Chapter Three
Fuel for Thought

"I'm almost out of gas."

Rachel's voice startled Abby. It was the first the woman had spoken since her minor breakdown into hysteria. Abby herself hadn't said a word except, "Drive around them," when they came across another one of the stumbling cannibal people wandering in the road.

"We'll have to stop then." Abby said. "Find some."

"Think a gas station will even be open?" Rachel asked.

"Have to try." Was all Abby could suggest. She hadn't been paying too much attention, but she thought they might have passed one of those signs that said a town was coming up in a few miles.

It was really dark. They'd been driving for nearly an hour, slow and steady, but she hadn't seen a single light anywhere they passed. Even the houses that were scattered about weren't lit up. No floodlights, no windows glowing. Nothing. The power was out.

There were a few more houses on the road, closer together and Abby was watching closely as they passed through a half-assed attempt at a town, coming up on a gas station that was just as dark as everywhere else they'd passed.

"What now?" Rachel asked, slowing almost to a stop as she leaned over to stare at the darkened building.

"Pull in. Won't hurt to check." Abby answered shortly and Rachel did just that. The sedan that had been following them pulled to a stop as well, staying out of the small pull-around and idling in the middle of the street.

It was one of those back-woods gas stations that made outsiders think of horror movies, one's with those old single-stall pumps and white-washed metal siding. There were signs for beer and bait, some local made jerky and a 'beware of owner' warning sign. A truck was pulled in on the side of the store and Abby hoped that meant someone was manning the place, even if the power was out. It wasn't like life just stopped when the electricity cut out, after all.

"I'll go check if anyone's in there." Abby said, and her voice was even despite the fact that her heart was already trying to spring out of her chest. She barely hesitated before unlocking the door and swinging it open, though she did freeze just as soon as the sounds from outside caught up to them without the sound of the engine blocking them out.

Faint, distant – those were gunshots. Abby strained her ears, breath hitching. There was a long minute of silence before more were heard. They were coming from somewhere off to her right, a good distance away but not so far as to not scare her after everything she'd seen that night.

"We'll make this quick." Abby muttered, floundering for a minute on what to do with her pistol. Last thing she wanted was to get shot or arrested for armed robbery or something. Feeling stupid, she snatched her bag out of the floorboards and slipped the pistol down the back pouch, draping over her shoulder but decided against that, instead pulling it back out and taking the time to find the holster. She had to struggle to clip it onto the band of her cargo pants because she wasn't wearing a belt, but once it was there her gun slid easily into place. She didn't both tucking her shirt over it.

A glance up showed Rachel watching her stoically before she turned away from the safety of the car and walked slowly towards the darkened store front. The brightness of the headlights was the only thing lighting the area. She hesitated before bracing herself and pulling the handle.

The door rattled, but didn't budge. Locked.

"Hello?" Abby knocked lightly on the door, cupping her hands to the glass and sticking her face close to try and see past the blurred reflection shining off the glass. "Anyone in there?"

There was someone, moving around one of the shelves with slow jerking strides that made her want to run, but that wasn't fair. For all she knew it was just a limp. It was just a limp, but no matter how she told herself she was still watching the jerky motions with growing fear as the person got closer, bee-lining straight for where she was pressed against the door and walking face-first into it. She leapt back, pulling her pistol as she backed away from the door and the smears of blood getting spread across the glass from the man that was trying to bite at her. The door rattled with each movement, and she turned in a tight circle to scan all around the area before she made her way back to the still open car door.

"We have to find somewhere else." Abby huffed, shutting the door firmly and making sure it was locked. "There was one of them in there."

"I won't make it far – do you know how far it is to the next gas station?"

"Doesn't have to be a gas station – just find some place with a few cars that's kind of open. We'll get gas that way."

Rachel didn't say anything to that, just obediently pulled out of the small parking lot and turned back on the main road.

"I'm going through your stuff." Abby warned before she found the lever to drop the back of the seat into a laying position and started crawling into the back seat. Rachel didn't question her motives at all. Maybe she was in shock.

Regardless, Abby flicked on her dinky flashlight and started fishing around in the back seat.

It was very clean, which made it much easier to determine that there wasn't anything useful there. Further back in the little SUV was just as neat and a little more fruitful. There was a little emergency roadside kit that had a couple of flares and a little first-aid kit. There was a bottle jack, with one of those separate handles that might make a good impromptu weapon if needed. Same with the four-way lug wrench, though it would be awkward.

