H10N1 by M. R. Cornelius, Marsha Cornelius Read Free Book Online Page B

gas station. She thought about offering him a ride, but decided he was too freaked out to accept. After jockeying the car out of the queue, she turned around and headed to the station. But when she pulled into the parking lot, Rick was nowhere in sight. The van was still in the street, but she didn’t see Rick in the driver’s seat.
    After cautiously climbing out of her new car, she swept a full turn with her Beretta extended at arm’s length. The air pump was just beyond a row of cars queued in the parking lot. She was sawing through the air hose with her knife when she heard a crash inside the convenience store. Her heart lurched, and the skin on her scalp prickled. Dropping the knife, she yanked her gun out of her waistband and held it with both hands. She bolted back to the SUV, all the while aiming at the broken front door of the store.
    Was it Rick or a looter? Had he gone inside for some reason and been ambushed? She hadn’t heard a gunshot, but that didn’t mean anything. She dashed for a Tahoe closer to the building, hoping to get a look inside. Too dark. But she could still hear shuffling as though someone was sifting through debris.
    If she called out, and it wasn’t Rick, she would alert the intruder to her presence. She decided to duck down behind the Tahoe’s front fender and wait.
    Footsteps crunched on broken glass. Whoever it was, they were right at the door. She blew out quick bursts of air as she counted silently to three, then sprang up, steadied the Beretta on the Tahoe’s hood, and took aim.
    Rick stepped through the doorframe, each of his hands gripping two jugs of windshield washer fluid.
    Taeya let out a breath that actually croaked. He scowled when he saw her pointing the gun at him.
    “What the hell are you doing?” he asked.
    “What are you doing?” She nodded at the jugs.
    He unscrewed the cap on one of the jugs and began pouring the fluid on the ground. “You can suck on a hose if you want, but I never acquired a taste for gasoline.”
    Once the first jug was empty, he strode over to a car, and after taking a quick look around, he crawled under the chassis. She watched him pull a hammer from his belt, and pound a nail into the underside. When he wrenched the nail back out, she saw a trickle of fluid. He quickly stuck the jug under the leak. He’d poked a hole in the gas tank.
    As he crawled back out from under the car, he glanced up at her. “You don’t really expect me to do all this myself, do you?”
    Taeya snatched up the next jug and emptied out the windshield fluid, then dashed to the next car where Rick was waiting with hammer poised. Once a jug was full, she’d hand him an empty replacement, then scurried to the SUV and dumped the gas in. She was pouring in her fourth gallon when she heard a noise.
    From the high-rise apartment complex across the street, Taeya saw a woman emerge from one of the front entrances. Out on the sidewalk, the woman took furtive glances left and right before she dashed to the street on tiptoes. She didn’t stop until she had ducked between two abandoned cars near the gas station.
    “Help me,” the woman pleaded in a hoarse whisper. “Take me with you, please.”
    Taeya dragged the surgical mask that had been hanging at her chin back over her mouth and nose.
    “I can’t,” she said.
    “I’m not sick. I promise.” The desperate woman twisted to see if anyone had followed her. “I have lots of cash.”
    Digging into the pocket of her slacks, the woman produced a large roll of bills. “I’ve got over four thousand dollars. It’s yours if you get me out of here.”
    “I’m sorry,” Taeya said. “But you’ll have to find your own transportation.”
    “All the cars are locked. Or there’s dead people in them!”
    Taeya gave the woman a reassuring nod. “You can do it.”
    After checking her surroundings again, the woman crept into the parking lot. “I’ve got jewelry. And shoes. Over fifty pairs of size seven and a half. Jimmy