They sped to the main road, and then the redneck skidded to a stop around the corner. The route they wanted was crawling with zombies, and they all turned at the same time, mouths opening in excitement.
“Fuck,” the redneck declared. “Ideas?”
“How much gas we got?” Dante asked.
“Not enough to get to the next station,” Ace replied. “I need the one on the other side of that pack.”
“Well, let’s lead ‘em away, then,” Dante suggested. “Head the other way.”
Ace pulled a u-turn, and as they passed back through the intersection, they spotted Brandt firing into the horde, to no avail as it overwhelmed him.
“Good fucking riddance,” Ace muttered, and they sped down the street.
The side streets had packs of zombies down them, clustered enough that they wouldn’t be easy to navigate around. He kept going straight, but they were both worried about the gas running out before they could loop back around.
They stopped at another intersection with lights, and the left side was fairly clear. There were two ghouls aimlessly wandering in the distance, easily avoided when the time came. Ace idled for a moment, letting the pursuing zombies catch up a bit so they didn’t lose them. They’d need enough time to outrun them and then also fill the gas tank before tearing out of town.
When the front of the horde was about ten yards away, Ace hit the throttle and zoomed for about a quarter mile before the engine sputtered.
“Fuck!” he barked, and they began to slow down.
“Get off and push!” Dante cried, and hopped off of the vehicle. “We’re fucked if we leave it behind!”
“No shit!” Ace quipped, and they ran, both hands on the bike as they rolled it along with them.
“Take the next street, not the alley,” Dante suggested. “We don’t want to get caught in a bottleneck.”
The redneck nodded, and they ran at a good clip towards the next road. The zombies kept pace with them, thankfully not as fast as their early days sprinting. However, as they made the turn, the sound of rapid boot falls grew closer.
The duo looked over their shoulders, and Ace rolled his eyes.
“This fucker just won’t quit,” he muttered.
A zombified Sheriff Brandt, fresh off the zombie press, sprinted towards them, milky eyes and huge chunks of his flesh hanging from his body.
Dante raised the assault rifle as they ran, and when the zombie was a few feet away, he loosed a bullet into its forehead.
“Gone for good this time,” he declared.
Ace nodded, smirking. “Francis and Maddox’ll be happy with this story,” he said.
“Over the moon,” Dante agreed, and his legs began to protest as they ran. It had been an exhausting day, and at this point he was running on pure adrenaline. “So… how are we going to fill the gas tank?”
The redneck grimaced. “I was hoping you had some thoughts about that,” he huffed, “cause I got nothing.”
“Well…” Dante began and then sighed. “I’ve got this,” he said, holding up the assault rifle. “Makes a lot of noise.”
Ace raised an eyebrow. “You saying you draw them away while I fill the tank, and then I come and pick you up?” he asked.
“Or you could draw them away while I fill the tank,” Dante joked. “That would be cool too.”
The redneck chuckled through his heavy breaths. “I’m good, man, I’ll take one for the team and be the gas bitch.”
“Suit yourself,” Dante replied. He spotted the building up ahead where he’d climbed down on top of the sedan, and pointed to it. “I’ll get up on top of that building and draw the horde back down to the other end of the road from the roof. You gas up and then meet me back under that sign.”
“Gotcha,” Ace agreed, and they nodded to each other before Dante broke off and ran for the busted car.
He clambered up on top of the roof and crouched, leaping up as high as he could to grab the metal bars. He pulled himself up with a grunt, hooking a leg up on one of the bars to propel himself to the top. The ghouls were almost at his position, and he wanted to make sure he kept their attention so Ace could get away.
As soon as he clambered up onto the roof, he pulled the assault rifle from his pack and fired into the horde. A few zombies fell, and the rest poured towards him, smacking into the building, confused.
“Yeah, come party with me, you dead fucks!” he bellowed, and started walking along the roofs of the stores.
He hopped the first alleyway and then fired again, taking out a few more zombies and drawing the horde after him. He continued to hoot and holler and yell, loosing a few bullets every so often as he walked to the other end.
“Hurry back, Ace,” he murmured, hoping that the redneck wouldn’t run into any trouble at the gas station.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ace jogged up to the gas station, pocket knife in his fist, looking around everywhere in case of any friends trying to surprise him and eat his face. If he were being totally honest, he was more worried about stray mercenaries, even though after his mental count he was sure that they’d gotten them all.
He could still hear the crack of Dante’s gunfire in the distance, so he was sure that any zombies wandering around would be more apt to go in that direction.
He reached the first pump and hit the kickstand, unscrewing the cap for the tank as fast as he could. He grabbed the pump and stuck it in the tank, and pulled the handle.
Nothing.
“Fuck,” he muttered. Was the pump empty? He looked at the screen and saw an error message saying to go speak to an attendant. “An attendant that wants to chew on my brains, great.” He looked back and forth and then sprinted for the gas bar. The front door hung open, and he did a quick sweep of
