“We need more people.” Sinner stated flatly. “There’s too many of them to go straight at with only us three.”
“Fucking Stinky.” Simon took another swig then screwed the lid back. “Traitor bailed on us.” He turned in the seat and pointed at Sinner. “It was probably him in the trees.”
Sinner just nodded.
“But we went at them with the Crazies boss. They were our army and those assholes still managed to survive.” Shooter slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “We need our own army.”
Simon nodded. “Too bad there aren’t any left.” He paused and turned in his seat. “Or is there?”
Sinner snorted. “Even if they were holed up somewhere, they wouldn’t join our cause.”
Simon smiled, his head shaking. “No…I don’t mean THE Army.” He turned back and began to look through the open window. “We need to find the last place they had a base set up.”
“What for, boss?” Shooter asked.
“We need weapons.” Simon nodded slowly. “We need BIG weapons.”
Trevor finished screwing the last of the bars into place and stood back to look at his handiwork. “It ain’t pretty by any far stretch of the imagination.” He smiled at Patricia and gave her a wink. “But I think it will keep out the Ragers.”
He grabbed one of the bars and tugged. The whole RV seemed to rock slightly. “Yeah, these aren’t going anywhere.”
He tossed the tools aside, his fear still causing him to check the corners of the shop for any stragglers that may have decided to stick around for a snack.
He swallowed hard then opened the driver’s door. “There’s a gas pump around the corner. Hopefully we can siphon enough from their tanks to fill this thing up. I don’t know how much a third of a tank is on this, but I’d rather fill it up now.”
He started the RV and pulled it slowly from the shop, made a wide right turn, and eased the machine to the small gas station across the street. He killed the engine and listened for any kind of movement outside. Even with the bars in place, he hated having his window down when he knew that they could still be out there.
He opened the door slowly and grabbed the gas can from between the seats. He found the tank covers imbedded in the concrete and lifted the brass plates. “Damn it.” He glanced back to Patricia. “They’re padlocked.”
He leaned back and stared at the cars lying dormant. “Maybe some of these have gas.”
He uncoiled the clear plastic tubing and slipped it down the filler neck of the first car. He blew into it; the tank sounded nearly empty.
The second car gave up eight gallons that he split between two trips with the gas can. The third car must have been full because he siphoned out five cans’ worth. The last three gallons wouldn’t fit in the tank so he strapped the can to the rear bumper.
When Trevor crawled back into the driver’s seat, Patricia wrinkled her nose at him. He grinned at her, lifting his brow. “Do I smell bad? I musta spilt some gas on me.”
He pulled the baby wipes from his bag and wiped down his face and arms. “Better? No?” With a heavy sigh he tugged his shirt off and sniffed it. “Yeah. That’s not good.”
He pulled on a cleaner t-shirt, then started the RV. “I’ll air out as we go.”
He pulled the vehicle to the intersection and peered down either direction. “You ready to do some grocery shopping?” He gave her a soft smile then paused. “I don’t guess you smell…them, do ya?”
She simply stared.
“Okay then. Let’s hurry and do this. The sooner we load up, the sooner we leave.” He turned right and gently accelerated, maneuvering the RV around dead cars and trash in the street. “Better future, here we come.”
Chapter 3
Roger led Hank and Wally through the front gates. “So Hatcher is still stressing that we should do more.” He pointed to the dozer sitting idle in the vacant lot. “Any chance one of you can figure that machine out?”
Hank nodded. “I’ve run tractors before. I’m sure it wouldn’t be much of a stretch.”
“What do you want done?” Wally asked, his curiosity piqued.
“You fellas think you could use that to drag some abandoned cars over and give us another line of defense?”
Hank nodded. “Sure, but we got a fence and a wall. Do you really think a line of cars will do much more?”
Roger shrugged. “If it slows somebody down enough for us to get the upper hand, I think it’s worth a shot, don’t you?”
Hank shook his head slowly. “They came at us with bulldozers; a line of cars won’t stop them.”
Wally stepped forward. “I think I see what he’s saying. It won’t stop them, but it could buy us a couple of minutes.”
Hank squinted in the midday sun. “I’d rather fight fire with fire.”
Roger gave him a curious look. “How’s that?”
“There’s a shop just a couple blocks from here. We take that big yellow monster over there and we reinforce it. Maybe put expanded metal mesh over the windows. It might not stop a bullet, but it will deflect most shots.”
Wally snapped his fingers. “Or plate steel. That will stop a bullet.”
Hank appeared surprised. “We’d need to see where we’re going.”
Wally nodded. “So we cut slots into it.” His eyes widened. “Or heavy duty louvers!”
Roger shrugged. “If you two think you can turn that thing into a defensive weapon, I’m all for it.”
Wally smiled and patted Hank’s shoulder. “We could mount guns on it.”
“Or a flamethrower.” Hank grinned broadly.
“Uh, guys? Let’s not get crazy here,” Roger said, stepping back. “Let’s stick with defensive for now, okay?”
Hank seemed to deflate. “I really like the idea of a flamethrower though.”
Wally shook his head. “We’d have to have a fuel tank for it. If it got shot…”
Hank’s eyes widened as the realization struck. “Yeah…okay. No flamethrower.”
Roger gave them a thumbs up. “Do your best, boys.”
Hank slung his rifle and trudged
