Loose Ends: A Zombie Novel by Jay Wilburn Read Free Book Online

to decide how much fuel, which vehicle, and how much of everything else we bring.”
    Short Order followed as Chef’s voice disappeared down the next turn.
    Short said, “We should lock down this place with whatever is left inside. Set it up so that we can come back.”
    I heard Chef very distantly, “I still want to go and set loose whatever animals are left once we leave. There’s no need to let them all die.”
    “The zombies will get them,” Doc mumbled and shook his head as he put out his hand and pulled me up to my feet.
    He started down the steps. “Funerals would be easier if at least one of us still believed in God. Nothing else would be, but funerals might.”
    I still believed in God. I didn’t let any of them know that. The other two would let it go, but Doc would give me an earful. He had gone off before on God and faith. He wasn’t the only one. A couple weeks before that funeral, the Complex had been full of people who blamed God and hated God for a lot of different things, but mostly for the zombies. I don’t see how people could hate God and blame him and then not believe in him. It seemed that not believing would make it easier to let go of the blame and hate, but it didn’t. Now they all knew for sure if God existed or not and one day sooner or later, we would too.
    Believing in God did not make this funeral easier nor any of the ones that followed.

     
     

 
    Chapter 3: The Day We Almost Had Two Buffets

     
    We didn’t leave the next morning or the morning after that.
    I half expected us to spend the rest of our lives pretending like we were going to go, but never actually packing the truck and driving away. I more than half wanted that to happen even if we did eat from cans for the rest of our days.
    We locked down the kitchen flipping chopping blocks, sealing off grills, scrubbing out traps, breaking down vents, and covering equipment with plastic. We cleared the pantry of perishables and began boxing up cans and dry goods in plastic tubs for our unlikely return.
    There was more debate over vehicles. They discussed taking one of the diesel engines instead of the converted, scout vehicle. There was an argument about the likelihood of finding stored diesel on farms. It turned into shouting and I started to think the argument had nothing to do with fuel. I can’t imagine any of them cared that much about the nature of diesel. In the end, they decided that no stored fuel of any kind would have lasted this long.
    There was even a suggestion about bicycles. I nearly had to lie down during that exchange, but they passed over that fairly quickly. Later, we were going to wish we had packed them.
    We did finally begin packing the convert late on the second day.
    It was the chaise of an old Wrangler, but nothing else in its guts was from the original truck. The outside was scarred, scratched, and dented down to multiple coats of primer. There was a double layer of crash bars welded across the front of the truck. The doors and roof were reinforced with roll bars. The cab was a set of jump seats that could lock or turn. The windows were replaced with wire grill welded to the doors and frame. Cheap plastic was wedged into the space behind each of the metal gratings. The engine was a hybrid design to choke down several fuel types and emergency substitutes. It would not take diesel. The cargo section had a metal drop hatch that could be opened or closed off from the crew section. The wheels and axils were built on to the vehicle from another truck design with which I wasn’t familiar or that I just don’t remember being told.
    We loaded in weapons, fuel canisters, canned foods, packs, cooking supplies, and other gear.
    That night we triple checked our barriers and all the doors and windows to our selected building three. I guess at that point it really became building one.
    The next morning, Chef told us to pack light on personal items and I did. I only brought a few changes of clothes and no books.