plastic bag blowing around the parking lot. Megan pulls up to the pump, but Ryan shakes his head.
“The electricity will be off. We’ll have to pump it directly out of the main tank underground.” Ryan is scanning the area. He points to a spot just a bit away from the pumps that’s covered by a man-hole looking cover.
Megan pulls up and puts the car in park. “I don’t understand how we’re going to get the gas out of the ground?” she shakes her head in confusion.
I have to admit that I don’t know either.
“I threw a hand pump in with my stuff back at that farm. We have to pry the lid up.”
Not for the first time, I feel like Ryan is a gift from God. If we hadn’t picked him up, we would never have known how to get gas without electricity. We would be walking right about now—the thought sends a shiver down my spine.
“Do you need any help?” I ask.
Ryan shakes his head. “It shouldn’t be too hard. Why don’t you girls go and look for some extra gas cans in the store. Be careful though, and take Megan with you,” he warns.
I want to argue that I don’t want to go without him, but I guess that would be too needy. We just met this guy, and I can’t rely on him to hold our hand every minute of the day. Megan’s a good shot, I remind myself, and this place is pretty isolated. There aren’t even any vehicles in the parking lot.
Megan is already checking her clip and reloading her gun. “It looks deserted,” she reiterates my own thoughts and I try and take comfort in that.
“Abby, will you stay and watch my back while I’m pulling this lid up?” Ryan asks.
Abby looks massively relieved that she doesn’t have to go inside the store.
We cautiously approach the gas station. It’s one of those convenience stores that have a mechanics garage attached to the side of it. We try the door and are surprised that it’s locked.
“This might be a good sign, maybe this place was closed when things started to go down,” I mutter as I wind my fire poker back and smash the glass. “If the store was closed when all this stuff happened, there is a good chance it’s empty of anything with a taste for flesh.”
Megan looks excited as well, though she brings her gun up and enters the store like she’s a TV cop clearing a room.
The interior looks normal, and the air smells like any other convenience store I’ve ever been in. Rows and rows of chips and candy bars stretch before us, and I have to fight down a surge of excitement.
“Please tell me that you’re thinking what I’m thinking?” I ask.
Megan stuffs her gun into the band of her pants and smiles. We fill bags and bags up with chips, candy bars, beef jerky, warm pop of every flavor, peanuts, and anything else that strikes our fancy. When we’re loaded down with at least ten bags each, we head back to the suburban with large red gas cans in each hand.
Ryan’s gotten the cover off the underground reservoir and has a long rubber garden hose dipped into the tank. The other end of the hose is in the gas tank, and he’s pumping away furiously on a hand pump. We put our haul inside the back of the car and leave the gas cans out for Ryan to fill before going back to see what else we can find.
The store is a gold mine. I open up a warm Pepsi and take a long swallow while I flip through the magazine rack. Megan is rummaging behind the counter, pulling out packs of cigarettes and stuffing them in to her pockets and bra.
I give her a scandalized look. “I didn’t know you smoked,” I say, and I know my tone is a little judgy, but I can’t help it. She flashes me a grin.
“I don’t, but these will be in short supply soon and we can use them as currency if we come across more people.”
It’s a great idea I have to admit, so I throw a few packs into each pocket of my jeans and a bunch inside the front pocket of my hoodie.
“That’s enough gals,” a voice drawls from behind us.
We turn to find the creepiest-looking man we have ever
“The electricity will be off. We’ll have to pump it directly out of the main tank underground.” Ryan is scanning the area. He points to a spot just a bit away from the pumps that’s covered by a man-hole looking cover.
Megan pulls up and puts the car in park. “I don’t understand how we’re going to get the gas out of the ground?” she shakes her head in confusion.
I have to admit that I don’t know either.
“I threw a hand pump in with my stuff back at that farm. We have to pry the lid up.”
Not for the first time, I feel like Ryan is a gift from God. If we hadn’t picked him up, we would never have known how to get gas without electricity. We would be walking right about now—the thought sends a shiver down my spine.
“Do you need any help?” I ask.
Ryan shakes his head. “It shouldn’t be too hard. Why don’t you girls go and look for some extra gas cans in the store. Be careful though, and take Megan with you,” he warns.
I want to argue that I don’t want to go without him, but I guess that would be too needy. We just met this guy, and I can’t rely on him to hold our hand every minute of the day. Megan’s a good shot, I remind myself, and this place is pretty isolated. There aren’t even any vehicles in the parking lot.
Megan is already checking her clip and reloading her gun. “It looks deserted,” she reiterates my own thoughts and I try and take comfort in that.
“Abby, will you stay and watch my back while I’m pulling this lid up?” Ryan asks.
Abby looks massively relieved that she doesn’t have to go inside the store.
We cautiously approach the gas station. It’s one of those convenience stores that have a mechanics garage attached to the side of it. We try the door and are surprised that it’s locked.
“This might be a good sign, maybe this place was closed when things started to go down,” I mutter as I wind my fire poker back and smash the glass. “If the store was closed when all this stuff happened, there is a good chance it’s empty of anything with a taste for flesh.”
Megan looks excited as well, though she brings her gun up and enters the store like she’s a TV cop clearing a room.
The interior looks normal, and the air smells like any other convenience store I’ve ever been in. Rows and rows of chips and candy bars stretch before us, and I have to fight down a surge of excitement.
“Please tell me that you’re thinking what I’m thinking?” I ask.
Megan stuffs her gun into the band of her pants and smiles. We fill bags and bags up with chips, candy bars, beef jerky, warm pop of every flavor, peanuts, and anything else that strikes our fancy. When we’re loaded down with at least ten bags each, we head back to the suburban with large red gas cans in each hand.
Ryan’s gotten the cover off the underground reservoir and has a long rubber garden hose dipped into the tank. The other end of the hose is in the gas tank, and he’s pumping away furiously on a hand pump. We put our haul inside the back of the car and leave the gas cans out for Ryan to fill before going back to see what else we can find.
The store is a gold mine. I open up a warm Pepsi and take a long swallow while I flip through the magazine rack. Megan is rummaging behind the counter, pulling out packs of cigarettes and stuffing them in to her pockets and bra.
I give her a scandalized look. “I didn’t know you smoked,” I say, and I know my tone is a little judgy, but I can’t help it. She flashes me a grin.
“I don’t, but these will be in short supply soon and we can use them as currency if we come across more people.”
It’s a great idea I have to admit, so I throw a few packs into each pocket of my jeans and a bunch inside the front pocket of my hoodie.
“That’s enough gals,” a voice drawls from behind us.
We turn to find the creepiest-looking man we have ever
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