he can manage. I highly doubt that if he wasn’t physically up to it, he would just take off on us like that and leave Nan behind. He seems level headed enough to me. He’s fine. Just be thankful we came across them. He’s saved our asses twice already!” Chris scanned the parking lot again in fear that others may have taken notice. He didn’t see anything. “Look, go in there and see about getting the pumps turned on, all right? I’m a better shot then you are, so I’m going to hold back and keep an eye out. Make sure things don’t get too crowded.” He pointed toward the gas station building and its scattered merchandise that was seeping through the doorway.
“Yeah, right! And go in there all by myself. Fuck that.” Steve protested and stepped aside so that Stephanie could get out of the car.
“I’ll go with you,” Stephanie sighed.
“No.” Chris said.
“Look, if he wants to be a baby about it, then I will go with him. It’s not that big a deal.”
“I am not being a baby, Stephanie. I just think that it’s not smart to go off alone.” Steve stuttered, while adjusting his eyewear.
“Brady seems to be handling himself just fine alone. No reason you can’t manage, Steve,” Chris protested. “It’s okay if you’re scared to go by yourself. I’ll go with you. Stephanie, you stick right here and watch the pump, okay?”
“Sure thing,” she said. Then without Chris’ approval and rifle in hand, she took off toward the store entrance.
“Stephanie, don’t be stupid!” Chris called out.
“Right behind you!” Steve said. He darted around the car following close behind.
“Steve…no, wait. Seriously guys…Shit!”
“She’ll be fine, dear,” Nan said, struggling to get out of the car, her robust frame not making it easy.
“Ha! It’s not Stephanie that I’m worried about.”
“Yes, it is,” she said. “I see the way you look at her.” Nan finally freed herself from the car and made it around to the pump to where Chris was standing. “And Steve’s a big boy. He may act childish, but he’s a grown man. He’ll be fine.”
“Oh yeah, so you can read people. Is that it?” Chris asked, pulling the nozzle from the pump.
“I guess you can say it’s a gift, dear. It’s called people watching. When you get to be as old as me, there ain’t much else to do. And I’m proud to say I’ve gotten pretty darn good at it too.”
Chris watched as Nan huddled tight in her jacket standing next to him. She held back a violent cough. It had cooled a lot with the sun ready to set and it was starting to get dark, but it hadn’t gotten that cold. “You all right, Nan?”
“You know, she looks at you just the same,” Nan said, dodging the question.
“Oh really, how so?” Chris grinned, but tried to hide it.
“Come now, you seem like an educated young man. Don’t play dumb. Have you thought about telling her how you feel?”
“Hey, don’t get me wrong, Nan. She is really freakin’ cute and all that, but hell we just met last night. Not to mention all this shit going on around us. Doesn’t seem like the right place or time for that matter. Besides, what the hell would I say anyway? I’d just come across like a total creep.”
“Love comes at the most inopportune times, sweetie. That’s life. Brady and me, we got married a week after we met and been married almost thirty-eight years come October. That’s right, we probably got married younger than you are now.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t dealing with the end of the fucking world either, Nan.” Chris leaned against the hood of the car, eyeing the gas station building. He couldn’t see any other movement inside other than that of his friends and was relieved having not heard any screaming or shots fired yet.
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be bold about what you’re feeling. I see it written all over your face when you look at her. You don’t want to lose her and that’s natural, honey.”
“What’s natural?” Brady walked up to the car, wiping blood from his knife onto his khaki work pants. Behind him, the two ghouls lay unmoving on the pavement. There was very little blood.
Chris was surprised as he looked over to see the two creatures immobilized. He hadn’t even heard a thing. This old fart even had stealth on his side. Chris wondered who he was and where he had gotten this training.
“Dang, man. Maybe Steve’s right. You are Rambo!”
“No, I’ve just served my time is all. Did two stints in the green, right about the time old Nan and me tied the knot.” Brady glanced down at the knife, satisfied that most of the blood had been removed. He smoothly slid the knife back into its sheath. He asked again, “What’s natural, now?”
“Chris here thinks he shouldn’t talk to that Stephanie girl cause of the circumstances.” Nan waved at the lot around them.
Brady laughed. “Son, we were in the middle of a war, for Christ sakes, when I dropped the question on old Nan here. It’s now or nothin’, boy. Hell, tomorrow you could be in the same situation as that cousin a yours, Mark, right? Knock on wood!”
Nan shook her head at Brady’s lack of sensitivity.
“Hell, if I was you, son, I’d make my move before someone else does.” Brady patted Chris firm on the shoulder to show that he didn’t mean anything by it.
“What, Steve?” Chris laughed. “Na… Steve doesn’t have a chance with Stephanie.”
