Chapter 12 #2
The truck ran low on fuel that afternoon, but both Allie and Cam were prepared for it and stopped when they reached a smallish town, entering through a side street without a Welcome to Town Name! sign.
Allie and Cam stepped from the pickup cautiously, guns at the ready, leaving the doors open behind them.
“I’ll go check for diesel,” Cam said, voice pitched low. “Are you good with staying here on lookout?”
Allie nodded. Cam’s absence would give her a chance to find unspoiled fuel, if there was any in this rinky-dink town. “Just be careful out there,” she said.
He gave her a tight but genuine smile. “I will. And remember, no guns unless absolutely necessary.” He looked around at the sleeping town, so quiet that Allie could feel it in her bones. “I’m hoping the truck wasn’t loud enough to bring everything out of the woodwork.”
When Cam was out of sight, Allie checked her perimeter one last time. She then found the nearest patch of grass, took off her shoes, and laid her rifle at her feet within easy reach.
With her bare feet on the warm earth, grass tickling between her toes, Allie stilled every part of her physical body, willing herself to anchor to the ground.
Morrigan, I need to find diesel fuel. Unspoiled diesel fuel.
Her perspective seemed to expand behind her eyelids, the darkness stretching through odd echoes of light.
After a moment—or maybe a few minutes?—of intense concentration, the vision bloomed to life.
The process contained little fanfare, no trace of energy or psionic light show leading her to the spot.
She simply knew where the fuel was and could see its location as if the information had dropped into her brain without having to pass through any of her five senses.
The fuel wasn’t where Cam was, at the newer gas station with gaudy green colors—she could see him there when she thought about him, the scene shifting for a moment before returning to the repair place across town, one with an old triangular overhang protruding from the front.
Joe’s Body Shop had two canisters of diesel fuel, ten gallons each, likely kept for working on farm vehicles, in a corner beside stacks of old tires.
The fuel would be enough to get them farther than they’d dared hope in the truck.
Now she had to get Cam over there.
She opened her eyes and put her shoes back on, scanning the area around her. Then she picked up her rifle and trotted toward where she’d seen him. She knew better than to shout.
But there was no sign of him at the gas station—until she saw something moving across one of the big windows inside.
Her heart seized then accelerated. She slung her rifle across one shoulder and drew her machete before running lightly toward the entrance then ducking low as she opened one of the double doors and slipped inside.
Snarls and moans assaulted her ears. Three zombies had Cam in a corner, where he’d backed into a magazine rack and fallen, legs tangled in the mess.
One zombie was wearing a hard hat. Shit.
Ignoring the cold fear creeping up her spine, she crept up from behind and shoved her machete blade sideways into Hard Hat’s neck then pulled it free.
With an odd, high-pitched sound, it crumpled, head hanging at a grotesque angle.
The two other zombies reached for Allie, one lurching in front of the other.
She shoved her blade up through its jaw but sagged when it pitched forward onto her.
She tugged downward to free her machete blade, but with the angle of the Z’s body, it was a struggle.
Cold fear rose up into the back of her throat when she felt the remaining zombie’s proximity. Don’t freeze. Don’t freeze...
She dimly registered movement to one side before Cam—now back on his feet—stabbed his hunting knife into the Z’s eye. It dropped without a sound.
They breathed in gulps. Allie let the Z in her arms drop and used her foot to steady its head as she pulled her weapon free. Then she looked at Cam, who was cleaning his blade. “You okay?” she asked, shaking with the effort of staying calm.
He nodded, taking a deep breath. “Jesus. Nobody marked the fucking door—you’re supposed to do that if there are Zs inside.
Does nobody read Robert’s Rules of Chaos around here?
” He sighed. “I tried to get around to face them and went down. I was about to fire my gun—to hell with the noise—but then you opened the door.” He smiled. “You’ve got excellent timing, angel.”
She smiled back as he took something out of his jacket pocket.
“And I found something for you that had fallen beneath the shelves.” His grin was a little bashful, and she looked from it to the crumpled burgundy bag of Let’s BBQ chips in his outstretched hand.
She burst out laughing, far too loudly for the current situation.
He stepped to her, chuckled, and shushed her with a kiss before theatrically presenting her with the chip bag. “For you, my lady.”
Blushing furiously, she took it. “Thank you, good sir.”
“You’re very welcome.” He sighed and looked around. “At least we got something out of this joint.”
She smiled. Just wait.
Turning, she surveyed the store, which had been picked clean of most of its foodstuffs. “Should we look around a little more?”
“There’s nothing in here, but we should check the pumps.”
But as Allie already knew, there was no power and no cans of fuel there.
“Shit,” Cam muttered.
“There are probably more places on the other side of town,” Allie offered, trying to sound casual. “Let’s go check it out.”
Sure enough, when they got to Joe’s Body Shop, the canisters were right where she’d known they would be. “Hey! Look at this!” she said, trying to sound surprised. It wasn’t difficult—she was nowhere near used to these powers.
Cam nodded, expression thoughtful. “What are the chances it isn’t spoiled, though?”
“Well, it’s worth a try.” She shrugged. “Worst-case scenario, we need to find some bikes earlier than we thought.”
He nodded, then they each grabbed a canister and headed back to the Ford. After using Allie’s fuel funnel to empty one canister of diesel into the truck’s tank, Cam snagged her hand and pulled her close for a kiss. “For luck,” he said. Then he got behind the wheel. “Here goes nothing.”
Allie wasn’t surprised when the truck started beautifully, but Cam certainly was.
He whooped a little, then the truck scared the absolute hell out of both of them when it sputtered and nearly died before the engine came back to life with a roar.
The radio dial lit up, with MMSR—now coming in perfectly—playing a Led Zeppelin tune.
Unfortunately, the extra noise made them popular again. A small group of zombies shuffled into view.
“They’re coming,” Allie said, and Cam motioned for her to get in.
Allie turned to the passenger door, but... wait. “Hold on,” Allie said, running back to the door of Joe’s.
Before they left the bunker, Allie had put a handful of dry red beans in her front pocket. She left three of those beans on the doorframe and bowed her head for a moment in silent gratitude. Thank you, Goddess. Please accept this humble offering.
“Allie!” Cam was shouting now. No more need for quiet.
She ran back to the truck, and the moment she slammed the door behind her, they peeled out of town.
Once they were a few minutes down the road, Cam gave her a look. “Um, what the hell? What was that?”
“An offering. To Morrigan.” Allie knew it sounded bizarre, but he had to understand—without the goddess, so much of this would not be possible. Allie knew that better than she knew her own name. “She’s helping us, so we have to show Her respect.”
His mouth dropped open then closed again. After a moment, he nodded. “We’ll build offering time into our stops, then, when we find what we need.”
She couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up along with sweet relief at being heard and understood. Would she ever get used to it? “I love how organized you are, making sure we budget time for the woo-woo stuff.”
Cam shook his head, mouth quirking up on one side. “You know, I was agnostic before all this started.”