"Might be wishful thinking, but I don't suppose you carry a gun or have a machete or ax stashed somewhere back here?" Abby questioned as she moved her way back up to the passenger seat with her small pile of loot.

Rachel laughed weakly. "No. I don't – my husband always harps on me for it. I have a .45 at my place, but I don't carry it. Never have."

Abby nodded. "Hope the man back there has something."

Rachel shook her head and it was only the continued over-bright of the LED lights shining through the back window that allowed Abby to spot the movement before she turned her eyes back to watch where they were going.

"There. Right there where those trucks are parked." It was a small church and there were three trucks in the parking lot, a small beat up car rolled up on the curb. "We'll check those for gas."

"We're going to steal someone else's gas?" But she was slowing to a stop regardless.

"If these people were still around to need it, they'd probably be gone already." Abby said brusquely, though she wasn't entirely convinced of that. They could just as easily be holed up in that church right there. She wasn't going to dwell on it too hard. "Don't pull into the lot. Just stop on the road. If it's bad we want to be able to get on the road fast."

The car stopped completely, the engine cutting out as Rachel turned off the ignition. "Do you have a decent flashlight?"

"Glove box." Rachel answered shortly.

"Right." Abby popped open the vinyl compartment, snatching up the little flashlight there and clicking the button to test it. It was much brighter than her dinky little keychain. "Good. You waiting here or…?"

"I'll come with you. It's my car, I should help."

"Awesome." Abby passed over the lever from the jack. "It'll work as a whacking stick. Sort of."

The woman stared at her, dark eyes wide and scared. She took the bar, her hand shaking but she didn't hesitate before unlocking the door and swinging it open. Abby was out a second later, revolver at the ready.

"What are you doing?" The sedan was pulled up right behind them, those damn headlights still on.

"Cut the lights. Jesus-fucking-Christ!" Abby snapped. "We need gas."

The headlights went off a second later and it took several seconds of furious blinking to get her eyes somewhat adjusted. She could see the partially rolled down window and approached the driver's door so she wouldn't have to shout.

"You seem to have an idea of what's happening." Abby stated bluntly.

"I watch the news," was the short, clipped answer. "They're everywhere. I was trying to get to the quarantine zone in Springfield. They've set up a safe-zone. We need to find a way to get there."

"But what's happening? I mean – what exactly is going on with these people? Why are they…" She waved a hand at nothing, hoping it got the message across.

"I don't know. All I know is what I saw on the news before the power went out this morning. People are infected with something, something that turns them crazy. They just attack anything that moves, start eating anything they can get a hold of. Animals, people – they'll eat them. They were warning people to quarantine anyone who got a bite or scratch from one of them. That's all I know."

Abby scowled. That was hardly anything, but she didn't want to waste any more time trying to wheedle information out of him. If he did know something else he'd share it eventually.

"We have to get to the refuge." He repeated and that had Abby rolling her eyes.

"There's no way in hell I'm going someplace with that many people when there's some sort of super rabies going around turning people into feral cannibals. Could you imagine that clusterfuck? Plus, there ain't no way in hell they'd let us have any weapons in a refugee camp. We'd just be sitting there, surrounded by thousands of people. What happens if they miss someone? What if it breaks out there? I'd rather take my chances out in the boonies where there's only a few of them."

"They're probably screening people." The man argued. Abby didn't answer him, instead leaning to the side a bit and speaking into the car. "You kids doing okay? You hurt?"

There was silence for a few second, and a quiet voice finally floated back to her, "They ate our mom."

Abby swallowed. She had no idea what in the seven hells she was supposed to say to that. There wasn't anything to say to that. Instead, she nodded at Rachel and crept towards the parking lot where there would hopefully be a jackpot of gasoline.

"What do you think?"

Rachel didn't respond immediately and for a moment Abby didn't think she would.

"I think I'd like to stick with you, if that's okay."

Abby kept quiet for a bit after that, slowly making her way around the unmoving vehicles to make sure it was clear. She didn't see anything moving. Quickly, she started scanning the first truck-bed for a gas can or something she could use to ferry fuel the short distance to Rachel's rig.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you want to stick with me?" Abby asked patiently, stepping up on a tire to get a good view into the bed of the one-ton. "Not that I'm saying I won't take you along where I'm going. Just – why?"

"Oh. You seem... I get the impression you know what you're doing." Rachel explained.