“You’d be surprised, son,” Brady said. “Hard times equal vulnerable times. The better man sometimes just has to step aside. Don’t let that be you. You hear?”
Before Chris could put in his two cents about it, the gas pump let out a muffled ping, signifying that it was ready. The numbers on the dial lit up with all zeros.
“Sweet! We’re in business.” Chris eagerly started filling the car. “Think you can go check on them, man? Something to eat wouldn’t hurt either.”
Brady nodded and then started to walk away.
A shot rang out from inside the store. Before Brady even made it to the front door, Steve
stumbled out and fell to his knees. His pale chest was pouring blood from a hole, which had been punched somewhere above his heart. His eyes were wide with fear. Stephanie spilled out behind him from inside screaming bloody murder. With the rifle tightly gripped in both hands, her knuckles tensed white. Steve fell forward, slamming his face on the cement as she passed. Brady knelt down at Steve’s side. Retrieving his side arm, he checked the young man’s vitals, while eyeing the storefront for movement.
Out in the streets behind them, the gunshot and screaming had instantly attracted unwanted attention. Chris couldn’t see them at first, but he definitely heard them. Their moans glided across the wind, and Chris could tell that the dead were only blocks away. It sounded as if the noises were coming from his left, but when Chris looked back at the street in that direction, there was nothing. However, to his right, a lone figure appeared, and not far beyond that, another, and then another. If there were a different name for wildfire, then undead epidemic would be it. Because it was unbelievable how fast, they spread into view. First a few and then too many to deal with. All occurring in the matter of minutes. With five or more already closing in on the right, some started to show up on the left as well. With them came that God awful smell.
“What the hell is going on?” Chris yelled out to Brady.
“This is my place! Go find your own, you hear me?” A large burly looking man appeared at the gas station entrance. He wore overalls and was shirtless underneath. Something dark stained his pants legs and he was wearing a tattered ball cap, sporting a truck emblem on the front. Black nappy hair curled wildly past his ears from under the cap. His extremely bushy chest hair also buffed out around the top of the overalls. As he yelled, Chris saw small bits of gold in his busted up teeth from all the way across the lot. A sudden volley of two more shots rang out, which were clearly warning shots.
Brady started to stand, swiftly raising his handgun toward the man.
“Don’t even think of trying it, grandpa! I mean it. I’ll blow you away right where you stand!” The brawny man shouted. “Just go back the way you came. Now!” He jerked his gun in the air toward Brady, and Steve who wasn’t moving. “Now git!”
Stephanie ran around the car, hunkering down at Chris’ side. With a deep heaving breath, she panted. “Steve! Steve’s been shot! Oh my God, oh my God.”
“Well isn’t that just a hoot. You done gone and done it, you dumb sons a bitches!” The belligerent man guarding the door to the store eyed the incoming creatures off in the distance. Their numbers had quickly grown. “You stupid, mother fuckers. Now, how am I supposed to hide out in here, when you went and drew all of them right to me! Where the hell am I supposed to go now?” He yelled, waving his gun around at Brady, and Chris who had ducked low behind the car.
“You shot my best friend! Go to hell! Of all places to hide out, a convenience store has to be the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard!” He shouted, having been ready to do the same thing last night.
“What the hell do you know, you little punk! I’m still alive, aren’t I?”
“No, I don’t suppose you are!” From low behind the car, Chris fired his first shot. The shot would have been a hit, but the crazed man had already darted back into the confines of the store. A barrage of fire rang out from inside. Brady took the sudden opportunity to grab Steve’s limp pale body by one arm. With his back to the car and handgun drawn toward the gas station building, Brady started dragging Steve backwards, scraping his loose body across the pavement, leaving a small thin trail of blood. A little puddle remained in the place where his body had initially landed. The sound of bullets ricocheting left and right in a volley of return fire made it hard to tell who was firing the most. The frame of Stephanie’s car dented in a few sporadic locations as shots were traded. As Brady reached the car, Chris noticed that the old man hadn’t taken a single shot. The passenger side window shattered right over Brady’s head.
What the hell are you doing, Brady? Now’s not the time for an Alzheimer’s moment, Chris thought between shots. What glass in the windowpane wasn’t already broken, split simultaneously with the pull of the trigger.
A barrage of shots was returned.
“I’m out,” Stephanie shouted, after only firing a handful of times.
“Nice!” Chris kept firing, said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and he kept on firing.
