Here's part 1 of the scene I was working up to. Just this evening, I finally looked up the model and specs on the SUV used at the end of the film. When I try to put this mess together, major rewrites will be in order. For now, enjoy!
Columbus looked more anxious than usual as Wichita pulled into the station; most obviously, he was chewing on both ends of his jacket's drawstrings. They were close to LA again, and back where the zombies were dense enough to coalesce into a swarm on short notice. Wichita got out with her Mossberg at ready. Tal grabbed hold of the gun and shouted: "Whoa! What are you doing?"
"What, are you for gun control all of a sudden?" Wichita said.
"In case you didn't notice, we aren't exactly in a shooting range here! We're standing next to a gas pump, and underneath us are big underground storage tanks. Those things are touchy even when they're empty, you know! So leave the * gun in the * car!"
"All right," Wichita said, laying the shotgun beside the steering wheel. "Columbus- Columbus!" He started in surprise. Wichita leaned a little closer, boring into him with a gaze that wavered between concern and irritation. "I said, get out and help me fill the jerry cans!"
"Yeah, I'm coming," he said, sounding distracted and distant. Wichita sighed and slammed the door. He flinched at the sound, but was more distressed by sudden words from the Voice that was in but not of his head: "This is it. This is when they all die. Again."
The jerry cans were something Tal, whose normally practical temperament was compromised by a soft spot for automotive gadgets, had found and insisted upon carrying. The Yukon SUV, whose features defied any factory specs, had a 31-gallon tank and a hybrid engine that gave 20 miles to the gallon. They did not need the five-gallon cans, any more than a sumo wrestler needed a lifetime subscription to Cheesecake of the Month. It had taken more than 400 miles of travel north and south again before they even needed to stop for gas. But Tal had insisted on picking up six of the things, and now he and Columbus had to pull them down from the luggage rack for filling. "I think the gas station could run out of fuel before we fill up," Little Rock said.
Tal handed the first can down to Columbus, and he handed it back up (with difficulty) when Wichita was done filling it. Columbus was okay until Wichita started filling the third can. He did not quite have it steady, and when she tried to start filling it gas splashed on the ground. The sound and the smell was enough to send him back...
There had been nothing he could have done. Even the Voice had never told him different. He had been at the wheel. He could have waited to help those who trusted him. But he had heard the shots, seen the swarm advancing from all directions, gone dizzy from the fumes as gas gushed from the pump like blood from a severed artery. There had been no time for him to do anything except stomp the accelerator. Even then he had barely escaped with his life. For a good while, he had wished he hadn't. "Well, you will get your wish sooner or later," said the Voice. "Oh, it probably won't be your fault. But the people you saved will die, and the only thing you will be able to do about it is die along with them. If there's really Someone to audit your accounts when you check out, the verdict will be that you might as well have never lived."
Go to hell, he thought as he took the fourth can from Tal. The voice chuckled as he struggled to position the can under Wichita's increasingly stymied gaze. "I'm not going anywhere you aren't. Do we still need to go over this? And what makes you think even Hell is good enough for you? Remember Inferno, and the souls in Limbo: `Those nearly soulless, whose lives concluded neither blame nor praise...Scourged from Heaven, and Hell cannot receive them since the wicked might feel some glory over them... And in their blind unattaining state, they must envy every other fate.'"
He staggered as he heaved the fifth, filled can just high enough for Tal to take it the rest of the way. Wichita swore and took hold of him by the shoulders, concern vying with contempt on her face. "What the hell's wrong with you?" she shouted.
"I... think I need to sit down," he said. She guided him around to the front seat.
"Turn the stereo or the DVD player on," she said. "Or just lie back and go to sleep. Just- please- You're stronger than this. I think you could be stronger than all of us. You can't be strong all the time, but all you need to be there again is to rest and clear your head. Please remember that."
"Now there," said the Voice, "goes a young lady too sweet to live."
Little Rock manned the pump to fill the final can. Once Wichita handed the can up to Tal, she sent him and her sister to look for food in the gas station while she finished filling the tank itself. "Well. Here we are again," said the Voice. He clenched his eyes shut. The Voice needled, "Are you sure that's a good idea?" He opened one eye, to see the first of a zombie pack rushing for the vehicle.