"I don't." Abby answered quickly, jumping back to the ground after surveying the empty truck-bed. There might be something in the cab, but it was a newer truck and she didn't want to set off the alarm and make that sort of noise. She did take a second to flip back the flap on the gas-tank and make sure the cap read 'unleaded fuel only.' The next truck was a Chevy, probably a late nineties model and almost identical to one of the junkers her dad had sitting in the yard with a blown engine.

There was a bunch of crap in the bed. A lot of crumbled tree bark, pieces of barbed-wire, and a couple chunks of plywood. Nuzzled in the corner of the bed was a dinky little one gallon gas can that sloshed when she picked it up. She wasn't going to put it in the car though, because it was up next to a chainsaw and was probably laced with two-stroke oil. It wasn't much of a waste, though. A half-gallon wouldn't have gotten them far anyways. But it did give them something to siphon fuel into if they could find a tube that was long enough.

The flashlight reflected off the window too much to see inside, but Abby was pretty certain the cab was clear. The door was stiff, creaky and she winced at it. Jackpot – there was another gas-can in the floorboard. It was empty, but the five-gallon-can would mean a lot less back and forth once they got at the fuel.

Some more rummaging got her a half-pack of cheap cigarettes that found a new home in her pocket and a hunting knife moved from the dash to her pocket. There might have been more, but it was hard to tell with the heaps of trash and the empty soda-cans were making too much noise for her comfort.

"Can I help?"

Abby jumped, already whipping around to point her gun at the unexpected voice at the front of the truck, jerking it off line just as soon as she saw the lanky boy standing there with his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

The kid lifted his chin, defiant and shook his slightly too long hair out of his face. "You're supposed to be paying attention. It's not my fault you weren't doing your job."

Abby snorted, "It's not like you can talk considering you were trapped on top of a truck and screaming like a girl."

"That was my sister!"

"Keep your voice down." Rachel hissed. "Both of you."

Abby sucked in a breath, irritation still hot and heavy in her chest. Her voice was barely above a whisper, "We don't need help. Go back to the car."

"You're not the boss of me. Besides, the cranky guy sent me out here to tell you two to hurry up. He wants to get back on the road."

Abby forced a deep breath, but ignored the brat as she set the pilfered gas tank on the ground and headed for the last truck still in the parking lot. It was a small one, and there wasn't anything in the bed except a few dead leaves and cigarette butts. She went to open the door and stumbled back in shock when something slammed against the window. She lifted her gun and fired, the bang echoing and the glass shattering. High pitched yelping cut through the sudden silence afterwards and Abby shone the light into the cab. There was a god damned Yorkshire in the cab, trembling at the far end of the seat and completely unharmed.

Unless scared to death counted as harmed – then they were both in pretty bad shape, she'd guess. Her heart was racing so fast from the scare she was surprised she was still conscious, in all honesty.

The dog had been in there for a while. She could smell the shit and piss. Abby didn't give it another glance as she headed back towards the biggest truck in the lot, snatching up the gas tank on the way. She purposely didn't look at Rachel or the little snot nose as she dropped to the ground under the truck, tucking her gun into the holster at her waist. She hadn't found a hose or anything to stick down in the gas-tank to try and siphon out the gas, so she was going to have to get the fuel some other way. The big truck was tall enough, had a lift-kit. There was enough room to slide the can under it if she removed the nozzle. Once it was there, she took the knife and started sawing at the fuel line that led from the gas cap to the tank.

It took a couple minutes and she got a face full of gasoline, but soon the hollow, thud-splash echoing in the container made it all worth it.

She heard footsteps and peaked out from the car to shine the light where they were coming from. So that was Mr. Sedan Man, huh? He was kind of pudgy, the pits of his button up shirt were soaked through and his half-bald head was sopping wet. There was someone else behind him, a girl that might have been fifteen or so. She looked awkward, all gangly and thin and her she blond hair looked fried from too much hair dye and hot irons. She had her arms crossed tightly across her chest and remained silent as she wandered straight past, probably towards wherever her brother was lingering.

"What is taking so long?" Mr. Sedan Man demanded.

"I'm sorry. I left my professional gas stealing kit at home. Have to improvise and that takes longer." Abby snapped back.

"This is pointless. I've got room in my car – let's just go."

"Problem is, we're not going to the same place." Abby turned the flashlight back to the gas can, humming in approval that the gas was still coming steady. Someone had a full tank before she got to it, otherwise it wouldn't be letting off as much as it was.