Suddenly, Nan jumped back into the car and slammed the door shut. Chris ceased firing for a second and looked over his shoulder to where Nan had been standing. Beside him only a few feet away, a zombie lurched forward, stumbling its way around the pump. It reached out with hungry eyes and wide teeth. Drool slid down its cheek from its purple, busted lip. The lip drooped low like a flapping chunk of dead skin. The creature’s bottom teeth snarled even without the zombie’s grimacing smirk, the sagging lip doing the work for it. Chris jerked the pistol around, taking aim at the creature. The zombie reached out and grabbed Chris’ arm. Its cold dead hand jolted a frantic panic into Chris’ body. His body jittered with the sudden wave of trembling emotion. Chris closed his mouth and eyes to be sure he wouldn’t get any of the creature’s fluids on him, and then he turned his head away. If something as simple as a scratch were going to cause a child to turn, then surely getting any bodily fluids in the mouth or eyes would be just as deadly.
He pulled the trigger.
The ghoul’s head rocked back in a contorted squish of putrid gore. The right eye exploded with the weapon’s report. Blood and the remains of its matted eye and skull fragments sprayed across Chris’ chest, his shirt becoming covered in brain matter. The zombie slumped to the ground, confirming the kill.
This was my last clean shirt too, really? Chris looked down at his pus-covered shirt.
“Fella couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, I tell ya what!” Brady shouted. Still leaning over Steve’s body, he shouted just loud enough for Chris to hear. “Quit firin’ a sec! We need that yeller belly to show us his location.”
Just like that, he did. Chis held his fire and the man inside decided to take a chance. He quickly stepped into view to get a better shot. When he did, it was too late. Brady took his shot, and it was a done deal. The man took the bullet in the center of the throat. Blood gushed out when he attempted to scream. He fell somewhere behind the wall inside, undoubtedly to bleed to death.
The shooting stopped.
“Help me get the boy in the car,” Brady shouted.
Opening the car door on Brady’s side, Nan reached out to help pull Steve into the backseat. Around them, the dead were getting closer. It seemed as if all of downtown Beaumont had decided to visit that very spot all at once. They were coming in from out in the street, from inside nearby buildings, from behind parked cars, and from behind the gas station itself. The air around them filled with a noisy hum. It took Chris a second to realize what it was. A multitude of voices groaned out in a chorus of scratchy busted vocal cords.
“Get in the car!” Brady shouted at the top of his lungs, just as he slammed the backdoor shut. “We need to get the hell outta here!”
Chris didn’t protest. Jumping into the driver’s seat, Chris frantically waved Stephanie to get in. She stood frozen in fear, still holding her rifle tight to the chest.
Chris honked the horn, startling her back into the here and now. She jumped into the backseat with a loud scream. Only moments after closing the door and shoving the lock down, the closest ghoul collided against the window in a fiery rage. The zombie beat on the car in hopes of driving out the soft, chewy meat inside.
“What the hell are you waiting for, Chris? Drive!” Stephanie cried out, looking deep into the eyes of the grotesque figure, as it tried to break the car window. It snarled with spite and malice, its blood covered hands smearing across the glass.
The vehicle bolted forward ripping the nozzle from the pump. Chris’ foot slammed on the gas. Liquid spilled out from the pump through the busted hose as they drove off. With a violent thud and a pivot against the shocks, the
car ran down a zombie in the path. Not at all concerned for its own wellbeing, it stayed the course in relentless pursuit of those trapped inside the moving object. The zombie went flying over the hood and roof, crashing to the pavement below. Others reached the car and started pounding on the hood, but only for a moment. The car quickly passed them, heading off down the narrow road.
Behind them, Chris watched as the sea of bodies converged at the center of the gas station’s parking lot. Some continued the hunt, following the car as it grew small and smaller. Chris looked on the devastation with disgust. He watched in the rearview as a woman, uninfected, suddenly appeared at the entryway of the convenience store with a large handgun. Her attire and features highly resembled that of the man that Brady had just shot and killed. Only, she looked to be pregnant.
She must be his wife or girlfriend. He was only trying to protect her, Chris thought, aghast. Suddenly, he was filled with hatred at what he had to become in an effort to survive. If only people would band together in times like this rather than reach selfishly for their own gain. Maybe then that man and the pregnant woman would still be okay. It had become so easy to kill for luxury. Chris pounded the steering wheel in blind frustration and rage. He hated the connection. He was no better a man. All he could think of as he drove off was that the crazy guy from the store had only been trying to protect his lover, just as he would have protected his cousin if he could have, just as he had failed to protect Steve.
The woman from the store screamed and shouted. A dozen zombies fell on her before she was able to get off a single shot. Teeth gnashed and claws slashed in ravenous rage. She instantly disappeared amid a pool of putrid festering bodies.
Chris glanced over at Brady, wondering if he too had noticed it. Brady was leaned over the front seat tending to Steve, who lay in the backseat with his head in Stephanie’s lap. With his eyes on the road, Chris struggled to look at his friend. Took focused on keeping the car on the road, he didn’t know if his friend was going to make it. He cringed, gripping the wheel tighter.
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