"Excuse me?"

"You're going to go hole up at a refugee camp. I am going home. You see where that's a problem?" She slid out from under the truck enough to sit up. "We're fine right now. We're almost done. Stop fretting."

"If we're fine, why did you shoot?"

Abby winced. "Thought it there was a feral in the truck."

"It's a dog." The boy was yelling, though she supposed it was far too late to worry about keeping quiet after she had already made so much noise by literally jumping the gun.

"Get back over here. Don't go wandering off on your own like that!" Abby yelled back. "We're still in the middle of a crisis, you know?"

She didn't get a response, but thought she might have heard him grumbling, "…not the boss of me."

"Brat." She ducked under the truck, nudging the can and dragging it back out since there was plenty of weight to it. It was maybe three-quarters full, but the flow of gas was slowing way down and it wouldn't be worth the time it would take to catch the last dregs of what was leaking out. It would have to do.

She twisted the nozzle back on, heaving to her feet and clenching the flashlight in her teeth so she could use both hands on the heavy can. A glance showed the two kids waiting halfway back towards the car, that stupid little Yorkshire cradled in the boys arms and she'd have words with him about responsibility and strays at some point, but she was more concerned with the loping, ambling figures she could just barely make out coming up from the opposite side of the street where they were parked.

"Fuck." She tried to say, but the flashlight was still in her mouth and it came out more like a really breathy, "huck."

Mr. Sedan Man was still scowling at her, but Rachel had followed her gaze and was whimpering quietly beside her. Abby pushed the gas can towards her, pressing it into her gut until she took it. With her hand free, she was able to spit out the flashlight and draw her revolver. "Right. So… I guess I'll keep them off your back while you fill her up?"

Rachel nodded and Mr. Sedan Man finally noticed the creepers getting closer. He squeaked, and went running back to his car.

"Wait!"

He was already there, was trying to pry open the nearest handle but he must have locked himself out and they were closing in on him. The kids were rushing back towards her, slipping behind her and Rachel when they'd crossed the short distance even as Mr. Sedan Man gave up on his car and started running back down the road. The ambling menaces were following him, both of them. A shuffling behind them made Abby whip around and there was another one ambling out from around the side of the church.

"Go. Get in the car." She pushed the kids towards Rachel's hatchback and started nudging her along to. "Get the gas in the tank. I've got your back. Get as much in as you can."

She stayed back, steeling herself and marching straight towards the creepy, feral little beasty that was groaning with the same guttural sounds the other had made. It raised its arms as she got closer, and it took every ounce of steel in her blood to close the distance enough to put her pistol to its head and pull the trigger. It went down with the first bullet and it was only after it worked that she realized she would have been shit-out-of-luck if it hadn't because she'd been right up in the its grasp.

"Lady! Hey! There's more of them!"

Abby turned back to the car, and that little snot was still outside the car. Rachel was pouring the gas, craning her neck in every direction as she struggled to keep the gas can tilted up enough.

The boy was pointing off to her left and another two were coming from the side of the building. Fuck.

"How you doing on that gas, Rachel?"

"Half done!" Rachel called back.

A third one emerged and Abby started backing towards the car. "Stash it in the car. We need to leave."

There was another one and as she scanned she could see at least two more moving in. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She didn't have enough bullets for this shit.

"We're good!" Rachel called and Abby sprinted back to the car, slamming herself in the passenger seat even as the car started up. The tires squealed as Rachel flipped the car around.

"What are you doing?" Abby hollered, a death-grip on the oh-shit bar bolted above the door.

"We can't just leave him!" Rachel snapped.

"He left us first! And now he's right there getting munched on like stale popcorn so it's too late and we need to turn around right now or we're never going to get somewhere safe. So please, please, please turn us the fuck around and get us out of here." Abby gasped in a breath after the plea, staring straight ahead at what was left of Mr. Sedan Man getting shredded by three ferals, gagging as they buried their faces to his torn up gut. Rachel flipped around again, hard and fast and she almost hit one of the beasts when she ran up on the curb before she righted the car out and they were tearing off. There were more of them wandering out by then, at least a dozen and they were all shuffling on with the same, mindless purpose that they all seemed to have.

The car lurched forward and within a few seconds the ferals were all out of sight, but certainly not out of mind as they raced off down the dark highway.

AN: Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear thoughts and whatnot, constructive criticism, feedback. New chapter will be up every Tuesday.